He was exceedingly polite, expressing "Mr.
Buckley's deep regret," about the matter. But there was in his eye a
furtive mockery, in his tight-lipped mouth a covert sneer.
Francisco went directly to the office of The Bulletin, relating his
experience to the veteran editor. "I supposed as much," said Pickering.
He tapped speculatively on the desk with his pencil. "What's more, I
think there's little to be done at present. Printing the story of
Platt's Hall will only be construed as a bit of political recrimination.
San Francisco rather fancies gambling palaces."
"Jack!" he called to a reporter. "See if you can locate Jerry Lynch." He
turned to Stanley. "There's the fellow for you: Senator Jeremiah Lynch.
Know him? Good. You get evidence on Buckley. Consult with Lynch
concerning politics. He'll tell you ways to checkmate Chris you wouldn't
dream of...."
Pickering smiled and picked up a sheet of manuscript. Francisco took the
hint. From that day he camped on Buckley's trail. Bit by bit he gathered
proofs, some documentary, some testimonial. No single item was of great
importance. But, as a whole, Robert had assured him, it was weaving a
net in which the blind boss might one day find himself entrapped.
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