vered brow and bring wine jelly to your tenement."

"Aren't you afraid of contagious diseases?" he asked anxiously. "Such
places are always full of them."

"Oh, they placard for contagion. It's safe enough. And I'm really
interested. It's my only excuse to myself for living."

"If bringing happiness wherever you go isn't enough--"

"No! No!" She smiled up into his eyes. "This is still a business visit.
But you may take me to my car."

On his way back Hal stopped to tell Wayne that perhaps the Pierce story
wasn't worth running, after all. Unease of conscience disturbed his work
for a time thereafter. He appeased it by the excuse that it was no
threat or pressure from without which had influenced his action. He had
killed the item out of consideration for the friend of his friend. What
did it matter, anyway, a bit of news like that? Who was harmed by
leaving it out? As yet he was too little the journalist to comprehend
that the influences which corrupt the news are likely to be dangerous in
proportion as they are subtle.

Wayne understood better, and smiled with a cynical wryness of mouth upon
McGuire Ellis, who, having passed Hal and Esme on the stairs, had
lingered at the city desk and heard the editor-in-chief's half-hearted
order.

"Still worrying about Dr. Surtaine's influence over the paper?" asked
the city editor, after Hal's departure.

"Yes," said Ellis.

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"Did you happen to notice about the prettiest thing that ever used eyes
for weapons, in the hall?"

"Something of that description."

"Let me present you, in advance, to Miss Esme Elliot, the new boss of
our new boss," said Wayne, with a flourish.

"God save the Irish!" said McGuire Ellis.

CHAPTER XIII

NEW BLOOD

Echoes of the Talk-it-Over Breakfast rang briskly in the "Clarion"
office. It was suggested to Hal that the success of the function
warranted its being established as a regular feature of the shop. Later
this was done. One of the participants, however, was very ill-pleased
with the morning's entertainment. Dr. Surtaine saw, in retrospect and in
prospect, his son being led astray into various radical and harebrained
vagaries of journalism. None of those at the breakfast had foreseen more
clearly than the wise and sharpened quack what serious difficulties
beset the course which Hal had laid out for himself.

Trouble was what Dr. Surtaine hated above all things. Whatever taste for
the adventurous he