Tim's fingers still raced as the words of the story flowed out. The deadline was past, yet they were holding the presses just for his story. Everything else was ready. The last of Ralph's copy was coming off the linotypes out in the composing room. Make-up men, stereotypers and pressmen were all waiting for the final period on his story. Scores of newsboys were impatiently banging their heels down in the big circulation room listening for the roar of the presses which would signal that the noon edition was ready. Perspiration stood out in beads on Tim's forehead. There was so much to write and yet so little time in which to do it. He tore off each paragraph now, speeding it to the waiting linotypes. Dan Watkins bent over him again. "Only a minute left," he said softly. Tim nodded. He could write another column. That would have to come later when he polished up the story for the city edition. In a last, breathless paragraph he finished his story. The copyreader almost tore it from his hands and ran toward the composing room. The story was done. It was eleven forty on the tick. Tim relaxed in his chair. Ed Campbell stepped over. "Great piece of writing," said the city editor. "When do you leave?" "This afternoon on the plane east," replied Tim. "We'll miss you a lot," went on Campbell, "but I know you'll be sending us some swell yarns." "I'll do my best," promised Tim. CHAPTER THIRTEEN Eastward Bound After a hasty lunch Tim and Ralph returned to the _News_ office to complete the polishing up of the stories which had appeared in the noon edition. They expanded on the details of their adventures in the valley of the Cedar and by two o'clock Tim was through. George Carson came out of his office. "Have any idea how long this Caribbean trip is going to take?" asked the managing editor. "At least two months; perhaps longer," replied Tim. "I expected as much. You'll be on full time pay while you're away and I've made arrangements for the New York Journal's radio station to keep in contact with your submarine and relay your stories on to us. The Journal, in return, has the exclusive right in New York to print any of your stuff it desires." "That's certainly fair enough and it insures speedy transmission for my yarns," nodded Tim. "I've told the cashier to provide you with an extra $500 to use in case of an emergency and he's preparing a letter of credit should it be needed. That ought to cover any financial difficulties. Take care of yourself and good luck." The managing editor shook Tim's hand and then turned back to his own office. Other members of the staff stopped to say goodbye and to envy him the adventurous trip. Ralph was the last. His eyes were misty as he grasped Tim's hands. "I wish I could go along with the Jup. You may need a little rescuing before this trip is over."