he
Guardian was at once apparent. Representing, as the Osgood office did,
a number of Conference companies, three of which it had represented
almost as long as the Guardian, Mr. Osgood would have no practical
choice. It was a case of one against the rest--and naturally the one
would fall. Of all this, however, Mr. Osgood himself knew nothing as
yet, save for the vague menace conveyed by O'Connor's valedictory
address. Of this also the Boston insurance fraternity at large knew
almost nothing, for the matter was to be jammed through the Board, and
those behind it were sworn to secrecy.

Outside the inner ring who were back of the move, only one man in
Boston caught wind of the matter which now only waited the coming of
Wednesday to take its place among the rules of the Boston Board. This
man was Mr. Francis Hancher of the Boston _Index_, the most alert
insurance-news gatherer of New England. If anything of moment went on
in the insurance world that centers in Boston, without coming under the
attention of the inquisitive Mr. Hancher, it had to wear felt slippers
and move about only at night. He had as unerring an instinct for
insurance news as any ward boss for graft, and he was a man of humanity
and bonhomie besides. Into his ears came the first faint rumors of
things astir, and he began to work on the almost impalpable scent.
Silently he worked, craftily, without arousing suspicion in the minds
of those he questioned. Bit by bit, fragment by fragment, he gathered
the makings of a Story, until at last, on the Saturday morning before
the fateful Wednesday, he happened into the office of Silas Osgood and
gained the last link in his chain.

"What's new?" was his greeting to Mr. Osgood.

"Could there be anything new that you do not know?" replied the other,
with a smile.

"I see O'Connor's in town," said Hancher, abruptly, and his interest
quickened when he saw the sudden change of Mr. Osgood's expression.
"You've seen him, I suppose?" the journalist pursued nonchalantly.

"Yes," Mr. Osgood rather stiffly admitted.

Mr. Hancher took a sudden resolution. He drew up his chair a little
closer, and leaned forward.

"I think you'd better tell me what he's here for--all you know about
it," he said bluntly. "You know me--I won't use what you tell me
unless I have your permission. And I've got an idea that you ought to
know what's going on."

"I would very greatly prefer that it should not become common
knowled