Rolston's revelation, utterly unexpected, came to me with the suddenness
of a blow over the heart. For a few seconds I was incapable of
consecutive thought, though I don't think my face showed anything of it.
The lad was watching me anxiously and I had to do something with him at
once. Fortunately, I thought of the obvious thing.
"Leave me now, Mr. Rolston," I said. "Go to the room down the passage
marked 'Mr. Williams' on the door, and ask him to put you into a room by
yourself. Then please, as quickly as possible, write me out a newspaper
'story' setting out fully all the facts you have told me. Remember that
you've got to interest the public in the very first paragraph in what is
undoubtedly a most sensational piece of news."
"How many words, sir?" he asked me--I liked that, it was professional.
"A thousand. And when you've done that bring it straight in to me."
He was out of the room in a minute and I sat down to think.
In the first place I didn't doubt his story for a moment, there was
something transparently honest about the boy, and, unless I was very
much mistaken, there was great ability in him also. When there was time
for it I expected I should hear a breathless story of his adventures in
the search of this stuff. He had hinted that his life had been in
danger.... I began to think--hard. Assuming that was true, that Morse
had been seized with this extraordinary whim, how did I stand in the
matter? At a first view it appeared that I was rather badly snookered.
Morse, always assuming young Rolston was correct, had spent a huge
fortune in keeping his secret. Moreover, the Government was in it with
him. It would hardly be the way to recommend myself to Juanita's
father--whose good opinion I desired to gain more than that of any other
person in the world, save one--by giving his cherished secret to the
world in order to increase the prestige and circulation of the _Evening
Special_.
If I did publish it, it was odds on that I never saw Juanita again. One
thing occurred to me with relief--it wasn't a case in which I _had_ to
publish, in the public interest. By suppressing news I was not failing
my duty as an editor, only losing a big scoop, though that was hard
enough. What was to be done? As I asked myself that question I confess
that for a brief moment--thank Heaven it did not last long--it occurred
to me that I was now in a position to put considerable pressure upon the
millionaire. I could hold out inducements....
Fortunately, I crushed all such ugly thoughts without much effort, and
then the real solution came. When I had questioned Rolston a little more
and was bedrock certain that he was right, I would see Morse at once and
tell him all I had learnt without reserve. I would present the thing to
him as one in which I claimed no personal interest, and my attitude
would be that I felt he ought to be warned. I would engage to publish
nothing without his wish, but he must look to it--if he wished to
preserve his secret--that other people were not upon the same track.
That could do me no harm whatever. It was the straight thing to do, and
at the same time it would certainly help me with him. I thought, and
think still, that this was a fair advantage to take. It is only a fool
who throws away a legitimate weapon in love or war.
I rang up the Ritz Hotel and asked for Mr. Morse. There was some little
delay at the Hotel Bureau, and then I was switched on to the telephone
of the private apartments.
"Who's that?" asked a cold, characterless voice.
"Sir Thomas Kirby of the _Evening Special_ speaking. Who are you?"
"Secretary to Mr. Morse"--now the voice was a little warmer.
"Is Mr. Morse at home?"
"I can see that he gets a message very shortly, Sir Thomas, if the
matter is of importance."
"It is of very considerable importance or I shouldn't have troubled to
ring Mr. Morse up, especially as I shall be meeting him in a day or two
at a social engagement."
"Wait a moment, please."
I knew by this that I had struck lucky and that Morse was in the hotel,
and within a minute I heard his calm, resonant voice in my ear.
"Good afternoon, Kirby. My secretary says you wanted to speak to me."
"Thank you, I am most anxious to have a conversation."
"Well, shall we hold the wire?"
"I daren't discuss my business over the wire, Mr. Morse."
There was a short silence and then:
"Please forgive me, but you know how busy I am. Could you give me the
least indication of what you wish to talk to me about?"