either that a small town editor might dare to
"come back." The impossible had actually happened.

I think it was this slackening of his power which alarmed Inglesby
into action.

"Mr. Inglesby," said the Butterfly Man to me one night, casually, "has
got him a new private secretary. He came this afternoon. His name's
Hunter--J. Howard Hunter. He dresses as if he wrote checks for a
living and he looks exactly like he dresses. Honest, he's the original
he-god they use to advertise suspenders and collars and neverrips and
that sort of thing in the classy magazines. I bet you Inglesby's got
to fork over a man-sized bucket of dough per, to keep _him_. There'll
be a flutter of calico in this burg from now on, for that fellow
certainly knows how to wear his face. He's gilt-edged from start to
finish!"

Laurence, lounging on the steps, looked up with a smile.

"His arrival," said he, "has been duly chronicled in to-day's press.
Cease speaking in parables, Bughunter, and tell us what's on your
mind."

The Butterfly Man hesitated for a moment. Then:

"Why, it's this way," said he, slowly. "I--hear things. A bit here and
there, you see, as folks tell me. I put what I've heard together, and
think it over. Of course I didn't need anybody to tell me Inglesby was
sore because the _Clarion_ got away from him. He expected it to die.
It didn't. He thought it wouldn't pay expenses--well, the sheriff
isn't in charge yet. And he knows the paper is growing. He's too wise
a guy to let on he's been stung for fair, once in his life, but he
don't propose to let himself in for any more body blows than he can
help. So he looks about a bit and he gets him an agent--older than
you, Mayne, but young enough, too--and even better looking. That agent
will be everywhere pretty soon. The town will fall for him. Say, how
many of you folks know what Inglesby really wants, anyhow?"

"Everything in sight," said Laurence promptly.

"And something around the corner, too. He wants to come out in the
open and be IT. He intends to be a big noise in Washington. Gentlemen,
Senator Inglesby! Well, why not?"

"He hasn't said so, has he?" Laurence was skeptical.

"He doesn't have to say so. He means to be it, and that's very much
more to the point. However, it happens that he did peep, once or
twice, and it buzzed about a bit--and that's how I happened to catch
it in my net. This Johnny he's just got to help him is the first move.
Private Secretary now. Ca