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ENGLISH COPYRIGHT RESERVED BY AUTHOR. BY J. P. COUGHLAN. [CONCLUDED.L ATER on, when the forms were locked up and sent down to the machine room, and the labors of the editorial staff were fin ished for that day, Headlam, our principal leader writer, came into my room to pass the weary hours that yet remained of our imprison ment. For some time we talked generally of the affairs of The Herald and The Messenger, but grad ually brought the conversation round on Gilbert Selwicke personally. “By the way,” Headlam said, “of course you know that Selwicke wanted to marry Miss Hardinge when he was here, but he was choked off by the old man.?? “Oh, yes!’ I replied, “I heard that.” Headlam continued: “Well, if what I heard to day is in any way true, Selwicke has not yet given up hope. It appears that he is now almost sole pro prietor of The Messenger, and in working it up as he is doing it is his intention ultimately to force an amalgamation scheme on Mr. Hardinge. Langton, when the excitement of the present bitter rivalry subsides, will not support two daily papers, and Selwicke, knowing that, hopes by keeping The Messenger going at for steam to compel Mr. Har dinge to agree to the incorporation of The Messenger with The Herald, on Selwicke’s conditions., I need hardly say that one of the conditions will be his marriage with Miss Hardinge.” My only reply to Headlam was a surprised “‘Oh!”* but inwardly I registered a solemn vow that, if the fates were not dead against us, both Selwicke and his paper would go under. “Five o’clock! ? came a voice from downstairs. I turned and looked at the clock and instantly ran down the stairs. A messenger boy was standing at the door. “Here, boy!” I cried, giving a coin, “run along to The Messenger office and get me a copy of to day’s paper. Come back this way and you will meet me.?? The boy went along quickly and I hurried after him,as The Messenger office lay on my route home. As I neared our rival’s office the lad came panting towards me and handed me the paper sull damp from the press. Intantly I opened it. My eyes at a glance took in its contents, and as they did my heart felt as though it were a lump of chill lead. A column and a half of the “Cedars”? burglary! And, worse, a column of a suicide in the canal, of which we had not a line. In my whole career I never felt so keenly what it was to be beaten. I hurried home Wards, there to make close examination of The Messengers story. On reading it it became only too apparent that our copy was the basis of their report, else there was an extraordinary coinci dence, and coincidences of that kind were a little too frequent between The Herald and The Messen ger to allow that theory to hold good. I was utterly puzzled as to how we had been sold, and my attempt to account for the mystery brought on an attack of acute depression. I met Mr. Hardinge that evening. His greeting was altogether different to what I expected. He was smiling, almost cheerfully. ‘We're sold again, Mr. Rayburne,’’ he remarked, “but I’m rather glad of it this time, as it gives you a real idea of the state of affairs. I heard of the Precautions you took, and am glad you are alive to the necessities of the case. I suppose,’ he con tinued smilingly, ‘It would be too much to expect you to advance any fresh theories just now?” “Too much, I returned, with a melancholy shake of my head. I am sure I possess as much innate self confidence as most newspaper editors, and that is saying Much, yet, after some months, during which incidents like that which I have just described frequently occurred, I began to feel hopeless as to my chances of checkmating the clever game of The Messenger. That my position after that time was still tenable was due largely to Mr. Hardinge’s generous consideration, influenced in a measure, doubtless, by the fact that under my charge The Herald had made progress in certain other direc tions, though so far I was utterly unable to show that anything had been done towards putting an end to that well nigh intolerable state of af fairs as regards The Messenger’s robbery of our best news. The mental strain which I underwent just then was rapidly leaving its mark on me, and many times I was on the point of throwing up the sponge, ignominious though that course would have been. Indeed, I must confess that it was not altogether my desire to preserve my reputation as a journal- York office. If there is nothing final I shall be able,to go out with you in a fewgiinutes.” “Yowre connected with New York, then, by special wire ?” he asked. “Oh, yes,” I replied. “The Herald S has had its own special wire for years—even The Messenger has one. Langton is advanced enough for that. There, just listen! The operator is working now; you can hear his instrument quite plainly. He's in the next room.” Jeffries nodded, whilst I scribbled a message to our New York correspondent. I did not deliver it, however, as at that moment a reporter brought in a big story of a double murder in the suburbs. Instead I handed the telegraph operator a message on my table, then, when I looked up from the paper on which I was writing, I noticed that he was sitting back in his chair, meditatively gazing at the ceiling. “Thinking? “Yes.” I went on with my writing. Suddenly Charley’s voice: “Your telegraph operator is fond of work!” “I didn't know it.” “He's working now.” “Oh! yes, just having a chat with the man at the other end. They're friends, believe.”” “1m. Jefferies listened intently to the sound of the “dot” set that kept me in Langton, for Nellie Hardinge’s influence over me was strong enough to make me renounce the idea of leaving my post on The Herald to a man who would show better results in the fight with The Messenger. ‘Certainly extraordinary, but I am surprised to find Jack Rayburne #0 hopeless and inclined to knuckle under so quickly. Right enough, you're showing signs of the fght. You were two atone a better man when I last saw you in New York.” The speaker was Charley Jeffries, an old friend of mine, who happened at the moment to be an actor in a touring company when staying at Lang ton. Charley was many things in the course of his experience. I knew him flat as a newspaper man in New York, and a little expected him to turn up as an actor in Langton. However, up he turned, and