The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1904-05-11
Halt an hour and the mail edition

he have the story ready? A mystery
is the most interesting thing in the
career OF reporter, and Millard's sense
of news had found splendid chance
for a scoop. The first story was for
gotten and the room into which he had
failed to gain admittance was now his
only thought. What was in there?
He was still watching the door when
he suddenly saw it open from the in
side. He stood perfectly still, scarcely
daring to breathe. Suddenly he saw
the head of the clerk look out. His
face was worn and haggard. Closing
the door behind him, he stepped into
the hall. Willard saw the door tightly
shut, but rushed toward the clerk.
For Heavens sake, what has hap
pened to your" he cried.
The clerk only stared at him vacant
ly. Willard seized him by the shout
ders. What's in there?" he demand
ed, pointing toward the door,
Whats in there" repeated the
clerk, simply; I'll didn't see any
thing"
Wake up, man." cried the reporter;
what has happened to your
Hang you. anyhow" echoed the
white figure, ''how do know?"
Willard saw that his eyes had a hor-
rible, CLASSY stare He seemed entire
ly oblivious to what had happened.
Willard could get nothing from him.
The clerk looked at the reporter for
moment; then he pulled away from
him and went down stairs. Willard
watched him in pity and wonder. The
clock was now quarter of two
Like flash Willard saw the man
aging editor across the bay call down
the tube to the press rooms. The pic
ture came to him like dream He had
Is minutes left in which to solve a
mystery and get the story to the
Tribune Office.
In great moments there comes to
some persons the feeling that they are
able to accomplish anything. In such
way Willard felt that if he could
only get into that strange room he
could face anything. He had crav-
ing to get at the heart of the mys-
terry, and get the story off over the
wires. In IL minutes he would be
too late
Why not raise the house? Perhaps
the young women had been murdered!
He started toward the strange roon
Then his excited brain thought of the
fire alarm. With a feverish impulse
he seized the bell rope and pulled it
fl1rlnnc1v of
clear overhead, and at the same time
he saw 100 doors fly open and heard
the cries of female voices But he
only looked wildly at the strange door,
1t opened slowly! Dropping the rope
he plunged blindly forward into the
room and slammed the door after him.
For an instant he paused-dazed.
Before him stood the circus performer
with glittering knife uplifted. Be-
hind him he caught sight of the two
nurses in heap on the floor, One
looked vacantly at him. In the hall
behind, Willard heard the mad rush Of
many feet.
The juggler was dressed in his
tights, and his spangles were dazzling
under the electric lights. His head
was bandaged, but his eyes were ma
lignant. Suddenly there began to
creep over the reporter a sensation so
soothing that its power almost over
came him. The air was charged with
delicious odors, and vivid scene fit
ted across the reporters brain. He
saw the night editor smile at him and
whisper something that he could not
understand. He heard the wires sing
ing overhead in a melodious cadence
Far away he heard the roar of the
great presses that came drifting to his
ears like the wild hum of multitude
OF voices. But more vividly than the
rest he saw the managing editor again
send a message down that black tube.
Was he too late? The thought was
preying on his mind and was the para
mount question. Was he too late?
With an effort he reused himself.
Before his blurred vision he caught
sight of the murderer again. He was
standing over the reporter with his
hands near his face. Then there came
to Millard's ears the shouts and cries
OF masculine voices behind him. He
sprans to his feet, and the old feeling
came back to him.
Make way there" he cried, Selling
chair and plunging forward. THE
door behind him creaked and cracked.
He knew they were after him. make
way, you beast" He struck the per-
former with all his strength on the
head. Again he saw the unconscious
young women and he understood. He
reached the window and threw up the
sash. Behind him the door gave way
and he heard their footsteps coming
nearer. His hands touched the fire
escape and he swung himself out.
Swiftly he descended the long iron lad
der, dropped 20 feet to the ground and
leapt stone wall that doomed dark
ly before him. Then all he saw was
the one bright light in the telegraph
Office away down the long, cold road.
Across the bay in the Tribune Office
the managing editor was looking at the