The evening world. Newspaper, May 20, 1914, Page 19

phe Hier Fugue iy re ti re (3 M Rk. J. BRABAZON REN- ‘1 & about to leave his post and @f the paper almost entirely to Nursery” page, conducted by wea ‘Waterman Granville, and de- ong Aang works of the younger set, «twin T. Philpotts; a “Moments 4mong ture of the past, when foreheads were * gpecial pages; « short story; answers @enducted by one B. Henderson Asher journal was that Napoleon of finance, Se gecbel, MAL thie exciting itterchoor CHAPTER IX. "Peaceful Moments.” BHAW, editor-in-chief of Peaceful Moments, was }@m a three months’ vacation. ~metances had left the develop- ‘Mr, Renshaw. Its contents were (a There was a “Moments in _veted mainly fo anecdotes of the 4 canary, by Jane (aged aix), ‘There was a “Moments of Medit: \tlon” page, conducted by the Rev. Ed- the Masters” page, consisting of as- eerted chunks looted from the litera- Belged and thoughts profound, by Mr. Yeashaw himself; one or two other te correspondents on domestic mat- fers, and a “Moments of Mirth” page, —“O very painful affair. ‘Fhe proprietor of this admirable ‘iy, Benjamin Scobell. ‘He had intended to do big things With Peaceful Moments. He had meant to start a new epoch in the Mterature of Manhattan. \ Blood and all that—folks are vf it. They want something tired oA . Wholesome, see what I mean? ies RES ° - too big to yelling 80: , — ‘gon they? ‘el teynn rink ay aaa aoft drink paper. See?" ‘Goon. bi money in it. eo errs te dag} g@aterprise and had left Mr. Renshaw )eto@ free band in running the paper \ Salone the lines of his own innocuous oe since this parting of the ways Reashaw had been in his element. UI hie guidance Peaceful Mo- had reached a level of domes- ity which made other so-called tle journals look like sporting ents. His ears had ager’ . 4g wrecking bis health to such an extent that the doctor had ordered Dim three months’ complete rest in the woods or mountains, whichever be ferred. temporary successor in the editorship was none other than John's friend, Rupert Smith, late of the News. Smith, when, in the company of half @ dozen others, he had had to Jeave the News, had heard of the t post of assistant editor on ful Moments, had applied for and rece!’ it. * "At the present moment he was gaz- fag benevolently at Mr. Renshaw, as @P the Yatter fussed about the office in the throes of departure. well,” chirruped holiday maker—he was a little man with a neck, and he always chirruped “Well, I think that Mr. Smith, 3 s! The stenographer. You my df had resign position three days ‘eefore, in order to get married. : w,” said Smith, “A blonde.” ™S Renshaw looked annoyed. “T ol t to your addressing me a bombed. It is not—it is not—er ‘Atting.” rect the habit. I have been study- ar the principles of Socialism some- I must join the “cause, It looked good to me. You y, and start in by swiping qi you can and sitting on it. A noble acheme. \ ting you.” “ar. nshaw had to pause for @ “| think—ah, yes, I think it would est perhaps to wait for a day. or Fecommend some one. I mentioned the let Yaoancy in the office to her, and she tention. I should prefer, if possible, to give the place to her nominee, " gaid Smith, nderatand, stter seeds of kindne: “ty, @mith'e face was solemn and ithoughtful. * At th with the air of an exile bidding fare- well to his native land, sighed and Smith put his feet upon the table, fiicked a speck of dust from his coat the proofs of Luella Granville ‘Waterman's “Moments in the Nurs- ‘when Pugsy Maloney, the office boy, entered. “Sa: “Bay on, Comrade Maloney.” “Dere’s a loidy out dere wit a let- wSter vs ve you acquainted her with the other climes “Hub? “Have you in the course of your “Unquestionably, Comrade “T have told you before, Mr. Smith, ‘Gay no more,” he said. “I will what deeply of late, and 1 came to ‘work for the equal distribution of Me for it. But I am inter- ‘moment to reorganize his ideas. i tee in case Mra, Onkley should oe aid she would give the matter her at Sg meee d_ eighteen mllion dollars a Renshaw looked at him sharp- door Mr. Renshaw paused trotted out. pervs nd resumed hia task of read- Sn tie had not been working lonk, me 1 sald Pugsy. ad Mr, Renshaw.” ® fact that Mr. Renshaw haa passed to yn with this lady, men- igen’ that Mr. Renshaw has beaten “Sure I did. A whe pie yout nd ehe says can hha removed his feet from the le. “Certainly,” she sald. “Who am I that I should deny people