Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Mr. Reporter

The caught man got himself up from the ground, carefully brushed the dust off his new clothes, and expertly punched Crazy Bill in the stomach.The latter let out a strange cry of "嗤", and bent down in pain.Curley jumped forward like a spring, aimed at the man in the face and hit him hard.The man dodged deftly, and flashed behind Officer Quinn with a sneer on the corner of his mouth.Suddenly a tense fight is about to begin, but the appearance of Officer Willie reverses the situation.He caught Curley's hands unexpectedly from behind, then lifted the little skinny man by the neck effortlessly, grabbing them both left and right.Across the police officer's high chest, the two looked at each other helplessly like children.At this time, a group of cowboys came forward.

Officer Quinn sternly said: "Stand back, otherwise, I'll arrest you all."—the crowd stopped—"Now, Thomas, let go of your hands quickly, I want this man to live , don't die." The police officer obediently released the two men from his hands.The two shook their bodies in embarrassment.Ellery, for some reason, had been watching Grant secretly, and found that his rough leathery face was dull and yellow, as if hiding a mass of lifelessness. The captive took out a cigarette and lit it, and said calmly, "That punch, sir," he said in a high-pitched voice, like a Gatling gun, to the silent old entertainer, "let it teach you a lesson. : From now on, don’t touch our miserable workers in the fourth industry with your dirty hands.”

Grant made a grunt in his throat. "Shut up, you!" Officer Quinn snapped, "Stop it. The nonsense should be over. If you have something to say, speak quickly, and keep it simple." Workers in the fourth industry calmly puffed out the smoke from their mouths.The man was thin, with blond and slightly curly hair, and slightly tired eyes. "How is it?" Officer Quinn asked urgently. "I'm trying to figure out a simple explanation," said the man lazily. Officer Quinn smiled slightly: "Aha!" he said, "Broadway sharp-tongued fritters. I think I can tell which pot it came from even though it was a different place. You are yourself Seriously, or do you want us to take you back to the Criminal Investigation Headquarters?"

"Don't, that's terrible." The man grinned happily. "I'll say it anyway, old gentleman—as long as you don't take me as the murderer—the horses are not the murderers in this case? Now introduce yourself, my lord. It is God's gift to Broadway, Mrs. Lanes's youngest son, Teddy -- a world-renowned columnist who specializes in undercover investigations, scandals, and wounds! The gossip and dirty inside stories I know, More than you, you, and you put together!" Officer Willie snorted disdainfully, and his lips trembled slightly. It seemed that something disgusting was sprayed out, and even the surrounding air was disturbed.

"Teddy Lanes," said Officer Quinn thoughtfully, "yes, yes. You've got big news again, haven't you? So..." "Of course," said Lyons triumphantly, pulling up his smart jeans with a smug look. "Now that we all know each other, Officer, it's time for me to go too. You've had enough fun, my friend." Buffalo Madness Bill Grant has had enough of his work, and got a punch in the stomach. Little Teddy has to get to the paper office across town as soon as possible, with the most exciting news of the year. So little Teddy, I..." "There are still some things that Little Teddy hasn't explained clearly to us. You must have an explanation," Officer Quinn said with a smile.Then, he said sternly, "Say it all, Lyons. I don't have so much time to waste on you tonight! What are you trying to do in it dressed like a real cowboy?"

"Aha," said Lines, "cops can be so mean, huh? Listen, old man, do you know who I am? I'm the famous Teddy Lines, and if I want to go, all of you Keyston Even the police station can't stop me!" Officer Quinn frowned, and he looked at Officer Willie.Officer Willie walks over to Lyons... Lyons looked around.This little farce is developing under the watchful eyes of 20,000 people. "Ah, my Mr. Grahard," Lioness muttered anxiously, straightening up his back, with a sly and fierce light in his eyes, "what kind of a monk are you, what kind of monk are you. I want to leave Here, if anyone thinks he can stop me..."

The crowd was annoyed, and Grant and his son, Officer Willie, Tony Mars, and half a dozen other cowboys approached Lynes one after another.He smirked and held up his arm, clutching a tiny pistol—a flat-muzzled, ugly, impossibly small automatic.Everyone stopped in astonishment. "Isn't this big man yellow?" He said with a dry smile, his eyes flickering. Officer Willie rushed up without any delay, and knocked out his gun: "Damn idiot, you still think it's weird," the officer said calmly, picking up the gun on the ground, "It's okay to take such a thing." Don't be afraid to hurt people."

