The Camera Chap bowed. “A very sensible arrangement,” he said, “and one that is eminently satisfactory to me.” The girl laughed, and her color deepened. “I think we’d better be getting back,” she suggested. “The parade must be over, for people are beginning to come into the park.” As they stepped outside the Botanical Gardens they encountered Gale. That young man frowned at the sight of them. “Why, here you are!” he exclaimed reproachfully. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought you promised to wait for me outside the Hotel Nacional.” “We got tired of watching the parade, so we thought we’d walk around a bit,” Hawley replied. “Did you get the information you wanted about the attempted assassination of Portiforo?” he inquired quizzically. Gale nodded. “I found out the fellow’s name and business,” he replied. “That’s all I needed. It’s a peach of a story. I’m going to put it on the wire in a little while. Would you like to send it to your paper, too, old man?” Hawley smiled. He knew from past experiences that when Gale offered to share a story with a rival newspaper, it was never out of motives of altruism, but because the story was so much the product of his imagination that it gave him a greater sense of security to have his statements backed up by another sheet. “No, thanks,” he said dryly. “I guess I won’t touch it. I’m a snapshotter, and sending stories is somewhat out of my line. Besides, I’m on my vacation, so why should I work?” Gale looked at him searchingly. “Of course, you wouldn’t think of working on your vacation, would you?” he rejoined, with an ironical smile. When, a few minutes later, the Camera Chap took his leave, the _News_ man turned eagerly to Virginia. “Did he happen to drop you any hint of what he’s doing in Baracoa, Miss Throgmorton?” he inquired. The girl’s blue eyes opened wide in childlike wonder. “A hint?” she said innocently. “Why didn’t he tell us outright that he’s spending his vacation here?” Gale smiled sapiently. “Vacation or no vacation, that fellow didn’t come here to study the scenery!” he declared. “He is here for a purpose, and before I’m many days older I’m going to find out what it is.” CHAPTER XIII. TRUTH WILL OUT. It was not often that the Washington correspondent of the New York _Daily News_ visited the home office of that newspaper, particularly when Congress was in session. Therefore Ben Stephens, the managing editor, looked up from his desk in astonishment one afternoon when that young man stepped into his office. “I’ve got a line on something so important,” the latter explained, “that I was afraid to trust it to the wires. I might have sent it in by mail, of course, but I thought it would be more satisfactory to run into town and talk it over with you. I think you’ll agree that it’s one of the hottest tips that ever came out of Washington.” “A scandal?” eagerly exclaimed Stephens. “Haven’t caught a United States senator with the goods, have you?”