they
have been and where Mr. Potter went. Hurry now!"

As Mack was going out the telephone rang. It was a message from Mr.
Newton to the effect that he could not find Mr. Potter, and that at
his office it was said he was still in Europe.

"Hurry to his house," said Mr. Emberg over the wire. "I have a tip
that his family just got in on the _Messina_ of the Blue Star line.
I've sent Mack to the dock! You go to the house!"

Thus, like a general directing his forces, did the city editor send
his men out after news.

CHAPTER X

THREATS AGAINST LARRY

Second edition-time was close at hand, but no news regarding Mr.
Hamden Potter had come in from either Newton or Mack. From a
reporter sent to interview representatives of the company
constructing the subway came a message to the effect that none of
the officers would talk for publication.

"What in the world is the matter with Harvey and Mack?" asked Mr.
Emberg, restlessly pacing the floor. Every one in the city room felt
the strain. Every time the telephone bell rang, the city editor
jumped to answer it, without waiting for one of the boys or a
reporter to get to the instrument.

Finally, after several false alarms, the bell rang and the city
editor, grabbing up the portable telephone, cried out:

"Yes? Oh, it's you, Newton. Where in the world have you been? We
only have time for the last edition. Talk fast! What's that? The
Potter family home, and you can't see Mr. Potter? Why not? Tell them
you've got to see him. Send in a message you have something of
importance to tell him. You say you have? And you can't see him?
But you must! Go back and try again. This is the biggest story we've
had in a long while and we can't fall down on it this way!"

He hung up the receiver on the hook with a bang, and once more began
pacing the floor.

"That's queer," he murmured. "There's something strange back of all
this. Potter is up to some game, and so is Sullivan. Come here,
Larry."

Mr. Emberg closely questioned the young reporter as to every detail
of his interview with Sullivan.

"I'm going to write something myself," the city editor announced.
"We've got to have more of this story. I can guess at part of it,
and I'll make it general enough, and with sufficient 'understoods'
in it to save us in case I'm wrong."

He began to write, nervously and hurriedly, handing the sheets over
to his assistant to edit as fast as he was done with them. They were
rushed upst