"This is Stubbs. Did you call me a moment ago?" "Yes." "Then it is a fact that the armistice has been signed." "It is. I had my information not more than fifteen minutes ago." "I just wanted to make sure it was really you who called," Stubbs explained hurriedly. "Good-bye." He slapped the receiver back on the hook and literally flew into his clothes. "No time for an elevator now," he muttered as he dashed out the door, through the hall and down the steps. In the lobby downstairs half a dozen war correspondents had gathered in a little knot. They came to their feet as Stubbs dashed down the steps. "What’s the matter, Stubbs?" one called. But Stubbs did not stop to reply. Out the door he dashed, his coat trailing behind him. It was perhaps half a dozen blocks to the cable office. Stubbs covered the distance in jig time, formulating his message in his mind as he went. "No time for details now," he muttered. "Just the flash. I’ll get the details later." Into the cable office he dashed. Behind him the little knot of correspondents became alarmed. "The little man knows something," said one of them. "Don’t suppose the armistice could have been signed, do you?" "Not a chance," said another. "We’d have the word." "Well, Stubbs was in a terrible hurry about something," said a third. "We’d better get busy and find out what it’s all about." They sprang to action. "I’ll go after him," said Jennings of The World. "The rest of you fellows get busy on the ’phone. Call every man in authority in the city. Some of them will know something. Doesn’t matter whether they kick about being called at this hour or not. Get busy." He dashed out the door after Stubbs. In the cable office Stubbs grabbed a blank and wrote, in code: "Armistice signed this a.m. at eleven o’clock at Hirson. Stubbs." The message he handed to the clerk with instructions to rush it. "That’ll be enough," said Stubbs. "They’ll know at the office what to do with it. They’ll probably write columns at that end describing the scenes at Hirson between Marshal Foch and the German delegates. There’ll be pictures and everything. Now I’ll go and learn a few of the details." He encountered Jennings of The World as he moved toward the door. "Look here, Stubbs," said Jennings, "why all this rush. You’re not going to leave the rest of us out in the cold, are you?" Stubbs smiled. "I’m not working for you fellows," he replied. "The New York Gazette is paying me my weekly stipend, but I don’t mind saying I’ve landed a big piece of news." Jennings attempted to minimize the matter. "Oh, I guess it’s not so terribly big," he said. Again Stubbs smiled. "Guess again," he said. "But I say, Stubbs, give me a hint." "Not a hint," declared Stubbs. "Well, all right," said Jennings, "but you’ll be sorry." "Not half as sorry as the rest of you’ll be when you hear from home after The Gazette is on the street," declared Stubbs.