evidently gave
Mellish the tip."

"I don't think so," said Thompson. "We will say nothing about it."

"You forget yourself, Mr. Thompson. It rests with me to say what
shall go on the local page. Not with you."

"I don't forget myself," answered Thompson sadly; "I've just remembered
myself. The Directors of the Argus appointed me local editor yesterday.
Didn't they tell you about it? That's just like them. They forgot to
mention the fact to Corbin that he had been superseded and the
manager went off fishing after appointing Jonsey local editor, so
that for a week we had two local editors, each one countermanding
the orders of the other. It was an awful week. You remember it,
Murren?" Murren's groan seemed to indicate that his recollection of
the exciting time was not a pleasant memory.

"In case of doubt," murmured the religious editor, this time without
removing his corn-cob, "obey the orders of the new man where the
Argus is concerned. Thompson, old man, I'm wid you. When did the
blow fall?"

"Yesterday afternoon," said Thompson, almost with a sob; "I'll be
dismissed within a month, so I am rather sorry. I liked working
on the Argus--as a reporter. I never looked for such ill luck
as promotion. But we all have our troubles, haven't we, Mac?"

McCrasky did not answer. He is now connected with some paper
in Texas.

STRIKING BACK.

George Streeter was in Paris, because he hoped and expected to meet
Alfred Davison there. He knew that Davison was going to be in Paris for
at least a fortnight, and he had a particular reason for wishing to
come across him in the streets of that city rather than in the streets
of London.

Streeter was a young author who had published several books, and who
was getting along as well as could be expected, until suddenly he met a
check. The check was only a check as far as his own self-esteem was
concerned; for it did not in the least retard the sale of his latest
book, but rather appeared to increase it. The check was unexpected, for
where he had looked for a caress, he received a blow. The blow was so
well placed, and so vigorous, that at first it stunned him. Then he
became unreasonably angry. He resolved to strike back.

The review of his book in the Argus was vigorously severe, and perhaps
what maddened him more than anything else was the fact that, in spite
of his self-esteem he realized the truth of the criticism. If his books
had been less successful, or if he had b