The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1914-10-08
Copyright, 1914, by Harold MacGrath)

They are more important than you
think. Every morning l rub out the
wrinkle go to bed with
Il wish you could rub out the gen.
eral stupidity which is wrinkling my
brain. I've made three moves and
failed in each. What's come over
me?"
Perhaps you've had too many sue
cesses. The wheel of chance is al
ways turning around"
May l smoker"
Thanks. At least it proves you still
have some consideration for me. You
would smoke whether it was agreeable
or not. But like the odor of good
cigar. And it always helps you to
think"
Braine lit the cigar and began his
customary pacing. At length he
paused.
Suppose we have a real old-fash-
ioned coaching party out to the old
mansion we know about?"
And what shall we do there?"
Make the mansion an enchanted
castle where sometimes people who
enter can't get out. Do you think you
could get her to go?"
II can try"
Olga, | must have that girl; and l
must have her soon. Sometimes find
myself nightly puzzled over the
whole thing. If Hargreave is alive,
why doesn't he turn up now that it's
practically known that his daughter
presides over his household? ! might
understand it if | didn't know that
Hargreave is really afraid Of nothing.
Where is the man with the five thou
sand, picked up at sea? What was
the reason for Jones carrying that box
out in broad daylight? Who is the
chap watching across the street?
Sometimes | believe in my soul-if |
have one!-that Hargreave is playing
with us, playing! Well,' flinging the
half consumed cigar into the CRATE,
'the Black Hundred always goes for
ward, win or lose, and never forgets."
1--WE are a fine pair!" said the wo-
man bitterly.
I'VE are exactly what fate intended
us to be. They wrote you down in the
book as beautiful body with a
crooked mind. They wrote me down
as the devil, doomed to roam earth's
top till I'm killed"
KILLED."
"Why, yes. I'm not the kind of
chap who dies in bed, surrounded by
the weeping members of the family,
doctor, nurse, and priest. I'm
scoundrel but it has this saving
grace, enjoy being a scoundrel. Now,
I'm going up to the club. There's
nothing like game of billiards OF
chess to smooth that wrinkle which
seems to worry you"
In the great newspaper office there
was a mighty racket. Midnight al.
ways means pandemonium in the
city room of a metropolitan daily,
Copy boys were rushing to and fro,
messengers and printers with sticky
galleys in their hands; reporters were
banging away at their typewriters,
and intermingling you could hear the
ceaseless clickety-click from the tele-
graph room.
The managing editor came out OF
his office and approached the desk OF
the night city editor.
Editorial page gone DOWN."
Twenty minutes ago." said the
night city editor.
Il wanted a stick ON that Panama
rumpus."
Too late"
Where's Jim Norton?"
"At the chamber of commerce ban
| quet. The major is going to throw a
bomb into the enemys camp"
Nothing on the Hargreave stuff?"
"No. Guess I'd better put that in
the cubbyhole. He's dead"
mo will found YETI"
Not a piece as big as a postage
stamp"
That will leave the girl in a tough
/ place. No will, no birth certificate;
! and, worst of ALL no photograph OF
the old man himself. / don't see why
Jim sidestepped this affair. He the
| only man in town who knew anything
about Hargreave."
''He hasn't given it up; but he wants
to cover it on his own, turn the yarn
over when he's got it, no false alarms"
"Ah! So that's the gamer"
"Yes; and Jim is the sort every pa
per needs. When the time comes the
story turns up, if there is one. Here
he is now. Looks like an actor in the
fourth act of drama. Good-looking
chap, though"
Norton came in through the outer
gates. He was in evening clothes. top
hat. A dead cigarette dangled be-
tween his lips.
How much do you want?" asked the
night city editor.
Column and half"
Ion with your glad rags!"
Anything good?" asked the manag-
ing editor.
"The lid has been jammed on tight.
No wine in any restaurant after one
! o'clock. There'll be a roundup of ev.