rst and last time in its history) had
defeated Knype by one goal to none. Mr Myson was proud. Mr Myson defied
the _Signal_ to beat his descriptive report. As for the
_Signal's_ procession--well, Mr Myson and the chief sub-editor of
the _Daily_ glanced at each other and smiled.

And a few minutes later the _Daily_ boys were rushing out of the
publishing room with bundles of papers--assuredly in advance of the
_Signal_.

It was at this juncture that the unexpected began to occur to the
_Daily_ boys. The publishing door of the _Daily_ opened into
Stanway Rents, a narrow alley in a maze of mean streets behind Crown
Square. In Stanway Rents was a small warehouse in which, according to
rumours of the afternoon, a free soup kitchen was to be opened. And just
before the football edition of the _Daily_ came off the Marinoni,
it emphatically was opened, and there issued from its inviting gate an
odour--not, to be sure, of soup, but of toasted cheese and hot jam--such
an odour as had never before tempted the nostrils of a _Daily_ boy;
a unique and omnipotent odour. Several boys (who, I may state frankly,
were traitors to the _Daily_ cause, spies and mischief-makers from
elsewhere) raced unhesitatingly in, crying that toasted cheese
sandwiches and jam tarts were to be distributed like lightning to all
authentic newspaper lads.

The entire gang followed--scores, over a hundred--inwardly expecting to
emerge instantly with teeth fully employed, followed like sheep into a
fold.

And the gate was shut.

Toasted cheese and hot jammy pastry were faithfully served to the ragged
host--but with no breathless haste. And when, loaded, the boys struggled
to depart, they were instructed by the kind philanthropist who had fed
them to depart by another exit, and they discovered themselves In an
enclosed yard, of which the double doors were apparently unyielding. And
the warehouse door was shut also. And as the cheese and jam disappeared,
shouts of fury arose on the air. The yard was so close to the offices of
the _Daily_ that the chimneypots of those offices could actually be
seen. And yet the shouting brought no answer from the lords of the
_Daily_, congratulating themselves up there on their fine account
of the football match, and on their celerity in going to press and on
the loyalty of their brigade.

The _Signal_, it need not be said, disavowed complicity in this
extraordinary entrapping of the _Daily_ brigade by means of an
odour. C