Part 39 (1/2)

”Found it in the swamp not far from that abandoned car I told you about.”

”Then it must have been thrown away by the driver of the hit-skip car!”

”That's how I figure,” Clem Davis drawled. ”If you can learn the owner of this license plate, you'll know who killed that orphan's folks!”

CHAPTER 25 _SPECIAL EDITION_

Lights blazed on every floor of the _Riverview Star_ building, proclaiming to all who pa.s.sed that another special edition was in the process of birth. Pressmen industriously oiled the big rotaries ready for a big run of papers; linotype men, compositors, reporters, all were at their posts, having been hastily summoned from comfortable beds.

In the editor's office, Penny sat at a typewriter hammering out copy.

Jerking a long sheet of paper from beneath the roller, she offered it to her father.

”My contribution on the Hubell Clock angle,” she said with a flourish.

Mr. Parker rapidly scanned the story, making a number of corrections with a blue pencil.

”I should slug this 'editorial material,'” he remarked with a grin.

”Quite a plug you've put in for Seth McGuire--suggesting that he be given back his old job as caretaker of the Tower.”

”Well, don't you think it's a good idea?”

”The old man will get his job back--I'll see to that,” Mr. Parker promised. ”But the front page of the _Star_ is not the place to express wishful thinking. We'll reserve it for news if you don't mind.”

Crossing out several lines, Mr. Parker placed the copy in a pneumatic tube, and shot it directly to the composing room. He glanced at his watch, noting aloud that in exactly seven minutes the giant presses would start rolling.

”Everything certainly has turned out grand,” Penny sighed happily. ”Hank Holloway and Clyde Blake are sure to be given long prison sentences for their Black Hood activities. You've promised to see that Old Seth gets his job back, so that part will end beautifully. He'll adopt Adelle and I won't need to worry about her any more.”

”What makes you think Seth will adopt the orphan?” Mr. Parker asked curiously.

”Why, he's wanted to do it from the first. He hesitated because he had no steady work, and not enough money. By the way, Dad, how long will it take to learn the owner of that automobile license plate that Clem Davis gave us?”

”Jerry is trying to get the information now, Penny. All the registry offices are closed, but if he can pull some official out of bed, there's a chance he may obtain the data tonight. I'm not counting on it, however.”

The door of the office swung back and City Editor DeWitt hurried into the room.

”Everything set?” Mr. Parker inquired.

”We need a picture of Clyde Blake. There's nothing in the morgue.”

”Salt Sommers has one you might use!” Penny cried. ”It was taken when Blake came here the other day. He objected to it because it showed that one arm was shorter than the other.”

”Just what we need!” DeWitt approved. ”I'll rush it right out. Except for the picture, the front page is all made up.”

The door closed behind the city editor, but before Mr. Parker could settle comfortably into his chair, it burst open again. Jerry Livingston, breathless from running up several flights of stairs, faced his chief.

”I've got all the dope!” he announced.

”You learned who drove the hit-run car?” Penny demanded eagerly.