fail to do so he proceeded to elaborate.

"You must see the fun in a man trying to make a date with Anita
Flagg--just as if she were nobody!"

"I don't think," said Sam, "that was my idea." He waved his stick at a
passing taxi. "I'm late," he said. He abandoned Hollis on the sidewalk,
chuckling and grinning with delight, and unconscious of the mischief he
had made.

An hour later at the office, when Sam was waiting for an assignment, the
telephone boy hurried to him, his eyes lit with excitement.

"You're wanted on the 'phone," he commanded. His voice dropped to an
awed whisper. "Miss Anita Flagg wants to speak to you!"

The blood ran leaping to Sam's heart and face. Then he remembered that
this was not Sister Anne who wanted to speak to him, but a woman he had
never met.

"Say you can't find me," he directed. The boy gasped, fled, and returned
precipitately.

"The lady says she wants your telephone number--says she must have it."

"Tell her you don't know it; tell her it's against the rules--and hang
up."

Ten minutes later the telephone boy, in the strictest confidence, had
informed every member of the local staff that Anita Flagg--the rich,
the beautiful, the daring, the original of the Red Cross story of that
morning--had twice called up Sam Ward and by that young man had been
thrown down--and thrown hard!

That night Elliott, the managing editor, sent for Sam; and when Sam
entered his office he found also there Walsh, the foreign editor, with
whom he was acquainted only by sight.

Elliott introduced them and told Sam to be seated.

"Ward," he began abruptly, "I'm sorry to lose you, but you've got to go.
It's on account of that story of this morning."

Sam made no sign, but he was deeply hurt. From a paper he had served
so loyally this seemed scurvy treatment. It struck him also that,
considering the spirit in which the story had been written, it was
causing him more kinds of trouble than was quite fair. The loss of
position did not disturb him. In the last month too many managing
editors had tried to steal him from the REPUBLIC for him to feel anxious
as to the future. So he accepted his dismissal calmly, and could say
without resentment:

"Last night I thought you liked the story, sir?

"I did," returned Elliott; "I liked it so much that I'm sending you to
a bigger place, where you can get bigger stories. We want you to act as
our special correspondent in London. Mr. Walsh will explain the work;