Lyons' face turned pale. "He has to have the guts too!" He suddenly laughed strangely: "Forget it, forget it," he couldn't help laughing, "Teddy has surrendered. But let me tell you, my dad..." "Give me that gun, Thomas," said Sergeant Quinn quietly.The officer handed the gun over.Officer Quinn opened the magazine and looked into the firing chamber.Not a single bullet. "A .25," the old man murmured, his eyes narrowed, "but it hasn't been fired, and it smells..." He sniffed the muzzle. "That's bad for you, Lyons .Hit it now, God can be my judge, and I'll see how you end up pointing a gun at a police officer!"

Lyons shrugged and lit another cigarette. "I'm sorry, I apologize. I've only had two small glasses, and I'm not too drunk, officer. I only did it to show off." He wearily Eyelids half down. "How did you get in here?" "I rented a cowboy costume from Forty-fifth Avenue and got here half an hour early. The doorman thought I was there for a show and let me in. I looked around, found the stables, and picked out one for myself. a horse, and went galloping with the battalion, and then—here I am." "You, of course, are the worst show-offs," Ellery whispered mockingly, "but I can't see how your ego can be satisfied by such a blind and stupid act. Just running behind other people's ass..."

"You know what?" Lyons said, "I'm way past the fussy school days. I've got a photographer in one of the boxes. I'm going to get close to Horn and have the photographer take a picture of the two of us." Together. This way I will show my face, and once I publish the interview article, my tabloid will also start. Unfortunately, bad luck, before I can get close to the big hero, some bastard beat him down La." Everyone was silent for a moment. "Nice calculation, eh?" said Ellery grimly. "How far is your horse from Buck Horne, Lyons?" "Not too close, shrewd sir," said Lyons, "not too close."

"How far is it?" "I'm at the end of the bunch of fools." Officer Quinn whispered to Officer Willie and asked, "Which box is your photographer in, Lynes?" The columnist pointed carelessly to a box just a few feet away from Mars's.Sergeant Willie left immediately.In a moment he came back with a young man with a wide mouth, scared to death, and a Grafflex camera in his hand.The man was immediately searched and the camera was turned on for inspection.Nothing suspicious was found.The man was put back in place, and Officer Quinn looked at the tabloid thoughtfully: "Lines, there is still something wrong here. Do you have a premonition that something is going to happen?" Lyons grumbled, "Oh! I wish I could! I wish I had known!" "You've been hanging out with the Cowboys before you hit the field with the Colts, haven't you?" "No, I'm afraid of being recognized." "Then what were you doing then?" "Oh, just dangling casually." "Notice anything suspicious?—any detail that might be of use to us." "No shit, old cop!" "Where did you get that .25 automatic you were wielding just now?" "That's nothing to worry about, criminologist. I have a gun license." "Where did you get it?" "Bought it from Santa Claus! Of course! What's the matter--you don't think I did it?" "Tag this gun, Thomas," Sergeant Quinn ordered calmly, "take all the hard stuff off him, my God, this guy's going to be a living arsenal!" There are also two long-barreled revolvers in Lyons' comical prop holster. The officer removed them one by one, handed them over to the assistant, and searched Teddy Lanes all over, so relentlessly and thoroughly that the man groaned in disapproval. "That's all, sir," Willie said. "Where did you get these guns?" Inspector Quinn asked commandingly. "From the underground armory. I saw those guys got their guns from there, so I took too...Damn it, sir, I didn't miss a single shot!" Sergeant Quinn checked the two guns: "They're all blanks. I think that's where you got the bullets, huh? That's enough, Thomas, get this little lunatic out of the field. But watch out—don't let anyone stuff him outside on the way out." "I'll remember," Officer Willie replied cheerfully, twisting Lyons' arm and leading him toward a small exit at the edge of the field.The tongue-in-cheek kid--the columnist for the stinking tabloid "Insider Tip"--didn't have a chance to rap for a while, disappeared with the police officer.

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