“It was funny. McCluskey and Roberts chasing ghosts with myself and four revenue officers as the audience. I nearly laughed when McCluskey told me the story this morning. They didn’t come within fifteen yards of the edge of the cliff, either, although they said they did. “The weather man told me to-day the storm would blow over by evening and I figured the _Hongkong_ would be making port and the ring would attempt to land their stuff; every liner has been bringing it in. I came out last night on the chance she might try to make port. “No one suspected Enright.” It was a quarter to one o’clock when the train pulled into the depot. Marshall turned the body over to Phillips and Castle with a terse resume of the facts and then took his men and his bundles of opium and disappeared. They laid Enright out on a bench to await the coroner’s deputies. Phillips came over to us. “I guess I acted kind of stiff,” he said, in awkward apology. “But I want to hand it to you. You scored on us strong.” Lanagan put out his hand. The detective took it. “You’ll never make any mistake treating newspaper men right, Phillips. Just do this much for us now, will you? Hold off thirty minutes before you telephone the morgue. That will keep the story exclusively for the _Enquirer_.” “I’ll do it,” said Phillips. And he did; which may seem to the layman a little thing, but to the newspaper man a detail of vast importance; because it enabled Lanagan, sending the story to the office by telephone, to score once again in sensational manner over his contemporaries, the _Times_ and the _Herald_. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: Text in italics is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. Archaic spelling that may have been in use at the time of publication has been retained. Incorrect page reference in the Table of Contents has been corrected. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lanagan, by Edward H. Hurlbut