these iittie treats? Ask her to come in, Com- tade Maloney.” CHAPTER X. Betty Makes a Friend. ETTY had appealed to Mas- ter Maloney’s aesthetic sense of beauty directly ehe ap- peared before him. It was with regret, therefore, rather than with the usual calm triumph of the office boy, that he informed her that the editor was not in. Also, seeing that she was evidently perturbed by the information, he had gone out of his way to suggest that she lay her business, whatever it might be, before Mr. Renshaw’s temporary successor. Smith received her with Old-World courtesy, “Will you sit down?" he said. “Not to wait for Comrade Renshaw, of course. He will not be back for an- other three months, Perhaps I can help you. I am acting editor. The work is not light,” he added grat- ultously. “Sometimes the cry goes round New York, ‘Can Smith get through it all? Will his strength sup- port his unquenchable spirit? But I stagger on. I do not repine, What was it that you wished to see Com- rade Renshaw about?" “T came about the typewriting,” she ‘re you the nom!nee?” beg your pardo. Do you come from Mrs. Oakley?” @: “Then all is well. The decks have been cleared against your coming. Consider yourself engaged as our oM- cial typist. By the way, can you type?" Betty laughed. This was certainly not the awkward interview she had been picturing in her mind. “You, ut I'm afraid I'm id Smith. “I'm not Yet here I am. late till we whoop up this domestic journal into a shining model of what @ domestic journal should be. What that is, at present, I do not exactly know. Excursion trains will be run from the Middle West to see this do- mestic journal. Visitors from Oshkos! will do it before going on to Grant's tomb. What exactly is your name?” Betty hesitated. perhaps it would be better to give a false name. “Brown,” she said. “Mine is Smith. The smiling child in the outer office is Pugsy Maloney, one of our most prominent citizens. Homely in appearance, perhaps, but one of us, You will getto like Com- rade Maloney. And now, to touch on & painful subject—work. Would you care to start in now, or have you any other engagements? Perhaps you wish to see tho sights of this beautiful little city before beginning? You would prefer to start in now? Excellent. You could not have come at a more suitable time, for I was on the very point of sallying out to purchase about twenty-five cents’ worth of lunch. We editors, Comrade Brown, find that our tissues noed constant restoration, such is the strenuon nature of our duties. You will find one or two letters on that table. Good- by, then, for the present.” He picked up his hat, smoothed it carefully and with a courtly inclina- tion of his head left the room. Betty sat down and began to think, To her, meditating, there entered Pugsy Maloney, the guardian of the gate of this shrine of Peace, non- chalant youth of abort, fifter with a freckled, mask-like faci pression of which never vi ing in his arms a cat. The cat was struggling violently, but he appeared quite unconscious of it. Its existence did not seem to occur to him. “Say!" said Pugsy. Betty was fond of cats, “Oh, don't hurt her! fously. Master Maloney eyed the cat as if he were seeing it for the first time, “I wasn't hoitin’ her,” h id, with out emotion, “Dere was two fresh kids in the street sickin’ a dawg on to her, And T comes up and says, ‘G'wan! What do youse t'ink youse doin’, fussin’ de poor dumb animal An’ one of de guys, he says, ‘G" Who do youse t'ink youse is? An' IT I'm de guy what's goin’ to swat youse on de coco, smarty, if youse don't quit fussin poor dumb ani- 1" So wit’ dat he makes a break wattin’ me one, but I swats him one, an’ T swats de odder feller one, an’ den T swats dem bote some more, an’ T gits de kitty, an’ I brings her In here, cos I t'inks maybe youse'll look after her. TI can't be boddered myself. Cats is foolishness.” And, having finished this Homeric narrative, Master Maloney fixed an expressionless eye on the ceiling, and was silent. “Will yo go out and get her some milk, Pugsy? She's probably starving. Here's a quarter. Will you keep the change?” “Sure thing,” lone: Ry the time Pugsy returned, car- rying a five-cent bottle of milk, the animal had vacated the chelf, and was sitting on the table, polishing her face. The milk having been poured Into the lid of a tobacco tin, Jn Ueu of a saucer, she suspended her operations and adjourned for refrosh- ments, Pugsy, having no immediate duties on hand, concentrated himself on the cat "Say!" he seid, “Well? “Dat kitty she's wearin’. Betty had noticed earlier in the proceedings that a narrow leather collar encircled the animal's neck, “Guess I know where dat kitty be Jonas. Dey all has dose coll: guess she's one of Bat Jarvis's kitt! 6 cried anx- sented Master Ma- Pipe de leather collar IMISING SHAVE SEEN TALKING SERICUSIN aT DINWER got twenty-t're has dose colla ‘Say! Ain't youse never heard of Bat Jarvis? He's—he's Bat Jarvis.” “Do you know him?" lure, I knows him.’ "Then I think the best thing for you to do Is to run round and tell him that I am taking care of his cat, and that he had better come and fetch it. I must be getting on with my work, or I shall never finish it.” She settled down to type the letters Smith had dictated. She attacked her task itiousl; She was one of those typists who are at their best when they do not have to hurry. She was putting the finishing touches to the last of the batch when there was a shuffling of feet in the outer room, followed by a knock on the door. The next moment there entered a short, rene, young man, Smith nodded thoughtfully, “I don't know tha! Comrade Jarvis is precisely the sort id I_ would go out of my way to select. Still, you never know what might happen. He might come in useful. And now, let us concentrate ourselves tenrely on this very enter- taining little journal of ours, and see if we cannot stagger humanity with t CHAPTER Xi. A Change of Policy. HE feeling of tranquility which had come to Betty on her first acquaintance with Peaceful Moments weemed to deepen as the daya went by, and with each day she found the sharp pain at her heart less t vehement, wore his hair in a well-oiled fringe almost down to his eyebrows, thus presenting the appearance of having no forehead at all. His ¢: were small and set close together. His mouth was wide, his jaw promi- nent; not, in short, the sort of man you would have picked out on sight as a model citizen. He blinked furtively as his eyes met Betty's, id looked around the room. His face lighted up as he saw the ca pping forward, collar, “Ma'am, “Are you Mr. Jarvis?” asked Betty. ‘The visitor nodded, not without a touch of complacency, as of a mon- arch abandoning his incognito, For Mr. Jarvis was a celebrity. By profession he was a dealer in animals, birds and snakes. He had a fancier's shop on Broome street, in the heart of the Bowery. This was on the ground floor, His living abode was in the upper story of that house, and it was there that he kept the twenty-three cats whose necK® were adorned with leather collars. ¥ But it was ngt the fact that he possessed twenty-three cats with leather collars that had made Mr. Jar- vis a celebrity. A man may win a local reputation, if only for eccen- tricity, by such means. Mr. Jarvis's reputation was far from being pure- ly local. Broadway knew him, and the Tenderloin. Tammany Hall knew him. Long Island City knew him. For Bat Jarvis was the leader of the famous Broome Street Gang, the largest and most influential of the four big gangs of the east side. To Betty, so little does the world often know of its greatest men, he erely a decidedly repellent- young man in unbecoming But his evident affection for the cat gave her a feeling of fellow- ship toward him, She beamed upon him, and Mr. Jarvis, who was wont to face the glare of rivals without flinching, avoided her eye and shuf- fled with embarrassment. : “I'm so glad she's safe Retty. “There were two boys t her in the street. I've been her some milk ’ Mr. Jarvis nodded, with his eyes on _the floor. ‘There was a pause. Then he looked up, and, fixing his gaze some three feet above her head, spoke. “Say!” he said, and paused again, Betty waited expectantly. He relaxed into ailence again, ap- parently thinking. “Say!” he sald. “Ma'am, obliged. Fond of de kit. Tam.” “She's a dear,” said Betty, tickling the cat under the ear, “Ma‘am,” went on Mr. Jarvis, pur- suing bis theme, “obliged. Shan't fer- wit It, Any time you're In bad, glad to be of service, Bat Jarvis, Broome Pitt Anybody'll show youse where live He paused and shuffled his feet; then, tucking the cat more firmly un- der his arm, left the room. Betty heard him shuffling downstairs. He had hardly gone when the door opened again, and Smith came tn. “So you have had company while T wan away?" he eal "Who was the grandee with the ca An old child- hood's