The Adventures of Jimmie Dale [16]
more till it's over." He smiled significantly. "Well, that's about all. You've got the details right around you. I left Moriarty downstairs and came up here, and found just what you see--Metzer laying on the bed there, and the gray seal stuck on his forehead-- and"--he ended abruptly--"I'll have the Gray Seal himself behind the bars by morning." A chorus of ejaculations rose from the reporters, while their pencils worked furiously. Then Jimmie Dale appeared to have an inspiration. Jimmie Dale turned a leaf in his notebook and began to sketch rapidly, cocking his head now on one side now on the other. With a few deft strokes he had outlined the figure of Inspector Clayton. The reporter beside Jimmie Dale leaned over to inspect the work, and another did likewise. Jimmie Dale drew in Clayton's face most excellently, if somewhat flatteringly; and then, with a little flourish of pride, wrote under the drawing: "The Man Who Captured the Gray Seal." "That's a cracking good sketch!" pronounced the reporter at his side. "Let the inspector see it." "What is it?" demanded Clayton, scowling. Jimmie Dale handed him the notebook modestly. Inspector Clayton took it, looked at it, looked at Jimmie Dale; then his scowl relaxed into a self-sufficient and pleased smile, and he grunted approvingly. "That's the stuff to put over," he said. "Mabbe you're not much of a reporter, but you can draw. Y're all right, sport--y're all right. Forget what I said to you a while ago." Jimmie Dale smiled too--deprecatingly. And put the notebook in his pocket. An officer entered the room hurriedly, and, drawing Clayton aside, spoke in an undertone. A triumphant and malicious grin settled on Clayton's features, and he started with a rush for the door. "Come around to headquarters in two hours, boys," he called as he went out, "and I'll have something more for you." The room cleared, the reporters tumbling downstairs to make for the nearest telephones to get their "copy" into their respective offices. On the street, a few doors up from the house where they were free from the crowd, Carruthers halted Jimmie Dale. "Jimmie," he said reproachfully, "you certainly made a mark of us both. There wasn't any need to play the 'cub' so egregiously. However, I'll forgive you for the sake of the sketch--hand it over, Jimmie; I'm going to reproduce it in the first edition." "It wasn't drawn for reproduction, Carruthers--at least not yet," said Jimmie Dale quietly. Carruthers stared at him. "Eh?" he asked blankly. "I've taken a dislike to Clayton," said Jimmie Dale whimsically. "He's too patently after free advertising, and I'm not going to help along his boost. You can't have it, old man, so let's think about something else. What'll they do with that bit of paper that's on the poor devil's forehead up there, for instance." "Say," said Carruthers, "does it strike you that you're acting queer? You haven't been drinking, have you, Jimmie?" "What'll they do with it?" persisted Jimmie Dale. "Well," said Carruthers, smiling a little tolerantly, "they'll photograph it and enlarge the photograph, and label it 'Exhibit A' or 'Exhibit B' or something like that--and file it away in the archives with the fifty or more just like it that are already in their collection." "That's what I thought," observed Jimmie Dale. He took Carruthers by the lapel of the coat. "I'd like a photograph of that. I'd like it so much that I've got to have it. Know the chap that does that work for the police?" "Yes," admitted Carruthers. "Very good!" said Jimmie Dale crisply, "Get an extra print of the enlargement from him then--for a consideration--whatever he asks-- I'll pay for it." "But what for?" demanded Carruthers. "I don't understand." "Because," said Jimmie Dale very seriously, "put it down to imagination or whatever you like, I think I smell something fishy here." "You WHAT!" exclaimed Carruthers in amazement. "You're not joking, are you, Jimmie?" Jimmie Dale laughed shortly. "It's so far from a joke," he said, in a low tone, "that I want your word you'll get that photograph