Dolph nodded.
"And therefore I know whereof I speak," he added gloomily. "I wish the little beggar would leave off his moving picture shows of town society, and hie his muse once more in search of subjects from the woolly West."
"Knowing the West more than a little, I don't." Reed spoke with decision.
"What's the harm?"
"He doesn't get within a gunshot of the truth."
"No matter. He thinks he does, and the average member of his reading public doesn't know enough to realize the difference."
"All the worse. He ought to be sued for libel. By the way, did you know he has been having his professional eye on me?"
"For what?"
"Copy, of course. He got to calling rather often. I must say that I lured him on; I found his babble a distraction. Then, one day—Prather is nothing, if not transparent—he let out the fact that he was taking notes of me, for his next novel."
"Of all the—"