The business manager read it.

“It makes good reading, Mr. McQuade, but if you want to kill the Times, run it.  There are some stories that can only be rumored, not printed, and this is one of them.  If this appears, you have my word that every decent advertiser will cancel his contract forthwith.”

Walford looked at his employer in frank triumph.  McQuade had great confidence in these two men.  He ripped the manuscript into squares and filtered them through his fingers into the waste-basket.

“You boys are probably right,” he said reluctantly.  “I have no desire to see the paper lose its sound footing.  But this would have killed the man socially and politically, so far as this town is concerned.”

“Admitted,” replied Walford, straightening out some proofs.  “But we’ll topple him over in a legitimate way.”

“Go ahead, then.  I’m not particular how it’s done so long as you do it.  Perhaps, after all, it’s just as well.  I’ve got another idea.  I can see that I’ve made a mistake.”

McQuade started down the stairs to the street and met Warrington coming up.  The two men paused for a moment, then went on.  Once on the sidewalk, McQuade turned and hesitated.  No, he had nothing to say to Mr. Warrington.  He strode down the street toward his own offices.

It will be seen that Warrington had gone directly into the enemy’s camp.  He knew Walford of old; they were tolerably good friends.  He gave his card to the boy.  Walford, on reading it, stuffed several newspapers into the waste-basket and pressed his foot on them.  He was a bit shaken.

“Send him in.  Hello, Dick,” he said.  “How are you?  You’re the last man I expected to see this morning.  What can I do for you?”

“You can tell your political reporter and your editorial man to let up on me for a week,” said Warrington directly.  “What the devil have I done to you chaps that you should light into me after this fashion?”

“You have become rich and famous, Dick, and mediocrity can stand anything but that.”  But there was a twinkle in Walford’s eyes.

“Come, Wally, you know that isn’t the truth.”

“Well, if you want the truth I’ll give it to you.  Answer me frankly and honestly, do you consider that you have any moral right to accept a nomination for the mayoralty of Herculaneum?”

“Moral right.  I’ll pick up that phrase and carry it to your camp.  I have as much moral right as Donnelly, who, if he hasn’t been caught, is none the less culpable for breaking his oath of loyalty.  You know this as well as I do.”

Walford eyed the waste-basket thoughtfully.

“Now, we’ll turn to the legal side,” continued Warrington.  “I was born here; I cast my first vote here; for several years I’ve been a property owner and have paid my taxes without lying to the tax-assessor.  It is notorious that Donnelly is worth half a million, and yet he is assessed upon a house worth about seven thousand.  You have called me a meddler; you apply the term every day.  Now draw the distinction, as to eligibility, between Donnelly and myself.”