During the day, therefore, I
helped in directing the following up of the Haddon case for the
Star.
Then, suddenly, a new front page story crowded this one of the
main headlines. With a sigh of relief, I glanced at the new
thriller, found it had something to do with the Navy Department,
and that it came from as far away as Washington. There was no
reason now why others could not carry on the graft story, and I
left, not unwillingly. My special work just now was keeping on the
trail of Kennedy, and I was glad to go back to the apartment and
wait for him.
"I suppose you saw that despatch from Washington in this
afternoon's papers?" he queried, as he came in, tossing a late
edition of the Record down on my desk.
Across the front page extended a huge black scare-head: "NAVY'S
MOST VITAL SECRET STOLEN."
"Yes," I shrugged, "but you can't get me much excited by what the
rewrite men on the Record say."
"Why?" he asked, going directly into his own room.
"Well," I replied, glancing through the text of the story, "the
actual facts are practically the same as in the other papers.
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