"Ask your father if you can take up a late night job for me. Then come on the jump. My men are all out, and everything is at odds and ends in the way of news. I can't get a single man, and I wish I had three at this minute." "Dave Darrin is here. Can I bring him along?" "Yes; he's not a reporter---but he may be able to help. Hustle." "I'll be walking in through the doorway," laughed Dick, "by the time you've hung your transmitter up. Good-bye." Ting-a-ling-ling! "Now, Dave, get your father on the jump, and ask his leave to go out on a late night story with me." Fortunately there was no delay about this. Dave received the permission from home promptly enough. The two youngsters set out on a run. What healthy boy of sixteen doesn't love to prowl late a night? It is twenty-fold more fascinating when there's a mystery on tap, and a newspaper behind all the curiosity. The longing of these sturdy chums for mystery and adventure was swiftly to be gratified---perhaps more so than they could have wished! News Editor Bradley was waiting for them in the doorway of "The Blade" office, a frown on the journalistic face. CHAPTER II THE START OF THE DODGE MYSTERY "This is the way it always goes," jerked out Bradley, as the two High School boys hurried into the office after him. "One of my men is sick, and the other two are somewhere---where, I can't find out." "All" his men sounded large enough; as a matter of fact, the only reporters "The Blade" employed were three young men on salary, and Dick Prescott, mainly as gleaner of school news. Dick didn't receive any salary, but was paid a dollar a column. "What's happening, anyway?" Dick asked coolly. "You know Theodore Dodge?" demanded Mr. Bradley. "I know him when I see him; he never talks with me," Prescott replied. "Theodore Dodge is the father of a fellow in our senior class at High School," Dave put in, adding under his breath, "and the son is one of our football 'soreheads.'" "Dodge has vanished," continued Bradley. "He went out early this morning, and hasn't been seen since. Tonight, just after dark, a man walking by the river, up above the bend, picked up a coat and hat on the bank. Letters in the pocket showed the coat to be Mr. Dodge's. The finder of the coat hurried to the Dodge house, and Mrs. Dodge hurriedly notified the police, asking Chief Coy to keep the whole matter quiet. Jerry (Chief Coy) doesn't know that we have a blessed word about this. But Jerry, his plain clothes man, Hemingway, and two other officers are out on the case. They have been on the job for nearly three hours. So far they haven't learned a word. They can't drag the river until daylight comes. Now, Prescott, what occurs to you as the thing to do?" "I guess the only thing," replied Dick quietly, "is to find Theodore Dodge." Mr. Bradley gasped. "Well, yes; you have the right idea, young man. But can you find Dodge, Dick?" "When do you go to press?"