Explore "The Turn of the Tide" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It still wanted some quarter of an hour from midnight when Ellis flung himself into a taxi outside Rust's rooms and directed the driver to take him to the offices of the _Telephone._ In the horror and excitement of the evening he had entirely forgotten the reason why he had first embarked upon the problem connected with those robberies on the river.
He had been seated talking to Geoffrey Rust and discussing the future, when just after Rust had mentioned the fact that Major Langley was at last in a position to make a definite move, he had recollected the duty that he owed to his paper. No one knew better than himself how quickly these things get talked about; he was quite aware of the small army of hack journalists who always hang about a police station late at night on the off-chance of picking up some exclusive piece of information likely to lead to a paragraph which, properly manipulated, would keep the writer in comfort for a week. And if this happened, then the _Telephone_ would be forestalled, and he would have his pains for nothing.