nutes." And he
resumed his discussion of "black-face," "36-point," "indents," "boxes,"
and so on.

Left to his own devices Hal turned idly to the long table. From the
newspaper which the Reverend Norman Hale had left, there glared up at
him in savage black type this heading:--

CERTINA A FAKE

_Religious Editor Shows Up Business and Professional_

_Methods of Dr. L. Andre Surtaine_

The article was made up of excerpts from a religious weekly's expose,
interspersed with semi-editorial comment. As he skimmed it, Hal's wrath
and loyalty waxed in direct ratio. Malice was obvious in every line, to
the incensed reader. But the cause and purpose were not so clear. As he
looked up, brooding upon it, he caught his father's eye.

"Been reading that slush, Hal?"

"Yes, sir. Of course it's all a pack of lies. But what's the reason for
it?"

"Blackmail, son."

"Do they expect to get money out of you this way?"

"No. That isn't it. I've always refused to have any business dealings
with 'em, and this is their way of revenge."

"But I didn't know you advertised Certina in the local papers."

"We don't. Proprietaries don't usually advertise in their own towns.
We're so well known at home that we don't have to. But some of the side
lines, like the Relief Pills, that go out under another trade name, use
space in the Worthington papers. The 'Clarion' isn't getting that copy,
so they're sore."

"Can't you sue them for libel, Dad?"

"Hardly worth while. Decent people don't read the 'Clarion' anyway, so
it can't hurt much. It's best just to ignore such things."

"Something ought to be done about it," declared Hal angrily.

Stuffing the paper into his pocket he took his wrath out into the open
air. Hard and fast he walked, but the farther he went the hotter burned
his ire.

There was in Harrington Surtaine a streak of the romantic. His inner
world was partly made up of such chimerical notions as are bred in a
lively mind, not in very close touch with the world of actualities, by a
long course of novel-reading and theater-going. Deep within him stirred
a conviction that there was a proper and suitable, nay, an almost
obligatory, method made and provided for just such crises as this:
something that a keen-spirited and high-bred youth ought to do about it.
Suddenly it came to him. Young Surtaine returned home with his resolve
taken. In the morning he would fare forth, a modern knight redressing
human wrongs, and lick