After a prolonged silence, Dick spoke again, solemnly: "I should like to meet her."

"Whom?"

"Miss--Quincy, did you call her?"

"Oh! Isn't she rather out of your class?"

"Pshaw! Don't talk of classes, now that you're out of college. Do you

know anything about her?"

"Nothing," said Ellery shortly. "I don't consider it my business to go

beyond my official relations."

"Well, I haven't any business relations not to go beyond," said Dick.

"So I mean to pursue the inquiry."

"Do as you like," Ellery answered. "Is that what you came down here to

talk about?"

"No," said Dick, changing his manner. "I came to talk up an editorial

campaign. You don't know my chum, Olaf Ericson, do you? He's the biggest

man on the force, and he's a corker. I've learned more from him about

bad smells than I did in two years of chemistry at New Haven. He knows

this town from the seventh sub-cellar up, and 'him and me is great

friends'. Seriously, Norris, I've begun to get hold of just the facts I

wanted about 'the combine', and it's information that is so very

definite and to the point that I believe I can make it hot for them. I

want the public to be kept informed on everything that is to their

discredit. Now the Star is a fairly clean paper, as papers go. I want

help."

"You'll have to go up higher for that, my boy. It's not for a freshman

like myself to direct the policy of the paper. It would be a pretty

serious matter to run up against those fellows. Mr. Lewis, the old man,

is out, but when he comes back we'll go and have a talk with him."

"Talk to him! I should think so!" Dick exclaimed, and he began to pace

the room and pour out the floods of his information, in wrath of soul

and glow of spirits at his resolve to clean things up.

Meanwhile in Miss Huntress' office, farther down the hall, Lena was

discussing with that determined person the possibility of supplying the

public with more of the kind of literature for which women, in

particular, are supposed to have a mad desire. Miss Huntress was an

adept at filling her page with personalities by which those who know

nobody may have almost as great a knowledge of the great as those who

have achieved the proud distinction of being "in it". Lena had written a

highly successful series of articles on "St. Etienne as seen from the

shop windows," and she longed for new and similar fields to conquer.

"I've been wondering," said Miss Huntress, "if you couldn't get up some

catchy little things on private libraries and picture galleries. If you

can raise some photographs to go with them, you might make quite a hit.

That's the kind of thing that takes. You see it makes people able to

talk about the inside of rich folk's houses."




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