“Back to the room for you, chief,” snapped Lanagan laconically. “Throw Thorne in at 2:15. Charles Thorne, a former chauffeur, murdered Swanson after attempted blackmail failed. You stand, of course, chief?” “Stand, Jack?” replied that sterling officer, “it’s in so deep it can only come out when the last drop leaves my veins.” “I knew that,” said Lanagan. “Now, Norrie,” sharply, “get together! We have exactly _fifty-five minutes to press time_!” IX THE DOMINANT STRAIN IX THE DOMINANT STRAIN “Sampson,” said Lanagan, “there’s something queer about that Robbins case. Professional second story men aren’t returning to the scene of a $10,000 burglary and sending by messenger a written proposition to return the property for a cash settlement. They know how and where to negotiate the stuff and they take no chances; particularly not with one of their number under arrest--assuming the Ward boy is one of them. And that is another queer angle: seasoned crooks don’t operate with sixteen-year-old boys.” “How do you account for the ring found on him?” “I don’t--yet.” “What’s your theory?” “Haven’t any. But ten ‘second-story’ cases in three months in one district winding up with a $10,000 job is against all form.” “Dig into it then. Here, see who this is as you go out. May be about the suspect. Same name.” He handed Lanagan a visitor’s card. Scrawled across it in a nervous hand was: “Jennie Ward. Important.” In the ante-room a girl with a crutch arose to meet him, but he motioned her back to her seat. She had the pinched face and the wistful sadness of those condemned to life but half-whole. It was evident before she spoke a dozen words that she came as so many others come to the newspaper ante-room: in futile, uncomprehending protest at the entire system of News. It was her brother, Jimmy, who was under arrest, and she said he was innocent. Jimmy told her he found the ring, therefore he did find it, because Jimmy never told her a lie. She did not see why papers should print such things, even if he had been arrested, and why they did not try to prove a boy innocent rather than aid the police in trying to prove him guilty. Lanagan listened patiently at first, with an occasional question; and then he listened with a deepening interest as the girl’s fervour grew. “It is only the rich whose wrongs you right!” she exclaimed at last passionately. “What rights have we poor? I cannot afford even a lawyer. Mamma does washing. She is old and timid, and she was afraid to come to the papers. I mostly educated myself, sir; I had to. I have learned the piano at the Sunday school. I have a little class of pupils there. The teacher helps me get them. I just teach the first lessons, you know. I make $4.25 a week. Mamma makes about $7 when she is not sick. Jimmy has been making $8, with a raise to $9.50 coming the first. So you see we manage to make out, all of us together, and send my three little brothers to school.