," suggested Jones. "Could I see
them?"

"Both out," she answered shortly. "And I don't believe you could get
the room from them, for they're all fixed up to take photographs of the
parade."

"Indee-ee-eed," drawled Average Jones, in accents so prolonged, even for
him, that Waldemar's interest flamed within him. "I--er--ra--ra-aather
hoped--er--when do you expect them back?"

"About four o'clock."

"Thank you. Please tell them that--er--Mr. Nick Karboe called."

"For heaven's sake, Average," rumbled Waldemar, as they regained the
pavement, "why did you use the dead man's name? It gave me a shiver."

"It'll give them a worse one," replied the Ad-Visor grimly. "I want to
prepare their nerves for a subsequent shock. If you'll meet me here this
evening at seven, I think I can promise you a queer spectacle."

"And meantime?"

"On that point I want your advice. Shall we make a sure catch of two
hired assassins who don't amount to much, or take a chance at the bigger
game?"

"Meaning Morrison?"

"Meaning Morrison. Incidentally, if we get him we'll be able to kill the
Personal Liberty bill so dead it will never raise its head again."

"Then I'm for that course," decided the editor, after a little
consideration, "though I can't yet make myself believe that Carroll
Morrison is party to a deliberate murder plot."

"How the normal mind does shrink from connecting crime with good clothes
and a social position!" remarked the Ad-Visor. "Just give me a moment's
time."

The moment he spent jotting down words on a bit of paper, which, after
some emendation, he put away.

"That'll do for a heading," he remarked. "Now, Waldemar, I want you to
get the governor on the 'phone and tell him, if he'll follow directions,
we'll put the personal liberty bill where the wicked cease from
troubling. Morrison is to be in the reviewing stand, isn't he?"

"Yes; there's a special place reserved for him, next the press seats."

"Good! By the way, you'd better send for two press seats for you and
myself. Now, what I want: the governor to do is this: get a copy of the
Harrisonia Evening Bell, fold it to an advertisement headed 'Offer to
Photographers,' and as he passes Carroll Morrison on the stand, hold
it up and say to him just this: 'Better luck next time.' For anything
further, I'll see you in the reviewing stand. Do you think he'll do it?"

"It sounds as foolish as a college initiation stunt. Still, you heard
what Governor Arthur s