youngness," he admitted, with a
smile. "Perhaps there are other ways of getting at this thing. Just for
a test,--for the last time will you or will you not, Mr. Sterne, publish
this apology?"

"We will not. There's just one person can give me orders."

"Who is that?"

"The owner."

"I think you'll be sorry."

McGuire Ellis turned upon him a look that was a silent reproach to
immaturity.

"Anything more?" queried Sterne. "Nothing," said Hal, with an effort at
courtesy. "Good-day to you both."

"Well, what about it?" asked McGuire Ellis of his chief, as the
visitor's footsteps died away.

"Nothing about it. When'll the next Surtaine roast be ready?"

"Ought to be finished to-morrow."

"Schedule it for Thursday. We'll make the old boy squeal yet. Do you
believe the boy when he says that his father didn't send him?"

"Sounded straight. Pretty straight boy he looked like to me, anyway."

"Pretty fresh kid, _I_ think. And a good deal of a pin-head.
Distributing agency for the old man's money, I guess. He won't get
anywhere."

"Well, I'm not so sure," said Ellis contemplatively. "Of course he acts
gosh-awful young. But did you notice him when he went?"

"Not particularly."

"He was smiling."

"Well?"

"Always look out for a guy that smiles when he's licked. He's got a
come-back to him."

Eleven o'clock that night saw McGuire Ellis lift his head from the
five-minute nap which he allowed himself on evenings of light pressure
after the Washington copy was run off, and blink rapidly. At the same
moment Mr. David Sterne gave utterance to an exclamation, partly of
annoyance, partly of surprise. Mr. Harrington Surtaine, wearing an
expression both businesslike and urbane stood in the doorway.

"Good-evening, gentlemen," he remarked.

Mr. Sterne snorted. Mr. Ellis's lips seemed about to form the
reproachful monosyllable "young." Without further greeting the visitor
took off his hat and overcoat and hung them on a peg. "You make
yourself at home," growled Sterne.

"I do," agreed Hal, and, discarding his coat, hung that on another peg.
"I've got a right to."

Tilting a slumber-burdened head, McGuire Ellis released his adjuration
against youthfulness.

"What's the answer?" demanded Sterne.

"I've just bought out the 'Clarion,'" said Hal.

CHAPTER VII

THE OWNER

Some degree of triumph would perhaps have been excusable in the new
owner. Most signally had he turned the tables on his enemies. Y