“Did he give you orders not to say a word?” one of the men was saying.
“He did that!” replied the other. “Shure it’s tryin’ hard they are to keep the thing out of the papers. They’re afraid it’ll put the place on the blink, and faith, I think they’re right. It’s mesel’ that won’t be breathin’ a word of it to a livin’ soul from now to the risin’ of the judgment dawn.”
The Signor tip-toed noiselessly around a corner and disappeared in the direction of his concession. Three minutes later he was talking to the World on his private telephone and trying to make a tired operator understand what he was saying.
“I havea de news,” he shouted, “de beega news—de damned beega news—de beega, besta news you ever hear—Who? Wella givea me data man McCart’—Hello, eesa dat McCart’?... Say, McCart’, deesa eesa Signor Antonio Amado who maka de lions jumpa—eh?—I say I maka de lions jumpa at Jollyland,—well, meester, deres one beega time down at Jollyland tonighta—one beega time—dey eesa try to keepa it outa de papers—but I tella you—deesa wilda men from de South Seas dey raisa hella—dey hava beega fight—dey—what you say? Seet on a tack?—I no seet on a tack—hello—hello.”
But only echo answered. McCarthy had hung up. The Signor swore a large, round, succulent oath and went to bed.
Jimmy was at his office at the customary hour the next morning. He hadn’t slept all night and he was dog-tired, but his soul was filled with satisfaction. His ruse had worked. Not a single paper had carried a line about the fracas. He had taxied over to Manhattan and had kept vigil along Park Row until the final editions appeared. Then he had chartered a touring car and had taken a long ride along the Long Island roads until it was time for him to report for duty. He found McClintock on the job already. The manager was in a jubilant mood.
“Well,” remarked the latter cordially, “you stood the test, all right. I’ve got to give you credit. I didn’t think you’d get away with it, to tell you the gospel truth. Pretty decent bunch after all, I guess. Did any of ’em put up much of an argument?”
“Why the city editors, of course. You saw ’em all personally, didn’t you?”
Jimmy smiled a little guiltily, coughed nervously and then laughed quietly.