Three Sisters,
Last Chance, Alkali Spring Mines, all returning upwards of 25 per cent
per annum: and immediately adjacent is the famous Strike-for-the-West
property which enriches its fortunate stockholders to the tune of 75 per
cent a year!' Are you on the same range as the Strike-for-the-West, Mr.
McQuiggan?"

"It's an adjacent property," growled the mining man. "What d'you know
about copper?"

"Oh, I've seen a little mining, myself. And a bit of mining advertising.
That's quite an ad. of yours, McQuiggan."

"I wrote that ad.," said Dr. Surtaine blandly: "and I challenge anybody
to find a single misstatement in it."

"You're safe. There isn't any. And scarcely a single statement. But if
you wrote it, I suppose it goes."

"And the interview, too," rasped McQuiggan.

"It's usual," said Ellis to Hal. "The tail with the hide: the soul with
the body, when you're selling."

"But we're not selling interviews," said Hal uneasily.

"You're getting nearly a thousand dollars' worth of copy, and giving a
bonus that don't cost you anything," said his father. "The papers have
done it for me ever since I've been in business."

"I guess that's right, too," agreed Ellis.

"Why don't you take McQuiggan down to meet your Mr. Shearson, Hal?"
suggested the Doctor. "I'll stay here and round out a couple of other
ideas for his campaign."

Hal had risen from his desk when there was a light knock at the door and
Milly Neal's bright head appeared.

"Hullo!" said Dr. Surtaine. "What's up? Anything wrong at the shop,
Milly?"

The girl walked into the room and stood trimly at ease before the four
men.

"No, Chief," said she. "I understood Mr. Surtaine wanted to see me."

"I?" said Hal blankly, pushing a chair toward her.

"Yes. Didn't you? They told me you left word for me in the city room, to
see you when I came in again. Sometimes I send my copy, so I only just
got the message."

"Miss Neal is 'Kitty the Cutie,'" explained McGuire Ellis.

"Looks it, too," observed L.P. McQuiggan jauntily, addressing the upper
far corner of the room.

Miss Neal looked at him, met a knowing and conscious smile, looked right
through the smile, and looked away again, all with the air of one who
gazes out into nothingness.

"Guess I'll go look up this Shearson person," said Mr. McQuiggan, a
trifle less jauntily. "See you all later."

"I'd no notion you were the writer of the Cutie paragraphs, Milly," said
Dr. Surtaine. "They're lively st