e of beer.

"Well," he said, "now that you are here, what can I do for you,
Mr.----"

"Spencer--Charles K. Spencer."

Instantly it struck the younger man that little more than an hour
had elapsed since he gave his name to the letter clerk in the hotel.
The singularity of his proceedings during that hour was thereby
brought home to him. He knew nothing of newspapers, daily or weekly;
but commonsense suggested that "The Firefly's" radiance was not
over-powering. His native shrewdness advised caution, though he felt
sure that he could, in homely phrase, twist this faded journalist
round his little finger.

"Before I open the ball," he said, "may I see a copy of your
magazine?"

Meanwhile the other was trying to sum him up. He came to the
conclusion that his visitor meant to introduce some new advertising
scheme, and, as "The Firefly" was sorely in need of advertisements,
he decided to listen.

"Here is last week's issue," he said, handing to Spencer a small
sixteen-page publication. The American glanced through it rapidly,
while the editor sampled the beer.

"I see," said Spencer, after he had found a column signed "H. W.,"
which consisted of paragraphs translated from a German article on
airships,--"I see that 'The Firefly' scintillates around the Tree of
Knowledge."

The editor relaxed sufficiently to smile. "That is a good description
of its weekly flights," he said.

"You don't use many cuts?"

"N-no. They are expensive and hard to obtain for such subjects as we
favor."

"Don't you think it would be a good notion to brighten it up a
bit--put in something lively, and more in keeping with the name?"

"I have no opening for new matter, if that is what you mean," and the
editor stiffened again.

"But you have the say-so as to the contents, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes. The selection rests with me."

"Good. I'm sort of interested in a young lady, Miss Helen Wynton
by name. She lives in Warburton Gardens, and does work for you
occasionally. Now, I propose to send her on a month's trip to
Switzerland, where she will represent 'The Firefly.' You must get her
to turn out a couple of pages of readable stuff each week, which you
will have illustrated by a smart artist at a cost of say, twenty
pounds an article for drawings and blocks. I pay all expenses, she
gets the trip, and you secure some good copy for nothing. Is it a
deal?"

The editor sat down suddenly and combed his whiskers with nervous
fingers. He was