The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1909-01-07
THE SCOOP
THAT FAILED
BY VIM. q. stIegIer

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 It's atmosphere had
become his very breath of life. Its
| monotonous routine never dulled his
enthusiasm; its work, however slav-
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. II was the first time
he had ever done so-just two
weeks iaunt 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
| dream-dream-drea
Those cold, blue northern waters
the fragrant freshness of the winds;
the green-ribbod shores that glinted
| m the miststrained light-how he had
| enioyed them all, Such delightful peo-
| pie, too, and she-ah she was best
| of all, Her eyes-how beautiful
| deeper and buer 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 a dozen words TO him,
vet the memory of her had lifted wom-
anhood to loftier heights a reverence.
clothing even the commonest police
court draS with an invioability that
| transformed her from a jest to an OBJ
! ject of pity. 1t had been all too brief
he might never see her again.
Just such a dream it was that the
city editor interrupted one afternoon
about a month after Marks return.
Heres a 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 31i Denman place. Get
out on it right away and play it for
a 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 3l4 Denman
place was none other than Maude
h. oil
of past police history.
ut won't get you anything to throw
me down on this" Mark urged sig.
nifirantly. 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
might be the person sought.
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 speechless
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 a
clean breast of the whole business"
Mark advanced 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.
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 quiverng
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
Il was looking for some one else
and-and made 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 your"
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. Just forget that these~ people
were ever here"
What about that Sorgan story?"
demanded the city EDITOR, anxiously,
as Mark lounged slowly up to the