friend? he trying to sell the animal to us?” “That was Mr. Bat Jarvis,” said Betty. Smith looked interested. “Bat! What was he doing here?” Betty related the atory of the cat, NEXT WEERK’S COMPLETE NOVEL === IN THE EVENING WORLD = Moreover, she found herself watch- ing with keen interest Mr. Smith's drastic changes of policy in the con- duct of Peaceful Moments. Smith had ideas of Lis own. He resolved to profit by his three months of limit- less power by running the paper along lines of his own devising. His first move was to get rid of every contributor to Peaceful Moments— ascertaining that none of ¢hem need- ed the salary, as all were Well to do— and to start afresh. He delighted the office boy by in- stalling a sporting department and featuring therein one Kid Brady, a lightweight championship aspirant. Smith was wild with enthusiasm over his own ideas, “This is a big thing,” he said to Betty. “Wait till you see the first number along the new line. My idea is that Peaceful Momente shall become @ pretty warm proposition. Its tone ehall be such that the public will wonder why we do not print it on asbestos. We shall comment on all the live events of the week—mur- ders, Wall atreet acandals, glove fights, and the like, in a manner which will make our readers’ spines thrill. Above all, we shall be the guardians of the people's rights. We shall be @ spotlight, showl up the dark places and bringing into prominence those who would endeavor in any way to put the people in dutch. We shall detect the wrongdoer, and hand him such a series of resentful wallops that he will abandon his little games and become a model citizen. In this way we shall produce a bright, read- able little sheet which will make our city sit up and take notice. | think eo, 1 think #o, And now | must be hustling about and seeing our new contributors, There is no time to waste.” There was once an editor of a paper in the Far West who was sitting at his desk, musing pleasantly on life, wnen @ bullet crashed through the window and imbedded Itself in the wall at the back of his head. A hanpy smile lighted up the editor's face. “Ah!" he said, complacently, “I knew that personal column of ours would make a b What the bullet was to the Far editor, the visit of Mr. Martin Park to the offices of Peaceful Moments was to Smith. It occurred shortly after the publi- cation of the second number of the new series, and was directly due to Betty's first and only suggestion for not staggered humanity, it had at least caused certain amount of going on in New York. The papei wero consequently free to take notice of the change in the policy of Peace- ful Moments. Through the agency of Smith's newspaper friends it received some very gatisfactory free adver- tisement, and the sudden increase in the sales enabled Smith to bear up with fortitude against the numerous letters of complaint from old sub- these filled his mind. ae The rting sention paper pleased him most, The ‘sea iampe 4 moody and important in an attitude of self-defense, filled half a page, and under the photograph was the legend, “Jimmy Garvin must meet this boy.” Jimmy was the present holder of the lightweight title. He had won it a year before, and since then had confined himself to (my | cigars as long as walking etioks appearing ly in «a vaudeville sketch entitled, “A Fight for Honor. His reminiacences were being pub- Nahed in a Sunday eats the tik It was this that gave of publishing Kid Brady’e autobiog: raphy in Peaceful Moments, an ide: which won the Kid's whole-hearted gratitude, Like most pugilists, he had a passion for burating into print, Print te ti! fighter’a accolade, I! signifies that he has arrived. He was grateful to Smith, too, for not editing his contributions. Jimmy Gar- ed under the sul jaton of a member of the staff of his Sun- day paper, who deleted his best pass- ages and altered the rest into Addi- sonian English. The readers of Peace- ful Moments got their Brady raw. “Comrade Brady,” said Smith medi- tatively to Betty one morning, “has a singularly pure and pleasing styte. It is bound to hia F powerfully to the many-headed. Listen to this. Our hero is fighting one Benson in the Lees claco, an for the native son. Here is Comrade Brady on the aubject: ‘I looked around that house, and I eeen I hadn't a friend in it. And then the gong goss, and I saya to myself how I has one friend, me old mother down in Illinois, and I goes in and mixes it, and then I seen Benson losing his t, #o T gives him a@ half-scissors hook, and in the next round I picks up @ sleep- producer from the hands it to him, and he takes the count.’ That ja what the public wants. Crisp, lucid and to the point, If that does not get him a fight with eome eminent person nothing will.” He. leaned perk sg chal “What we really need now,’ thoughtfully, “is a good, it, muck-raking neries. That's the thing to put a paper on the map, The f it is that everythi Lene J ck of your mind? Or proofs that nut sundaes are composed prin. and outlying It would be the making of us.” Now, it happeed that in the course of her rambles through the city Betty had lost herself one morning in the slums, rience had impreased iteelf on her mind with an extraor- dinary vividness. Her lot had always been cast in pleasant places, and she had never before been brought into close touch with this side of life. The sight of actual raw misery had come home to her with an added force from that circumstance. Wandering on, ehe had reached a street which eclipsed in cheeriessness even ita squalid neighbors. All the emella and noises of the East Side seemed to be penned up here in a sort of canyon. The masses of dirty clothes hanging from the fire-escapes increased the atmosphere of depression. Groups of scene so indelibly on her memory. She loved children, and these seemed eo draggied and uncared for. Smith's words gave her an idea. atreet, Mr. Yea, 1 there once to get a story, one red-hot night in August, when I wan on the News, The Ice Com; been putting up ir pl trouble was expected down there. ‘Wan sent to cover it.” did not add that he had spent a week's salary that night, buying ice ands distributing it among the deni- tal tens of Broster street. “It's an awful place,” said Betty, her eyes filling with tears. “Those poor ehildren!” Smith nodded, “Some of thone tenement houses are fierce,” he said thoughtfully. Like Retty, he found himself with a ain- Rularly clear reoollection of his one visit to Broster atrec! ‘Rut you can't do anything.” “Why not?" erled Hatty. not? Surely you couldn't have a bet- ter subject for your series? It's wicked. People only want to be told about them to make them better. Why can't we draw attention to them?” ‘It's been done already, Not about Broster street, but about other tene- "Oh, why Are You Going Away for the Summer? When difficult an matter. fo out of town for the summer you may find it Is costly to provide yourself with the right sort of reading Why send to the city for novels at $1,25 or $1.50 each or buy them at a fancy price in some country store? You can supply yourself with the best, most delightful summer reading for six cents a week. wl you will subscribing to The Evening World for the summer months secure a complete novel each week. Not some old book a country dealer has not been able to sell, nit the finest up-to-date fiction by the foremost living authors. Bear this in m , not only for yourself but for any of your friends who expect to spend the summer in the country. ments, Tenements as a subject are Played out. The public ian’t inter- ested in them. Besides, it wouldn't be 7 You oan't tree the man who spend thousands scar ‘he land belongs in ¢ @ome corporation or other. it to @ lemee. When there's a fuss, they say pied aren't responsible, it's up to the leases, And he, bright boy, foe #0 low you can’t find out who he “But we could try,” urged Betty. Smith looked at curtously, The cause wag plainly one that lay near to her heart. Her face waa flushed and eager, He wavered and, having wavered, he did what no practical man should do. Me allowed sentiment to interfere with business. He knew that a series of articles on street would probably be @o much dead weight on the paper, something to eee by the reader, ut t up evidence. first place to fow crisp subject I'll print them.” Betty's first instalment was on the following morning. It pred curtous composition. A critic might have classed it with Kid Brady's remi- niscences, for there was a complete absence of literary style. It was just &@ wail of pity and a cry of indigna- tion, straight from the heart and spilt up into pal he, Smith read it with interest and eent it off to the printer unaltered. “Have anot! Comrade Brown,” he sald. “It's a long shot, but thie might turm out to be me ret ‘we need.” nd when, two days after the pub- Heation of the number : article, Mr. Martin