Jewel Weed

About a month after Lena had made her investment in the raw materials of

the writer's art, Dick Percival happened to drop into the sooty and

untidy office where for more than a year Norris had been engaged in

manufacturing public opinion.

"Hello!" he cried as he opened the door. Then he stood transfixed at the

vision that met his sight, for a very blond and fuzzy head was bent over

Ellery's desk and a very startled pair of blue eyes was raised to meet

his own. There stood a rosebud dressed in gray. Is there anything more

demure and innocent than a pinky girl in a mousy gown? Dick's hat came

off and a deferential look replaced the careless one.

"Hello, yourself!" said Norris. "You announce yourself like a telephone

girl. Come in. What do you mean by troubling the quiet waters of my

daily toil?"

"I beg your pardon," said Dick politely. "If you are busy I--"

"That's all right. Miss Quincy and I can postpone our confab without

inconveniencing the order of the universe." Miss Quincy was already

gathering her notes, and she smiled at Dick in a half-shy way that said,

"I remember you very plainly." As she disappeared slowly down the hall,

Dick started after her.

"Great Scott, Ellery!" he ejaculated. "How you have lied to me about the

grubbiness of your work! If this is your daily grind, I don't mind

having a whirl at the editorial profession myself."

Norris laughed.

"It isn't the sum total of my duties," he said.

"Who is Hebe?" asked Dick.

"Well, she's rather a problem," Ellery replied. "I believe she appeared

a few weeks ago at Miss Huntress' office--the woman editor, you

know--with a catchy little article on fashions. It happened that the

boss was in the office, and we consider it rather a grind on him, for he

was much taken by either the article or the eyes, and she got a little

job as a sort of reportorial maid-of-all-work. Funny, isn't it? If a

man is buying a rug, he wouldn't think of deciding on it because it was

green, without testing its wearing qualities; but in nine cases out of

ten a girl gets chosen because of her eyes. That's all I know about her.

Pretty, isn't she?"

"Pretty! Is that all the command you have of your native language? You

ought to lose your job for that. Why she's--never mind--I haven't time

now."

"Neither have I," answered Norris sharply. He remembered that long ago

Dick had called Madeline pretty. It is a cheap and easy word. "I haven't

time for you, either. Will you go away; or will you keep still while I

finish this work?"

"Waltz away." Dick sat down on the window-sill and fell into a

meditative state of mind. Once or twice he walked to the door and looked

down the hall, while Norris plugged steadily away and ignored the

presence of his friend.