o in "Clarion" print, but of the advertisement
style:

WANTED--Sewing-girls for simple machine work. Experience not
necessary. $10 to $15 a week guaranteed. Apply in person at 14
Manning Street.
THE SEWING AID ASSOCIATION.

Below, in the same hand writing was the query:

"_What's your percentage of the blood-money, Mr. Harrington Surtaine?"_

Hal threw it over to Ellis. "Whose writing is that?" he asked. "It looks
familiar to me."

"Max Veltman's," said Ellis. He took in the meaning of it. "The insolent
whelp!" he said.

"Insolent? Yes; he's that. But the worst of it is, I'm afraid he's
right." And he telephoned for Shearson.

The advertising manager came up, puffing.

Hal held out the clipping to him.

"How long has that been running?"

"On and off for six months."

"Throw it out."

"Throw it out!" repeated the other bitterly. "That's easy enough said."

"And easily enough done."

"It's out already. Taken out by early notice this morning."

"That's all right, then."

"_Is_ it all right!" boomed Shearson. "_Is_ it! You won't think so when
you hear the rest of it."

"Try me."

"Do you know _who_ the Sewing Aid Association is?"

"No."

"It's John M. Gibbs! That's who it is!"

"Yell louder, Shearson. It may save you from apoplexy," advised McGuire
Ellis with tender solicitude.

"And we lose every line of the Boston Store advertising, that I worked
so hard to get back."

"That'll hurt," allowed Ellis.

"Hurt! It draws blood, that does. That Sewing Aid Association is Gibbs's
scheme to supply the children's department of his store. Why couldn't
you find out who you were hitting, Mr. Surtaine?" demanded Shearson
pathetically, "before you went and mucksed everything up this way? See
what comes of all this reform guff."

"Are you sure that John M. Gibbs is back of that sewing-girl ad?"

"Sure? Didn't he call me up this morning and raise the devil?"

"Thank you, Mr. Shearson. That's all."

To his editorial galley-proof Hal added two lines.

"What's that, Mr. Surtaine?" asked the advertising manager curiously.

"That's outside of your department. But since you ask, I'll tell you.
It's an editorial on the kind of swindle that causes tragedies like
Maggie Breen's. And the sentence which I have just added, thanks to you,
is this:

"'The proprietor of this scheme which drives penniless women to the
street or to suicide is John M. Gibbs, principal owner of the Boston
Store.'"