columns devoted in the _Bulletin_ to a further attack on Stone, a
lurid account of the big murder; and the _Bulletin_ had not a line of
it! A sharp call from Brown to Thomas, at central police, apprised the
latter that he had been "scooped," and brought out the facts in the
case. Thomas hurried down-stairs and bitterly upbraided Lieutenant
Casper.

"Look here, you Thomas," snapped Casper; "you _Bulletin_ guys have
been too fresh around here for a long time."

In Casper's eyes--Casper with whom he had always been on cordial
joking terms--he saw cruel implacability, and, furious, he knew
himself to be "in" for that most wearing of all newspaper jobs--"doing
police" for a paper that was "in bad" with the administration. He
needed no one to tell him the cause. At three-thirty, Thomas, and
Camden, who was doing the city hall, and Greenleaf Whittier Squiggs,
who was subbing for the day on the courts, appeared before Jim Brown
in an agonized body. Thomas had been scooped on the big murder, Camden
and G. W. Squiggs had been scooped, at the city hall and the county
building, on the only items worth while, and they were all at white
heat; though it was a great consolation to Squiggs, after all, to find
himself in such distinguished company.

Brown heard them in silence, and with great solemnity conducted them
across the hall to Jolter, who also heard them in silence and
conducted them into the adjoining room to Bobby. Here Jolter stood
back and eyed young Mr. Burnit with great interest as his two
experienced veterans and his ambitious youngster poured forth their
several tales of woe. Bobby, as it became him to be, was much
disturbed.

"How's the circulation of the _Bulletin_?" he asked of Jolter.

"Five times what it ever was in its history," responded Jolter.

"Do you suppose we can hold it?"

"Possibly."

"How much does a scoop amount to?"

"Well," confessed Jolter, with his eyes twinkling, "I hate to tell you
before the boys, but my own opinion is that we know it and the
_Chronicle_ knows it and Stone knows it, but day after to-morrow the
public couldn't tell you on its sacred oath whether it read the first
account of the murder in the _Bulletin_ or in the _Chronicle_."

Bobby heaved a sigh of relief.

"I always had the impression that a 'beat' meant the death, cortege
and cremation of the newspaper that fell behind in the race," he
smiled. "Boys, I'm afraid you'll have to stand it for a while. Do the
best you