l be down on you."

"The whole angry hive of capital and privilege," confirmed Ellis.

"You see," cried the pleader; "you can't print it. Publishing an article
about Kathleen Pierce will be bad enough, but it's nothing to what this
other roast would be. One would make Pierce hate you as long as he
lives. The other will make the whole Business Interests of the city your
enemy. How can you live without business?"

"Business isn't as rotten as that," averred Hal. "If it is, I'm going to
fight it."

"Fight business!" It was almost a groan. "Tell him, Ellis, what a
serious thing this is. You agree with me in that, don't you?"

"Entirely."

"And that the 'Clarion' can't afford to touch the thing at all? You're
with me there, too, aren't you?"

"Absolutely not."

"You're going to stand by and see my boy turn traitor to his class?"

"Damn his class," said McGuire Ellis, in mild, conversational tones.

"As much as you like," agreed the other, "in talk. But when it comes to
print, remember, it's our class that's got the money."

"Wouldn't it be a refreshing change," suggested Ellis, "to have one
paper in Worthington that money won't buy?"

"All very well, if you were strong enough." The wily old charlatan
shifted his ground. "Wait until you've built up to it. Then, when you've
got the public, you can afford to be independent."

"Get your price and then reform. Is that the idea, Father?" said Hal.

"Boy-ee, I don't know what's come over you lately. Journalism seems to
have got into your blood."

"Blame Ellis. He's been my preceptor."

"Both of you have got your lesson to learn."

"Well, I've learned one," asserted Hal: "that it's the business of a
newspaper to print the news."

"There's only one sound business principle, success. When it costs you
more to print a thing than not to print it, it's bad business to print
it."

"I'm sorry, Dad, but the 'Clarion' is going to carry this to-morrow."

"In case you're nervous about Mr. Pierce," put in McGuire Ellis with
Machiavellian innuendo, "I can pass it on to him that you're in no way
responsible for the 'Clarion's' policy."

"Me, afraid of Elias M. Pierce?" Our Leading Citizen's prickly vanity
was up in arms at once. "I'll match him or fight him dollar for dollar,
as long as my weasel-skin lasts. No, sir: if Hal's going to fight, I'll
stick by him as long as there's a dollar in the till."

"It's mighty good of you, Dad, and I know you'd do it. But I've made