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Well, when Marrineal got Ban where he couldn't resign, Ban's hold was gone. That was Marrineal's gun." "Why couldn't he resign?" asked Io, white-lipped. "If he quit The Patriot he could no longer hold Bussey, and The Searchlight could print what it chose. You see?" "I see," said Io, very low. "Oh, why couldn't I have seen before!" "How could you, if Ban told you nothing?" reasoned Edmonds.
"Read this," he said, giving her Dora Bellairs's letter, "and then we'll have an explanation." Half an hour later Miss Bussey was roused from a pleasant snooze. John and Mary stood beside her, hand in hand. They wore brother and sister now that was an integral part of the arrangement and so they stood hand in hand. Their faces were radiant.
The intercourse of the lovers was much interrupted, and to this Miss Bussey attributed the low spirits that Mary sometimes displayed. "There, there, my dear," she would say impatiently for the cheerful old lady hated long faces "you'll have enough of him and to spare by and by." Curiously this point of view did not comfort Mary.
With a distant reminiscence of the ball room, Arthur Laing approached Miss Bussey, murmuring "May I have the " and with a mighty effort swung the good lady from the ground. She clutched his cravat wildly, crying "Save me!" Mary Travers was calmness itself. With quiet mien and unfaltering voice, she laid her hand on Charlie's arm and murmured: "I am ready, Charlie."
And, now, John, let's think no more about them! Oh, well, that's nonsense; but let's enjoys ourselves as well as we can." They managed to enjoy themselves very well. The town was new to Mary, and John found a pleasure in showing it off to her. After a morning of sight-seeing, they drove in the Bois, and ended the day at the theatre. Miss Bussey, unfortunately, was no better.
She looked at him: he was reading a letter. She looked in at the window: Mary was reading a letter. "Well!" exclaimed Miss Bussey. "Have they had a tiff?" He advanced toward her still reading; not only did he not see her, but he failed to notice that Paul had got under his feet. He fell over Paul, and as he stumbled the letter fluttered out of his hand.
Bussey, lifting the typed sheets before him, began to read. Presently his face flushed. "Why, if you print this sort of thing, you'd have my office mobbed," he cried indignantly. "It's possible." "It's outrageous! And this if this isn't an incitement to lynching You wouldn't dare publish this!" "Try me." Major Bussey's wizened and philanthropic face took on the cast of careful thought.
"We're too late," and there was a touch of disappointment in his voice, as he turned and shouted to the others, "Keep your seats! It's all over. Only an explosion." "Only!" shuddered Miss Bussey. "It's a mercy we weren't killed." It appeared that this mercy had not stopped at Miss Bussey and her friends.
Banneker," muttered the editor. His right hand moved slowly, stealthily, toward a lower drawer. "Cut it, Major!" implored Con in acute anguish. "Canche' see he's gotche' covered through his pocket!" The stealthy hand returned to the sight of all men and fussed among some papers on the desk-top. Major Bussey said peevishly: "What do you want with me?" "Kill that paragraph." "What par "
Girl wasn't bad-looking, though." The next morning, unhappily, confirmed him in his mistake. For Miss Bussey, overcome by the various trials of the day before, kept her bed, and when Laing came down, the first sight which met his eyes was a breakfast-table, whereat Mary and John sat tête-
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