e is all the paper I have in my pockets," he added.

"I have some, too," muttered Dave.

"I'll be back as speedily as I can get help."

"You ought not to be gone more than an hour."

"Not as long as that, I hope. Goodbye, Dave, and look out for
yourself."

After going the first hundred yards Dick Prescott let himself
out into a loping run, very much like that used by the "soreheads"
in getting back to town. With a trained runner the cross-country
style of running is suited for getting over long distances at
fair speed.

Twenty minutes later young Prescott reached a farm house in which
there was a telephone. He asked permission to use the instrument.

"Go right in the parlor, and help yourself," replied the farmer's
wife.

As Dick rang on, and stood waiting, transmitter at his ear, he
first thought of calling for the police station.

"No, I won't, either," he muttered. "This belongs to my paper.
Let them tip off the police. Hello! Give me 'The Blade' office,
Gridley, please."

Dick waited patiently a few moments. Then:

"Hullo! 'The Blade?' This is Prescott. Is Mr. Pollock there?
He is? Good! Tell him I want to speak with him."

Then Mr. Pollock's voice sounded over the wire.

"Hullo, Prescott! Why aren't you on hand, with that big Dodge
story hanging over our heads? Why, it brought me down hours before
fore my time."

"Pollock, I've found Dodge," replied Dick Composedly. "At least,
Darrin and I-----"

"What's that!" broke in the editor's excited voice. "You've found
Dodge? Alive?"

As rapidly as he could young Prescott told the story. Mr. Pollock
listened gladly.

"Now, where are you, Prescott?"

Dick told Mr. Pollock the name of the farmer from whose home he
was telephoning.

"Just you wait there, Prescott. And, oh!---pshaw! I came near
forgetting to tell you the biggest news of all---for you. Mrs.
Dodge this morning offered a thousand dollars' reward for the
finding of her husband, dead or alive. You'll get that reward---you
and Darrin! But I've no more time to talk. Stay right where
you are until I reach you."

Nor was it long before Dick, pacing by the farmyard gate, saw
an automobile approaching at a lively clip. In it were the chauffeur
and Editor Pollock.

The latter waved his hand wildly when he caught sight If his High
School reporter.

Right begged this automobile sped another, in which sat Chief Coy,
Officer Hemingway and a uniformed policeman, in addi