The Huttig news., 1908-04-18
THE SCOOP
THAT FAILED
BY Vim. q. Stleg!er

Mark Everett was one of those re-
porters who are born, not made. From
his earliest copy-carrying days he had
made the public world his own, study
ing its characters and exploring its
sinister ways until its atmosphere had
become his very breath of life. It's
monotonous routine never dulled his
enthusiasm; its work, however slay-
ish, never found him conscious of
fatigue When he reported nothing
doing on a story it meant just that.
Then, one summer, Mark went away
for his vacation. 1t was the first time
he had ever done so-just two
weeks jaunt on the lakes; but when
he came back he was changed. He
had seen a new world, and somehow
the luster of the old seemed dimmed.
Former haunts lost their lure, and he
would sit for hours at headquarters,
with his feet on the press table, and
mathematician.
Those cold blue northern waters;
the fragrant freshness of the winds;
the green-ribbed shores that glinted
in the mist-strained light-how he had
enjoyed them all. Such delightful peo-
pie, too! And she-ah, she was best
of all! Her eyes-how beautiful
deeper and bluer than the lakes them.
selves! Sometimes they were yelled
as with the moisture of tears; once
or twice he had seen them glow with
the sunlight of smiles. She had
spoken scarcely dozen words to him,
yet the memory of her had lifted wom
anhood to loftier heights of reverence,
clothing even the commonest police
court drab with an inviolability that
transformed her from jest to an OBJ
ject of pity. 1t had been all too brief
he might never see her again.
Just such dream it was that the
city editor interrupted one afternoon
about month after Marks return.
Here's tip from Detroit on big
story" he snapped over the telephone.
Morgan, the defaulting bank cashier,
is believed to be hiding here. Detec
tives have found letter mailed to his
relatives from 314 Denman place. Get
out on it right away and play it for
big exclusive!"
All of Marks news facilities leaped
to quick responsiveness, and his blood
tinged with the love of excitement as
he set out upon his quest And luck
was with him, for the proprietress of
the boarding house at 314 Denman
place was none other than Maude
Wicherly, whom he knew as maker
of past police history.
1T won't get you anything to throw
me down on this Mark urged sig
nificantly, when she denied having
any guest named Morgan. Then she
suddenly remembered that man on
the third floor by the name of Stephens
had received letters from Detroit-he
~ .
Mark promptly found the door,
which, after an interval of knocking,
was cautiously opened by small, pale
man with iron gray hair.
How do you do, Mr.. Morgan?" be-
gan Mark, CURLY, pushing his way into
the room.
The man started back in speeches.
fright, his face blanching before the
reporters accusing gaze. who are
you?" he finally gasped.
I'm a detective, come to take you
back to Detroit so you'd better make
clean breast of the whole business"
Mark advanced a Stephen stopped
as if paralyzed. He closed his eyes
convulsively, but when he opened
them the vision was still there-not as
in his dreams and memories-yet un-
mistakably she.
A wild fear burned in her widened
eyes, as she halted in the doorway of
the adjoining room.
"Mr. Everett" she murmured Then
she dropped quickly on her knees be-
side the old man, who was now sitting
with his face buried in his quivering
hands. What is it, papa?" she
asked TREMENDOUSLY.
That same sense of guilt and shame
which he had pictured in the other
mans heart now overwhelmed Mark
Il didn't know he was your father"
he faltered. "You told-you see,
thought your name He hesitated.
Her object helplessness unnerved him
If he could only spare her the humili-
alton of knowing that he knew.
II was looking for some one else
and-and made a mistake" he con.
tinued, in tirmer, strangely tender
tones. But this is no place for you
You and your father must leave here
at once. Let me help you, won't you?"
And the girl YEARLY lifted two i'm
potent little hands to him
Before the three passed out into the
twilight, Mark stepped close to the
Wicherly woman. "If you want me to
forget some things know" he whis-
pered, lust forget that these people