mit that the prospect of his starving to death is a lovely one to
contemplate. And I'd die happy, I think, if I could see The Red
trimmed, and trimmed with conscientious thoroughness. But those
aren't my reasons for going hands with you in this assassination.

"I know a hunch when I see one. I ought to, for I've spent the
contents of my little yellow envelope often enough trying to make one
come true. And I'm in with you, Flash, till the returns are all in
from the last district, but it's because I know that there is
something more than either of us dream of behind that boy's wanting to
meet Conway. He has something on his mind; he wants something, and
wants it real bad. And I like him--I liked him right from the
beginning--so I'll stick around and help. Maybe I'll find out what it
is that's been bothering him, too, before I get through. But I wish I
wasn't of such an inquiring turn of mind. It keeps one too stirred
up."

He stopped to grin comically.

"Any objection, now that I've sworn allegiance, Flash, if I go out and
present myself?"

Hogarty's whole tense body began to relax, his lean face softened and
his eyes lost much of their hardness and glitter as he shook his head
in negation.

"That's a little detail of the campaign which I had already assigned
to you," he replied, and the inflection of his voice was perfect. "Not
that I have any fears of his going the way of his forefathers,
however, because I haven't. And if my assurance on that point
perplexes you, you might ask him to have one drink and watch his eyes
when he refuses you.

"But I would like to have you look out for him for a while. If you
don't Ogden will--Ogden likes him, too--and he is too frivolous to be
trusted."

Hogarty reached out one long arm and dropped a hand heavily upon
Morehouse's shoulder. He was smiling openly now--smiling with a
barefaced enjoyment which the plump newspaper man had never before
known him to exhibit. And he continued to smile, while he stood there
in the open door and watched Morehouse mince on tiptoe across the
polished floor to the corner where Ogden was officiously presenting
each member of the Monday morning squad of regulars, as they returned
from the dressing-rooms, to the big-shouldered boy in black, whose
face was so very grave.

Hogarty smiled as he closed his office door, after he had seen
Morehouse slip his hand through the crook of Young Denny's arm, in
spite of Bobby Ogden's yelp of protest, and