nd two or three hours
passed before its hold on his attention slackened. He seldom changed
his position; the volume was propped against others, and he sat bending
forward, his arms folded upon the desk. When he was thus deeply
engaged, his face had a hard, stern aspect; if by chance his eye
wandered for a moment, its look seemed to express resentment of
interruption.

At length he threw himself back with a sudden yielding to weariness,
crossed his legs, sank together in the chair, and for half-an-hour
brooded darkly. A fit of yawning admonished him that it was time to
quit the atmosphere of study. He betook himself to a restaurant in the
Strand, and thence about eight o'clock made his way to Staple Inn,
where the journalist gave him cheerful welcome.

'Day after day I have meant to write,' thus he excused himself. 'But I
had really nothing to say.'

'You don't look any better for your holiday,' Earwaker remarked.

'Holiday? Oh, I had forgotten all about it. When do _you_ go?'

'The situation is comical. I feel sure that if I leave town, my
connection with the _Post_ will come to an end. I shall have a note
from Runcorn saying that we had better take this opportunity of
terminating my engagement. On the whole I should be glad, yet I can't
make up my mind to be ousted by Kenyon--that's what it means. They want
to get me away, but I stick on, postponing holiday from week to week.
Runcorn can't decide to send me about my business, yet every leader I
write enrages him. But for Kenyon, I should gain my point; I feel sure
of it. It's one of those cases in which homicide would be justified by
public interest. If Kenyon gets my place, the paper becomes at once an
organ of ruffiandom, the delight of the blackguardry.'

'How's the circulation?' inquired Peak.

'Pretty sound; that adds to the joke. This series of stories by
Doubleday has helped us a good deal, and my contention is, if we can
keep financially right by help of this kind, why not make a little
sacrifice for the sake of raising our political tone? Runcorn won't see
it; he listens eagerly to Kenyon's assurance that we might sell several
thousand more by striking the true pot-house note.'

'Then pitch the thing over! Wash your hands, and go to cleaner work.'

'The work I am doing is clean enough,' replied Earwaker. 'Let me have
my way, and I can make the paper a decent one and a useful one. I
shan't easily find another such chance.'

'Your idealism has a stro