Parker called at the office, he felt that the long shat bad won out. He was holding forth on life in gen- eral to Hetty shortly before the luncheon hour when Pugsy Maloney. entered bearing a card. lartin Parker?” sald Smith, tak- ing it. “I don’t know him. We make new friends dally.” “He's a guy wit’ a tall-shaped hat,” volunteered Master Maloney, “an’ he's wearing @ dude suit an’ shiny shoes: Somrade Parker,” said Smith ap- rovingly, “hi vidently not been e importance of a visit to Peaceful Moments. has himeelf in his best. fe has felt, rightly, that this is no occasion for the flannel suit and the old straw hat. I would not have it otherwise. responsible, unless you can he containing the “ al By P. G. Wodehouse } Author of ‘' TH spare doubloons in making tor street fit to live in?” “It's not so much the money. It's the publicity. There are reasons why his B public that he's the owner of the tenements down there.” “Well, he knows what to do. If he makes Broster street fit for a not- too-fastidious pig to live in”—— Mr, Parker coughed—a tentative cough, sugwesting that the situation was now avent to enter upon a more delicate phase. “Now, see here, sir,” he said, “I'm going to be frank. I’m going to put my cards on the table, and see if we can't fix something up. Now, see here. We don't want any unpleas- antness. You aren't in this business for your health, eh? You've got your living to make, same as everybody eles, I guess. Woll, thin how it inde, To w certain extent, I don’t mind owning, with you've got ua— gentleman I'in Bpea! of— © dy, that Broster street has attracted attention—I saw it my- self in two Sunday papers—and if there's going to be any more of INTRUSION J1MuMT”? = would prefer not to have it made from them——- Well, now, here's a equare it Proposition. How much do you want to stop those articles? That's at t. I've been frank with you, and I want you to be frank with me, What's your figure? Name it, and tf you don't want the earth I giess we Mfie" looked ‘expactantly at _ ami elo! « at th. Smith, gazing sadly at him throu his monocie, aoe juletly, with restrained dignity of some old Roman Senator dealing with the enemies of Republic. “Comrade Parker,” he sald, “Tt fear that you have allowed your inter- course with this worldly city to under- mine your moral sense. It is useless to.dangle rich bribes before the edito- rial eyes. 1 Moments cannot be muzzled. You doubtless mean well, according to your somewhat murky airy but we are not for sale, except cents weekly. From the hii of Maine to the Evergiades of from Portland, Ore., Mel give you three Give it wp? It is this: ‘ ments cannot be muzsied!'” Mr. Parker rose. “Nothing doing, then?” he salé. “Notl ae ‘Mr. Parker picked up his hat. “Gee here,” he said, a gratin, hitherto smooth It ls the right spirit. Show the guy ci in. We will give him audience.” ery withdrew. Mr. Martin Parker proved to be a man who might have been any between thirty-five had a dark face and a black mus- tache. As Pugasy had stated, in ef- fect, he wore a morning coat, trou- sere with a crease which brought a smile of kindly approval to Smith's face, and patent leather shoes of pro- nounced shininess, ‘want to see the editor,” he sald. “Will you take a seat?” said Smith He pushed a chair toward the vii itor, who seated meaningly at in to move Gmith nodded to went te something happened’ te this pares met hin, theno. last few weeks? Tt used not to take such an interest in things, used it? “You are very right,” ded Smith, “Comrade Renshaw's meth- oda were good in their way. I have no quarrel with Comrade Renshaw. But he did not lead public thought, He catered exclusively to children with water on the brain and men and women with solid ivory skulls. I feel that there are other and larger pub- Nea, I cannot content myself with ladiing out a weekly dole of predi- geatod mental breakfast food, 1”—— “Then you, guess,” aid Mr. Parker, “are responsible for this Bros- ter atreet thing?” at Ra rate, I ay fern, oe St and put it in the paper. If any huaky guy, as Comrade Maloney would put it, is anxious to atm a swift kick at the aid Mr. Parker. He paused. ‘Number one’ in the paper. Does that mean there are going to be more of them?” “There is no flaw in your reasoning. ‘There are to be several more.” Mr. Parker looked at the door, It was closed. He bent forward, he sald, “I'm going to ght, if you'll let me.” juredly, Comrade Parker, There