tell you what he wants--to get right away from here, and fight the
world alone," said Denis.

"You and I," cried Cairns, "are the men to found a new party with a new
Australian policy. Mere parochialism must go, sir, if Australia is to
have a destiny. I have my eye upon Desmond as a disciple."

"Don't hurry, Cairns. Reform Grey Town first, then turn your mind to
Australia. There is plenty to be done here. Have you prepared that
article on the municipal omissions?"

Cairns handed a proof to Denis Quirk, and the latter ran his eye over
it.

"Good!" he cried, approvingly. "Slash it into them! 'Too much of a hole
and corner system.' 'Too many surprises sprung upon a too-confiding
public.' That's the way to make things hum. I must give Wilde a retainer
to defend us in our libel actions. I see them coming, Cairns. To-morrow
rake it into Ebenezer Brown for the state of his premises in Chester
Street; on Saturday draw attention to the insanitary condition of the
best residential part of the town. Keep things moving, and we will make
Grey Town a live community. Then we will turn our attention to
Australia."

Now, the first sporting editor of "The Mercury" was a handsome man,
clean-shaven and well-dressed, who presented himself to Denis Quirk in
answer to an advertisement in a Melbourne paper.

"Mr. James Gerard," read Cairns from the card that Tim O'Neill handed to
him that morning. "Have you any idea who Mr. Gerard is?"

"He says he's 'Trafalgar,' sir; not the battle, sir, but the horse. I
fancy he's dotty, Mr. Cairns; he looks more like a donkey than a horse."

"Show him in to Mr. Quirk; I have no time for lunatics," said Cairns.

Mr. James Gerard was accordingly shown into the managers' room. Denis
Quirk was at the moment preparing a speech, for he had already decided
to contest a vacancy on the council. He received his visitor abruptly.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I am 'Trafalgar;' perhaps you have heard of me," said the newcomer.

"Never!" replied Denis.

"Hem! I thought you might have seen my nom de plume in the 'Sporting
Chronicle.'"

"Never heard of it. What do you want?"

"You advertised for a sporting editor. I have come after the place."

"Do you know anything about horses?" asked Denis.

"No one better; I have studied them all my life," replied Gerard.

"That doesn't say you can write about them. How much do you ask?"

"Salary is no object to me. Racing is my hobby. I have an income of my