"Guess
you were the one who 'phoned, Jim?"

"Yes!" acknowledged Jim, becoming alert. And he wasted no time beating
about.

"You wish to know the name of the man who Union-Jacked your cayuse?"

"The name of the boundah who painted my mare!--you just jolly-well bet
your boots I do, sir!"

"Well,--I know it."

"Yes--yes!"

"Does your offer of a thousand dollars still hold good?"

"Till midnight, to-night;--certainly!"

"Good! Make out a cheque now and hand it over to Mr. Todd as umpire."

"Doesn't the word of DeRue Hannington bally-well suit everyone here?"
exclaimed the Englishman in a hurt tone.

"Sure!--but this is strictly business."

Hannington pulled out his cheque book, wrote out the cheque for one
thousand dollars payable to "cash" and handed it over to Ben Todd who
was eyeing the scene in undisguised interest; his keen mind already
fathoming the secret.

"There!" remarked Hannington. "Now, give me your information, my deah
Langford."

"If the man I name gets convicted, or if you fail to lay a charge
against him, the money comes to me? Do I get the arrangement right?"

"You have it absolutely, my careful Scotsman. Fire away! Fire away!"

"You got that, Mr. Todd?" queried Jim.

"Absolutely!" mocked the editor.

"Well, gentleman,--the name of the man who painted Mr. Percival DeRue
Hannington's mare is--James Langford, your most humble and obedient
servant, and very much at the service of both of you."

Ben Todd grunted.

The Englishman sat bolt upright. His chin dropped and he gaped, his
fingers running nervously up and down over the gilt metal buttons of
his fancy waistcoat. He rose slowly from his chair and his face grew
pale in his anger; then it became red and perspiry.

"You--you confounded scoundrel! You--you miserable individual!
You--you trickster!"

"Go on,--go on!" put in Jim coolly, "the more you call me down, the
better I like it. I'm a positive glutton for anathema. Mr. DeRue
Hannington simply eats up elocution,--eh, Ben!"

The editor smiled dryly. "He does, but he is finding some difficulty
in digesting some of yours, Jim, and I'm not surprised at it."

Jim held over the desk 'phone to Hannington.

"Better 'phone up for Palmer and get it over."

Hannington pushed the receiver away.

"I refuse,--I--I decline absolutely. I shan't prosecute,--damned if I
do! It is downright blackmail. Yes,--by gad! Give me back my cheque,
Mr. Todd, and let me go. I'm jolly-well sick of t