stopped and waited for her to speak. But she could only echo the word
stupidly. Then she managed to convey to him that she wanted him to go
on. He did, but his voice seemed to have lost something of its
intensity, and his words came with more confidence.

"Yes. I've told you so indirectly many times. But I never made it
personal, partly because I hated to put my hopes to the test, partly
because there seemed no opening. Now I have the opening. The divinity
that shapes our ends is doing its best for me, it seems. I learned
yesterday that _The Dispatch_ would sell out at a ridiculous figure.
That made me screw my courage up to the testing point. I came up this
morning to tell you about it. Then your brother--why, it couldn't have
worked out better for me! The opportunity his future offers as a lever
to move you ... well, Miss Wynrod, what do you think?"

She laughed unaffectedly at that.

"What do I think? Heavens. How _can_ I think. You fire an entirely novel
idea at me and expect me to answer at once. You've stunned me."

"But it's not new," cried Good. "We've talked the idea of this over a
hundred times."

"The oldest thing in the world is new when it's applied to one's self
for the first time," said Judith sententiously.

"Still, it isn't really new, is it?" he persisted.

"Well--not entirely," she admitted.

"Of course not. It's Roger's part in it that's new. That bewilders you,
of course."

"What _is_ his part?" she interrupted.

"Running a newspaper is exactly like running any other kind of a
business--only harder. He'd be the manager--with assistance of
course--with a chance to make all out of himself that he can. He'd be
your representative."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "That seems to dispose of him. Now where
does Brent Good fit into the scheme of things?"

"Wherever he fits. Give him $15 a week and he'd fit anywhere. That would
be enough of a raise over his present honorarium to justify him in
changing."

"You're joking," she cried.

"About the salary? Not a bit. It's enough. Besides, it leaves room for
promotion. As a matter of fact I've been told by potential employers
that it was too much."

Good was silent then, and Judith also, each waiting for the other to
speak. But it happened that the silence was finally broken by Roger,
whose impatience had become too much to bear any longer.

"Well," he said from the doorway, with a most elaborate attempt at
casuality. "Is the great mystery