tween ua, I would not have away and aay to yourself, ‘Did I make my meaning clear? Was 1 too elusive?” Mr. Parker scratched the floor with the point of a ou gO come to pe article? Doen it fall short in any way of your standard for such work?" Mr. Parker came to the point. “It I were you,’ quit It. T shouldn't go on with those articles. “Why?” inquired Smith. js! use,” eaid Mr. Parker. He looked at Smith pond. ot completely. h id, “TI fei gather your ar I must ask to me with still more breezy frankness, Do you speak from purely friendly ‘motive: Are you advising me to discontinue the series because you fear that it will the literary reputation of the papi Do you speak solely as a literary con- noisseur? Or are there other re: wons?” Mr. Parker leaned forward. “The gentioman whom I sent"— “Then this is no matter of your own Personal tas There is another?” aonting & gentie- all be nameless, and I've pehalf to tip you off to this feet articles of venience. “Financial? Do you mean that he may possibly have to spend some of C) forty-five. He oelt “him with @ ‘beng that a one stories BS Fart ais rel iy onal foe In you at all, you’ p them before you get burt. Thate. all T've got to say, and that goes.” He went out, closing the door behing ir added ¢m- mR er PG ane aateting “All very painful ani ta murmured Smith. “Comrade Brown!” he called. Batty came in. “Did our late visitor bite a piece out of you on his way out? He was in ‘ mood to do something of the wort.’ “He seemed angry,” said Betty. “He was angry,” said Bmith. “Do you know what hae happened, Com- rade Brown? With your very first piatbades: to the pal you have it the bull’s-eye. You have done the State ‘some service. Friend Parker came as the representative of the owner of those Bronter street houses. He wanted to buy us off. We've got them ecared, or he wouldn’t have shown his hand with such refreshing candor. Have you any engagements at present?” “I was just going out to lunch, if you could spare me.” “Not alone. This lunch ts on the As editor of this journal I will ain you, if you will allow mi magnificent banquet. Moments t# grateful to you, Peace- ful Moments,” ho added, with the he ‘West through the window, you, going some now.” ‘When they returned from lunch and re-entered the outer office Pugsy Maloney, raising his eyes for a mo- ment from k, met them with the information that ano’ caller a a and was waiting in the inner room. “Dere's a guy in dere waitin’ to see use,” he ald, jerking his head yo toward the door, “Yet another guy? This is our ve a name?” wald Mas- bg % Dida John Maude!” he said. "Great! John, not interested, & moment's notice © tion, I é i ! 5 i : fi f 8 wondering what on earth “hole the yp with himeelf afl this Good old John! You'll like he said, turning, and stopped abruptly, for he was speaking to the Betty had disappeared, Miss Brown, Pugsy?” be d she go?” ay vouchsafed another. jerk of jad in the direction of the outer ‘She's beaten it," he said. “I seen make @ break for de stairs. Guess a forgotten to remember some- t'lng,” he added indifferently, turning once more to his romance of prairie fe. “Gofle is bone-headi CHAPTER XII. The Man at the Hotel. EF RAINING from discussing with Master Maloney the alleged bone-headednesa of girls, Smith went through into the Inner room, and found John aitting in the editorial chair, glancing through the latest number of Peaceful Moments. “Why, John, friend of my youth,” he watd, all this time? I called you up at your oMce weeks ago, and an acid voice in- formed me that you ware no longer there, Have you been fired?” “Yeu, aid Jobn. “Why aren't you on the News any more? Nobody seemed to know where you were, till I met Faraday this morning, who told me you were here.’ “where have you been hiding 1 bupre! for adventure and 0 knew. The easy -gol! had known of old would ow have deserted the danger sone, he would not have welcomed en' it so keenly, It was was hungry for 0.0 Teper had given him the knowledge only given in ite ent to police and no men: two New Yorks—one a moderna, policed elty, through which one may walk from end ering adventure; the a city as full of sinister intrigue, of spiracies, of battle, mur- death rtain conditions, anything may pen in New York, And Smith that these conditions now pi in his own case, He had come confilet with New York’ Circumstances had placed Rim the surface, where only his wits: help him. ‘ (To Be Contigued.)