layed, soul and body, the petty cheat with a high and ennobling
passion. Yet, because she played within the rules by the world's
measure, there was no stain upon her honor. By that same measure, what
of Milly Neal? In her was no trickery of sex; only the ungrudging,
wide-armed offer of all her womanhood, reckless of aught else but love.
Debating within himself the phrase, "an honest woman," Hal laughed
aloud. His laughter lacked much of being mirthful, and something of
being just. For he had reckoned two daughters of Eve by the same
standard, which is perhaps the oldest and most disastrous error
hereditary to all the sons of Adam.

CHAPTER XXI

THE POWER OF PRINT

Hal paid thirty-two thousand dollars for the new press. It was a
delicate giant of mechanism, able not only to act, but also to think
with stupendous accuracy and swiftness; lacking only articulate speech
to be wholly superhuman. But in signing the check for it, Hal, for the
first time in his luxurious life experienced a financial qualm. Always
before there had been an inexhaustible source wherefrom to draw. Now
that he had issued his declaration of pecuniary independence, he began
to appreciate the perishable nature of money. He came back from his
week's journey to New York feeling distinctly poorer.

Moreover there was an uncomfortable paradox connected with his purchase.
That he should be put to so severe an expenditure merely for the purpose
of incurring an increased current expense, struck him as a rather
sardonic joke. Yet so it was. Circulation does not mean direct profit to
a newspaper. On the contrary, it implies loss in many cases. For some
weeks it had been costing the "Clarion," to print the extra papers
necessitated by the increased demand, more than the money received from
their sale. Until the status of the journal should justify a higher
advertising charge, every added paper sold would involve a loss. True,
an augmented circulation logically commands a higher advertising rate;
it is thus that a newspaper reaps its harvest; and soon Hal hoped to be
able to raise his advertising rate from fifteen to twenty-five cents a
line. At that return his books would show a profit on a normal volume of
advertising. Meantime he performed an act of involuntary philanthropy
with every increase of issue, Nevertheless, Hal felt for his mechanical
giant something of the new-toy thrill. To him it was a symbol of
productive power. It made appeal to his i