icy of the paper. It would be a pretty
serious matter to run up against those fellows. Mr. Lewis, the old man,
is out, but when he comes back we'll go and have a talk with him."

"Talk to him! I should think so!" Dick exclaimed, and he began to pace
the room and pour out the floods of his information, in wrath of soul
and glow of spirits at his resolve to clean things up.

Meanwhile in Miss Huntress' office, farther down the hall, Lena was
discussing with that determined person the possibility of supplying the
public with more of the kind of literature for which women, in
particular, are supposed to have a mad desire. Miss Huntress was an
adept at filling her page with personalities by which those who know
nobody may have almost as great a knowledge of the great as those who
have achieved the proud distinction of being "in it". Lena had written a
highly successful series of articles on "St. Etienne as seen from the
shop windows," and she longed for new and similar fields to conquer.

"I've been wondering," said Miss Huntress, "if you couldn't get up some
catchy little things on private libraries and picture galleries. If you
can raise some photographs to go with them, you might make quite a hit.
That's the kind of thing that takes. You see it makes people able to
talk about the inside of rich folk's houses."

"I suppose you would want me to begin with Mr. Early," said Lena, hardly
knowing what reply to make.

"Never mind Mr. Early. Everybody knows just what he's got and how his
place looks. You might include him later, but I should start with people
who are more exclusive and yet whose names everybody knows. Now there's
Mr. Windsor and Mrs. Percival. By the way, Mr. Norris is awfully
intimate at the Percivals'. Perhaps he'd help you to an introduction. If
Mrs. Percival would let you write up her library, you may be sure
there'd be a lot of others who would follow her example. You might try
it, anyway. Go and see her. Tell her what a hard time you are having to
earn your own living. Your looks will carry you a long way."

"I think young Mr. Percival is in Mr. Norris' office now. Some one came
in while I was there and I think he called him Percival," said Lena
faintly.

"Say! is that so?" exclaimed Miss Huntress. "Now's your chance! Go in
and ask while he's there. He'll find it hard to refuse to your face."

"You go," interposed Lena. "If I go, it will look as though I knew. But
you can walk in all innocent."

T