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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Michael O'Halloran"


We'll see if we can't locate him by wire. It's an ugly situation. Of
course I didn't think it would come to this. Yes I wish you would! If you
say so, I will, but----All right then. Come at once! Good-bye!"
Douglas turned to his desk, wrote a few hasty lines and said to Mickey:
"Deliver that to Muller at the City Hall."
Mickey took the envelope and went racing. In half the time he would have
used in going to the City Hall he was in the _Herald_ Building, making
straight for the office of the editor. Mr. Chaffner was standing with a
group of men earnestly discussing some matter, when his eye was attracted
by Mickey, directly in range, and with the tip of his index finger he was
cutting in air letters plainly to be followed: "S.O.S." Chaffner nodded
slightly, and continued his talk. A second later he excused himself, and
Mickey followed to the private room.
"Well?" he shot at the boy.
"Our subm'rine has sunk our own cotton."
"Humph!" said Chaffner. "I've known for two weeks it was heading your way.


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