If I did publish it, it was odds on that I never saw Juanita again. One thing occurred to me with relief--it wasn't a case in which I _had_ to publish, in the public interest. By suppressing news I was not failing my duty as an editor, only losing a big scoop, though that was hard enough. What was to be done? As I asked myself that question I confess that for a brief moment--thank Heaven it did not last long--it occurred to me that I was now in a position to put considerable pressure upon the millionaire. I could hold out inducements.... Fortunately, I crushed all such ugly thoughts without much effort, and then the real solution came. When I had questioned Rolston a little more and was bedrock certain that he was right, I would see Morse at once and tell him all I had learnt without reserve. I would present the thing to him as one in which I claimed no personal interest, and my attitude would be that I felt he ought to be warned. I would engage to publish nothing without his wish, but he must look to it--if he wished to preserve his secret--that other people were not upon the same track. That could do me no harm whatever. It was the straight thing to do, and at the same time it would certainly help me with him. I thought, and think still, that this was a fair advantage to take. It is only a fool who throws away a legitimate weapon in love or war. I rang up the Ritz Hotel and asked for Mr. Morse. There was some little delay at the Hotel Bureau, and then I was switched on to the telephone of the private apartments. "Who's that?" asked a cold, characterless voice. "Sir Thomas Kirby of the _Evening Special_ speaking. Who are you?" "Secretary to Mr. Morse"--now the voice was a little warmer. "Is Mr. Morse at home?" "I can see that he gets a message very shortly, Sir Thomas, if the matter is of importance." "It is of very considerable importance or I shouldn't have troubled to ring Mr. Morse up, especially as I shall be meeting him in a day or two at a social engagement." "Wait a moment, please." I knew by this that I had struck lucky and that Morse was in the hotel, and within a minute I heard his calm, resonant voice in my ear. "Good afternoon, Kirby. My secretary says you wanted to speak to me." "Thank you, I am most anxious to have a conversation." "Well, shall we hold the wire?" "I daren't discuss my business over the wire, Mr. Morse." There was a short silence and then: "Please forgive me, but you know how busy I am. Could you give me the least indication of what you wish to talk to me about?" I had an inspiration. "Towers," I said in a low voice. A quiet "Ah!" came to me over the wire, and then: "I think I understand, Sir Thomas, you wish--?" "To tell you something that I feel sure you ought to know, in your own interests." "Pass, _Friend_!" was the reply, followed by a little chuckle in which I thought--I might have been mistaken--I detected a note of relief. "When shall we meet?" I asked.