wo letters was
not the same.

Groping for some aid in the murk, Io went to the telephone and called up
the editorial office of The Sphere, asking for Russell Edmonds. Within
two hours the veteran had come to her.

"I have been wanting to see you," he said at once.

"About Mr. Banneker?" she queried eagerly.

"No. About The Searchlight."

"The Searchlight? I don't understand, Mr. Edmonds."

"Can't we be open with each other, Mrs. Eyre?"

"Absolutely, so far as I am concerned."

"Then I want to tell you that you need have no fear as to what The
Searchlight may do."

"Still I don't understand. Why should I fear it?"

"The scandal--manufactured, of course--which The Searchlight had cooked
up about you and Mr. Banneker before Mr. Eyre's death."

"Surely there was never anything published. I should have heard of it."

"No; there wasn't. Banneker stopped it."

"Ban?"

"Do you mean to say that you knew nothing of this, Mrs. Eyre?" he said,
the wonder in his face answering the bewilderment in hers. "Didn't
Banneker tell you?"

"Never a word."

"No; I suppose he wouldn't," ruminated the veteran. "That would be like
Ban--the old Ban," he added sadly. "Mrs. Eyre, I loved that boy," he
broke out, his stern and somber face working. "There are times even now
when I can scarcely make myself believe that he did what he did."

"Wait," pleaded Io. "How did he stop The Searchlight?"

"By threatening Bussey with an expose that would have blown him out of
the water. Blackmail, if you like, Mrs. Eyre, and not of the most polite
kind."

"For me," whispered Io.

"He held that old carrion-buzzard, Bussey, up at the muzzle of The
Patriot as if it were a blunderbuss. It was loaded to kill, too. And
then," pursued Edmonds, "he paid the price. Marrineal got out his little
gun and held him up."

"Held Ban up? What for? How could he do that? All this is a riddle to
me, Mr. Edmonds."

"Do you think you really want to know?" asked the other with a touch of
grimness. "It won't be pleasant hearing."

"I've got to know. Everything!"

"Very well. Here's the situation. Banneker points his gun, The Patriot,
at Bussey. 'Be good or I'll shoot,' he says. Marrineal learns of it,
never mind how. He points _his_ gun at Ban. 'Be good, or I'll shoot,'
says he. And there you are!"

"But what was his gun? And why need he threaten Ban?"

"Why, you see, Mrs. Eyre, about that time things were coming to an issue
between Ban and Marrineal