inform you that Mr. Paulding has reconsidered his offer to
take you back into favor. He has decided not to do so, and desires
you to understand that no change will be made in the relations
existing between you and him."

Ide's trembling suddenly ceased. The color came back to his face,
and he straightened his back. His jaw went forward half an inch,
and a gleam came into his eye. He pushed back his battered hat with
one hand, and extended the other, with levelled fingers, toward the
lawyer. He took a long breath and then laughed sardonically.

"Tell old Paulding he may go to the devil," he said, loudly and
clearly, and turned and walked out of the office with a firm and
lively step.

Lawyer Mead turned on his heel to Vallance and smiled.

"I am glad you came in," he said, genially. "Your uncle wants you to
return home at once. He is reconciled to the situation that led to
his hasty action, and desires to say that all will be as--"

"Hey, Adams!" cried Lawyer Mead, breaking his sentence, and calling
to his clerk. "Bring a glass of water--Mr. Vallance has fainted."

XII

THE PLUTONIAN FIRE

There are a few editor men with whom I am privileged to come in
contact. It has not been long since it was their habit to come in
contact with me. There is a difference.

They tell me that with a large number of the manuscripts that are
submitted to them come advices (in the way of a boost) from the
author asseverating that the incidents in the story are true. The
destination of such contributions depends wholly upon the question of
the enclosure of stamps. Some are returned, the rest are thrown on
the floor in a corner on top of a pair of gum shoes, an overturned
statuette of the Winged Victory, and a pile of old magazines
containing a picture of the editor in the act of reading the latest
copy of _Le Petit Journal_, right side up--you can tell by the
illustrations. It is only a legend that there are waste baskets in
editors' offices.

Thus is truth held in disrepute. But in time truth and science and
nature will adapt themselves to art. Things will happen logically,
and the villain be discomfited instead of being elected to the board
of directors. But in the meantime fiction must not only be divorced
from fact, but must pay alimony and be awarded custody of the press
despatches.

This preamble is to warn you off the grade crossing of a true story.
Being that, it shall be told simply, with conjunctions substitut