The others signified their approval.  “But can’t we do something in the mean time?” asked Dr. Elliot.  “A little cleaning-up, maybe?  Who owns that pest-hole?”

“Any number of people,” said the clergyman.  “It’s very complicated, what with ground leases, agencies, and trusteeships.  I dare say some of the owners don’t even know that the property belongs to them.”

“One of the things we might find out,” said Ellis.  “Might be interesting to publish.”

“I’ll send you a full statement of what I got about the burials in Canadaga County,” promised Dr. Elliot.  “Coming along, Mr. Hale?”

“No.  I want to speak to Mr. Ellis about another matter.”  The clergyman waited until the physician had left and then said, “It’s about Milly Neal.”

“Well, what about her?”

“I thought you could tell me.  Or perhaps Mr. Surtaine.”

Remembering that encounter outside of the road house weeks before, Ellis experienced a throb of misgiving.

“Why Mr. Surtaine?” he demanded.

“Because he’s her employer.”

Ellis gazed hard at the young minister.  He met a straight and clear regard which reassured him.

“He isn’t, now,” said he.

“She’s left?”

“Yes.”

“That’s bad,” worried the clergyman, half to himself.

“Bad for the paper.  ‘Kitty the Cutie’ was a feature.”

“Why did she leave?”

“Just quit.  Sent in word about ten days ago that she was through.  No explanation.”

“Mr. Ellis, I’m interested in Milly Neal,” said the minister, after some hesitation.  “She’s helped me quite a bit with our club down here.  There’s a lot in that girl.  But there’s a queer, un-get-at-able streak, too.  Do you know a man named Veltman?”

“Max?  Yes.  He’s foreman of our composing-room.”

“She’s been with him a great deal lately.”

“Why not?  They’re old friends.  No harm in Veltman.”

“He’s a married man.”

“That so!  I never knew that.  Well, ‘Kitty the Cutie’ ought to be keen enough to take care of herself.”

“There’s the difficulty.  She doesn’t seem to want to take care of herself.  She’s lost interest in the club.  For a time she was drinking heavily at some of the all-night places.  And this news of her quitting here is worst of all.  She seemed so enthusiastic about the work.”

“Her job’s open for her if she wants to come back.”

“Good!  I’m glad to hear that.  It gives me something to work on.”

“By the way,” said McGuire Ellis, “how do you like the paper?” Sooner or later he put this question to every one with whom he came in contact.  What he found out in this way helped to make him the journalistic expert he was.

“Pretty well,” hesitated the other.

“What’s wrong with it?” inquired Ellis.

“Well, frankly, some of your advertising.”

“We’re the most independent paper in this town on advertising,” stated Ellis with conviction.