“The clock goes faster if you don’t keep watching it.” Mr. Bryant didn’t even look up from his desk as he made the comment.

Annabelle nodded. “I’ll get back to work,” she said, leaning over the wheat kernels.

“Do you suppose they’ll mention your name in the article?” Horace asked.

“I certainly hope not!”

Horace and Mr. Bryant knew about the pending article. They’d been fully supportive of Annabelle’s participation in recruiting Good Housekeeping to help sound the alarm about food adulteration, but that didn’t mean she wanted any personal attention.

“Why not?” Horace pressed. “How often do government bureaucrats get a chance to shine in the spotlight?”

“If a spotlight ever shines my way, I’ll run for cover.”

“Not me,” Horace said. “Did you read about the daughter of the Attorney General? I heard she paid to have a rumor started that she is being courted by the Russian ambassador. It’s all part of a ploy to launch her stage career. You see? There’s no such thing as bad gossip.”

Their supervisor’s dry voice cut through Horace’s delight. “Mr. Greenfield, the government is not paying you to gossip about the Attorney General’s daughter.”

“Pity.” Horace sighed and turned his attention back to his microscope.

Annabelle glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes.

“Take off early,” Mr. Bryant said.

She sucked in a quick breath. “Really?” It was so unlike the staid Mr. Bryant, but he actually managed to crack a bit of a smile.

“You’re completely useless to us while your mind is on that article. Go out and get your magazine.”

“Thank you!” she said as she dashed out the door.

Her footsteps echoed in the cavernous stairwell as she bounded downstairs, then hiked up her skirts to run toward the nearest newsstand at the corner of Independence and Twelfth Street. A stitch pinched her side, and she had to wiggle through a row of other people lined up at the kiosk. Sometimes she really hated being short.

“Do you have the new Good Housekeeping?” she shouted.

The vendor nodded and passed her the issue. She gave him a dollar and didn’t even wait for the change as she headed a few paces away, flipping to page nine. Her breath caught as she saw the headline.

Nation’s Largest Food Producer Dishing Up Dishonest Food

This was it! A full three pages long too! She skimmed the article, her eyes moving faster than her brain could read, but all the right words were here. Mrs. Sharpe had indeed sent up a clarion battle cry.

Annabelle was still walking on air as she headed to the Library of Congress to pick up Elaine, who was already waiting for her at the streetcar stop.

“It’s out!” Annabelle said as she joined Elaine on the bench.