d for the under dog as against the upper
dog. It certainly won't tie up to the Socialist Party or advocate its
principles. It's for fair play and education."

"What's your purpose?" demanded Banneker. "Money?"

"I've a very comfortable income," replied Marrineal modestly.

"Political advancement? Influence? Want to pull the wires?" persisted
the other.

"The game. I'm out of employment and tired of it."

"And you think I could be of use in your plan? But you don't know much
about me."

Marrineal murmured smilingly something indefinite but complimentary as
to Banneker's reputation on Park Row; but this was by no means a fair
index to what he knew about Banneker.

Indeed, that prematurely successful reporter would have been surprised
at the extent to which Marrineal's private investigations had gone. Not
only was the purchaser of The Patriot apprised of Banneker's
professional career in detail, but he knew of his former employment, and
also of his membership in The Retreat, which he regarded with perplexity
and admiration. Marrineal was skilled at ascertainments. He made a
specialty of knowing all about people.

"With Mr. Edmonds on roving commission and you to handle the big local
stuff," he pursued, "we should have the nucleus of a news organization.
Like him, you would be responsible to me alone. And, of course, it would
be made worth your while. What do you think? Will you join us?"

"No."

"No?" There was no slightest hint of disappointment, surprise, or
resentment in Marrineal's manner. "Do you mind giving me the reason?"

"I don't care to be a reporter on The Patriot."

"Well, this would hardly be reporting. At least, a very specialized and
important type."

"For that matter, I don't care to be a reporter on any paper much
longer. Besides, you need me--or some one--in another department more
than in the news section."

"You don't like the editorials," was the inference which Marrineal drew
from this, and correctly.

"I think they're solemn flapdoodle."

"So do I. Occasionally I write them myself and send them in quietly. It
isn't known yet that I own the property; so I don't appear at the
office. Mine are quite as solemn and flapdoodlish as the others. To
which quality do you object the most?"

"Solemnity. It's the blight of editorial expression. All the papers
suffer from it."

"Then you wouldn't have the editorial page modeled on that of any of our
contemporaries."

"No. I'd try to make