was sitting in my sanctum in The Herald office, where, after a long chat on the old times, I had just told him the story of my position on The Herald. He had called after the performance at the theatre, and it was then getting on towards twelve o'clock. Most of the staff were down at supper, but gradually they came back to their Places as Charley and I talked. “Very busy?’ he asked as a preliminary to in viting me across to his hotel for an hour or two. “We're quiet tonight,’ I replied. ‘11] just see if they have anything special to send us from the New “Cut down. Send only important matter.” “Have you got a beat?!’ asked Jeffries, with a smile. The reporter was writing out his copy in a room across the corridor. I called out to him and he came into my room. “Do The Messenger people know of this, Jones?” “I don’t think #0, Mr. Rayburne, the Sergeant gave me the tip only a little over an hour ago. The bodies were discovered at nine and nothing seems to be known of the affair in the town, as yet. The police were not likely to have told The Messenger men, as they are not particularly good friends just now.’ “Very good! get your copy ready as quickly as you can; pass it in as fast as you write it. We'll try another far) with Selwicke this time.” Jones left to write out his report, and, as on a previous occasion, I had the office building her metically sealed, as I fondly hoped. Smillingly I said to Jefferies: “You heard my order, Charney? Of course it applies to you. We must keep you a prisoner of war.’ we ‘s] don’t mind in the least. I shall rather enjoy a night in a newspaper office now. Don't let me interrupt you. I shall amuse myself with your exchanges.” For some minutes Charney read the papers lying and dashes” coming through from the other room. Then he added: “Do you know if can ‘send’ or ‘receive’ by the Morne code? [learned it when I was New York correspondent for The Manchester Deliverer.” “Indeed? “Shall I tell you what your man is sending to his friend now!” “Pot “He's giving him a pretty good, though con densed, I should imagine, account of that murder business your reporter brought in half an hour ago.” . . Jefferies smiled queerly at my look of perplexed amazement. “The Messenger people have also a New York wire, I understand,” he added by way of explanation. In a moment I understood everything. Our tele graph operators at both ends were bribed by our rival. Our cherished news left our office by our Private wire, and in New York was sent from our correspondent's office to The Messenger office, there to be retransmitted to Langton. It did not take me long to make up my mind how to act. Patting my Anger to my lips to enjoin quietness on Jefferies’ part, left my table, going via the tele graph room, upstairs to see Smithson, our sporting editor. As I entered the operator's room , noticed Stanton leave it. That completed the Unraveling of the mystery. It was he who supplied the tele graphist with the necessary details. When I returned to my room Smithson was with me and a moment later we were joined by Allen, our chief reporter. We held a short, low consultation, and, followed by Smithsop, entered the opera tor's room, Allen and Jefferies bringing up in the rear. Before the telegraphist, Dalton, had time to recover from his surprise at seeing this contingent wait on him, had turned the switch of his instru ment and in another second Smithson had him on his back on the floor, while Jefferies tapped out a message to the man at the other end: “Called away. Will finish in a few minutes, 10. Dutton seemed as if he had some inclination to show fight, but Smithson is a heavy man, and by keeping his knee on Dutton's chest he adminis tered an admirable palliative. However, we had no desire to keep Smithson sitting on Dutton’s chest all the morning; instead, we bound him with new stout cards and laid him on the couch In my room and each time as we felt it desirable to let him loose. Stanton was sent for and came in very unsus pectingly, “Sit down! I said, pointing to a chair at the op posite side of my table, “and write a confession of the fraud which you and Gilbert Salwicke have worked on The Herald since the starting of The Messenger, promise you no mercy for doing so, everything shall be left to Mr. Hardinge’s decision, but doubtless it will be of service to you to own up honestly. Stanton looked at Dutton, bound and helpless, then at Smithson and Allen, apparently in a state of complete indecision, and finally he said: “I suppose there's nothing for it; the game seems to be up.!? Ten minutes later Jefferies was sitting before the telegraph instrument, sending that part of the murder report left untold by Dutton. The latter had really sent only the preliminary details, but Jefferies, under my instructions, sent a very com plete account indeed, an account that was never brought in by our reporter, and an account which would in itself be a resistless proof of the robberies of The Messenger. Next morning our paper was perhaps an hour or more late in publication, but I never saw it to con tain what it considered botter news. In it was be gun the story of the long series of robberies per petrated on us by The Messenger, an account of the discovery of the trick by which they were com mitted, and a fac slintte of Stanton's confession, in dorsed by Dutton. The Messenger had fallen into our trap, and their two columns of alleged details of the big murder were delightfully bogus. ‘Lang ton thoroughly enjoyed the exposure. Throughout the day crowds stood around The Messenger ofiea to jeer at the star passing in and out, but were denied the privilege of seeing Selwicke himself, as he discreetly and hurriedly left Langton on a VACA tion. Mr. Hardinge, as did his wife, offered me their warmest congratulations, but I persisted in divert ing their thanks to the real author of our coup, Jefferies. Nellie Hardinge also warmly congratu lated me. Her congratulations reserved entirely for myself, as presumably I had the right to do, seeing that she at the same time promised to be my wife. Shortly afterwards The Messenger, which on Selwicke's disappearance passed into more respect able hands, ended its career, and The Herald, the property of Hardinge, Rayburne Co., is now the only daily paper in Langton. Vice ae
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