chapter twenty eight jack peters was just leaning back in his chair a cup of coffee in one hand and a flask of bourbon in the other wondering if it might not be an idea to skip the coffee altogether just to shake things up

when his door burst open with a loud clatter peters did not need to look up from his deliberations to know who it was.

"'Mining Chief,' he said.

"'Is that the bulldog?'

"'Of course it's the bulldog,' Pearly growled,

nearly splitting the stem of his pipe with his clenched teeth as he did so.

"'Don't ask me stupid questions.'

"'Something's under your saddle awful early this morning, Jack smiled.

Care to join me in a nightcap before I retire?

The morning edition of the Chronicle slapped down on Jack's desk.

The headline blazed in bold print,

Red Pander destroys mechanical men,

above a large photograph of city workers extracting the remains of Captain Clockwork's army from the sewer pipe that had become their grave.

Editor Purley glowered.

Jack Peters smiled and batted his eyelashes as appealingly as he could.

"'It's real pretty, isn't it?' he asked, taking a drink.

"'Confound it, Jack! where in thunder did you get this photo?

Purley snapped.

Photos. Jack's mouth plural.

Not much good unless they need to buy a paper to see the others.

I saw the others, Purley snapped.

I thought you might.

...