it. The old Southern city was described, and the
opinions of its residents in regard to the case given. It was
there--clear, interesting, and strong. One could see it all as if every
phase of it were being enacted before one's eyes. Skaggs surpassed
himself.

When the editor first got hold of it he said "Huh!" over the opening
lines,--a few short sentences that instantly pricked the attention
awake. He read on with increasing interest. "This is good stuff," he
said at the last page. "Here 's a chance for the _Universe_ to look into
the methods of Southern court proceedings. Here 's a chance for a
spread."

The _Universe_ had always claimed to be the friend of all poor and
oppressed humanity, and every once in a while it did something to
substantiate its claim, whereupon it stood off and said to the public,
"Look you what we have done, and behold how great we are, the friend of
the people!" The _Universe_ was yellow. It was very so. But it had power
and keenness and energy. It never lost an opportunity to crow, and if
one was not forthcoming, it made one. In this way it managed to do a
considerable amount of good, and its yellowness became forgivable, even
commendable. In Skaggs's story the editor saw an opportunity for one of
its periodical philanthropies. He seized upon it. With headlines that
took half a page, and with cuts authentic and otherwise, the tale was
told, and the people of New York were greeted next morning with the
announcement of--

"A Burning Shame!

A Poor and Innocent Negro made to Suffer

for a Rich Man's Crime!

Great Expose by the 'Universe'!

A 'Universe' Reporter To the Rescue!

The Whole Thing to Be Aired that the

People may Know!"

Then Skaggs received a telegram that made him leap for joy. He was to do
it. He was to go to the capital of the State. He was to beard the
Governor in his den, and he, with the force of a great paper behind him,
was to demand for the people the release of an innocent man. Then there
would be another write-up and much glory for him and more shekels. In an
hour after he had received his telegram he was on his way to the
Southern capital.

* * * * *

Meanwhile in the house of Maurice Oakley there were sad times. From the
moment that the master of the house had fallen to the floor in impotent
fear and madness t