Part 42 (1/2)

”I hope it'll turn out that way, I'm sure,” he said. ”I'll let you have a reduction on all post-cards, just for old times' sake. Now I must find out about the New York trains.”

He melted into the crowd, an odd figure still, his garb in a fas.h.i.+on long forgotten, his clumsily hacked hair brus.h.i.+ng the collar of his ancient coat. Magee and the girl found the check room, and after he had been relieved of the burden of his baggage, set out up the main street of Reuton. It was a typical up-state town, deep in the throes of the holiday season. The windows of the stores were green with holly; the faces of the pa.s.sers-by reflected the excitements of Christmas and of the upheaval in civic politics which were upon them almost together.

”Tell me,” said the girl, ”are you glad--at the way it has turned out?

Are you glad I was no lady Captain Kidd?”

”It has all turned out--or is about to turn out--beautifully,” Mr. Magee answered. ”You may remember that on the veranda of Baldpate Inn I spoke of one summer hotel flirtation that was going to prove more than that.

Let me--”

Her laugh interrupted.

”You don't even know my name.”

”What's the matter with Evelyn Rhodes?” suggested Magee.

”Nothing. It's a perfectly good name. But it isn't mine. I just write under it.”

”I prefer Mary, anyhow,” smiled Billy Magee. ”She called you that. It's Mary.”

”Mary what?”

”You have no idea,” said he, ”how immaterial that is.”

They came upon a throng blocking the sidewalk in front of a tall building of stone. The eyes of the throng were on bulletins; it muttered much as they had muttered who gathered in the station.

”The office of the _Star_,” explained the girl. ”The crowd is looking for new excitement. Do you know, for two whole hours this morning we had on exhibition in the window a certain package--a package of money!”

”I think,” smiled Magee, ”I've seen it somewhere.”

”I think you have. Drayton came and took it from us as soon as he heard.

But it was the very best proof we could have offered the people. They like to see for themselves. It's a pa.s.sion with them. We've done for Cargan forever.”

”Cargan says he will fight.”

”Of course he will,” she replied. ”But this will prove Napoleon's Waterloo. Whether or not he is sent to prison--and perhaps he can escape that, he's very clever--his power in Reuton is broken. He can't possibly win at the next election--it comes very soon. I'm so glad. For years our editor has been fighting corruption, in the face of terrible odds and temptations. I'm so glad it's over now--and the _Star_ has won.”

”Through you,” said Magee softly.

”With--some one--to help,” she smiled. ”I must go up-stairs now and find out what new task is set for me.”

Mr. Magee postponed the protest on the tip of his tongue, and, climbing the gloomy stairs that newspapers always affect, they came into the city room of the _Star_. Though the paper had been long on the street, the excitement of the greatest coup of years still lingered in the place.

Magee saw the deferential smiles that greeted the girl, and watched her as she made her way to the city editor's desk. In a moment she was back at his side.

”I've got my a.s.signment,” she smiled ruefully. They descended to the street. ”It's wonderful,” she went on, ”how curt a city editor can be with any one who pulls off a good story. The job I've got now reminds me of the experience of an old New York reporter who used to work on the _Star_.”

With difficulty they threaded their way through the crowd, and moved along beside the green-decked windows.

”He was the first man sent out by his paper on Park Row on the Spanish War a.s.signment,” she went on, ”and he behaved rather brilliantly, I believe. Well, he came back after the fight was over, all puffed up and important, and they told him the city editor wanted him. 'They're going to send me to the Philippines,' he told me he thought as he went into the presence. When the city editor ordered him to rush down to a two-alarm fire in Houston Street he nearly collapsed. I know how he felt. I feel that way now.”

”What was it--a one-alarm fire?” asked Magee.