here am I going to
get it? Useless to ask Papa."

Evan was silent. There was nothing for him to say.

George Deaves looked at him aggrievedly. "You think I'm wrong to send
it."

"I should think it would be hard enough to send it when they had
something on you, let alone when they were only bluffing."

"It is hard," whimpered the other. "I think it's a bluff myself. But
suppose it isn't and the story is printed. What would I say to Maud?
How could I face her?"

"It's for you to decide," said Evan.

George Deaves rapped on his desk, bit his fingers, looked out of the
window, got up and sat down again. Finally he said tremulously: "Very
well, I'll take a chance."

With what anxiety they awaited the appearance of the _Clarion_ may be
guessed. Simeon Deaves and Evan started out immediately after lunch to
get a copy. The old man wanted to go direct to the publishing office
to get it damp from the press, but Evan persuaded him it would never do
to betray so much anxiety in the matter. The _Clarion_ office might be
watched. Indeed it was not unlikely the gang had an agent there.

They found that none of the newsstands in the vicinity of the plaza
carried the _Clarion_: "a socialistic rag" it was called in that
neighbourhood. They had to walk all the way to Third avenue to find a
dealer who would confess to handling it. It would be up at four he
said, so that they had an hour to kill, which old Simeon spent very
happily in the fish-market.

For the last fifteen minutes they hung around outside the newsstand
while the proprietor watched them suspiciously from inside his window.
When the newswagon drove up Simeon Deaves snatched a _Clarion_ from the
top of the pile. The newsdealer held out his hand for the two cents,
but it was ignored.

Evan got a copy for himself. Skimming over the headlines he failed to
find the name of Deaves and breathed more freely. A more careful
search column by column revealed not so much as a stick of type devoted
to Simeon Deaves. Evan and his employer looked at each other and
grinned.

The newsdealer demanded his two cents.

"Shan't need the paper now," said Simeon, calmly putting it down.

Evan averted an explosion by hastily paying for both copies.

On the way home the old man was in such an extraordinary good humour
that he actually bought Evan a five-cent cigar. Evan keeps it to this
day as a curiosity.

At home they found an ashy and shaken George Deaves wai