here. But I suppose you
would rather send me to the penitentiary."

Lyman sat down. "When I left my office," said he, "I was angry enough
to kill you, but now you appear so contemptible that I am sorry for
you."

"And I feel as contemptible as I look."

"I don't think that is quite possible. If you felt as contemptible as
you look you'd blow your brains out." He got up and stood looking at
Caruthers. He put his hand to his forehead as if a troublesome thought
were passing through his mind. "Now that I am here I don't know what
to do," said he. "I know that you ought to be punished, but my old
weakness comes upon me and I falter." Caruthers brightened and Lyman
looked like an abashed criminal.

"Lyman," said Caruthers, "if you have any mercy left, let me throw
myself upon it. I know that there ought to be an end to your
forgiveness, but why should you draw the line at me?"

"I am a fool," said Lyman, "and it makes me blush to know that I can't
hide it from you. But you are so contemptible that I haven't the heart
to punish you."

He tore the note into bits and turned toward the door, with his head
hung low. He thought that he heard something and looking back he
caught Caruthers laughing at him. His head went up; a strange light
drove the gentleness out of his eyes.

"Ah, you laugh at my weakness. A moment ago I didn't know what to do.
Now I know."

He sprang at Caruthers and seized him by the collar--he shoved him
back and struck him in the mouth--he jerked him to his knees, threw
him upon the floor and kicked him. The cries of the wretch brought a
crowd to the door. A constable rushed in. "Get away," Lyman commanded.
"He belongs to me."

"But you don't want to kill him," the officer replied. "Look, you have
knocked his teeth out."

"So I have. Well, you may have him now."

Warren sat in the office, smoking. "Why, what's the matter?" he asked,
as Lyman entered. "I'll bet you've got another piece of news to
suppress."

"No, I haven't--we'll give it two columns. I knocked Brother
Caruthers' teeth out and I'm glad of it."

"Good!" Warren cried. And then he called the office boy. "Tom, wet
down two hundred extra copies for the next edition. Oh, Samuel, you
are coming on first rate. What did he do?"

"He laughed at my weakness."

"Glad of it. Oh, we are prospering. Make a piece of news out of it,
and don't think about yourself. Write it in the third. Talk
about hard times when things come this way! Why,