ore whom I can see a
future so brilliant that you need smoked glasses to look at it very long
at a time."
The gallant young detective turned from the window.
"The hour has come to strike our blow," he remarked, his brow
contracting to a scowl that boded no good to a certain upright citizen
of this great republic.
"I have thought it best," resumed Solon, "to take Potts into our
confidence at precisely this stage--giving him this exclusive news one
day in advance of its publication. To-morrow, when every one knows it,
Potts might be rash enough to stay and brave it out. Being advised
to-day, privately, and thus afforded a chance to fade gracefully into
the great bounding West, he may use his common sense. Now then, officer,
do your duty!"
Our hero arose from his chair, buttoned his coat, passed a hand
caressingly over his hip pocket, took the proof from me, and stalked
grimly out.
"So the lady is really coming?" I asked, as Billy's footsteps died away
down the wooden stairs.
"She is, the lady and her little son," said Solon, resuming his walk up
and down the room. "She is coming all the way from Boston,
Massachusetts. And I don't believe she quite knows what she's coming to.
She speaks in a strange manner of her hope that she may be able to do
good among us, and in her last letter she wants to know if I have ever
seen a little book called 'One Hundred Common Errors in Speaking and
Writing.' She seems to have the missionary instinct, as nearly as I can
judge."
He paused in his walk and lowered his voice impressively.
"Between you and me, Cal,--you know I've had about six letters from
her,--it's just possible that Potts had his reasons. I don't _say_ he
did, mind you,--but strange things happen in this world.
"But that's neither here nor there," he went on more lightly. "Potts has
brought it on himself."
In silence, then, we awaited the return of the messenger. The moment was
tensely electric when at last we heard the clatter of his boots on the
stairway. Breathless, he entered and stood before us, his coolness for
once destroyed under the strain of his adventure. Solon helped him to a
chair with soothing words.
"Take it easy now, Billy! Get your breath--there--that's good! Now tell
us all about it--just what you said and just what he said and just what
talk there was back and forth."
"Gosh-all-Hemlock!" spluttered Billy, not yet equal to his best
narrative style.
We waited. He drew a dozen l
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