“Do Hitt and Haynerd bring against me the charges which you voiced a moment ago? And do you intend to make the columns of your paper spicy with your comments on my character and methods? I verily believe you are declaring war!”
“We are in the business of declaring truth, Mr. Ames,” she said gently. “The Express serves all people. It will not shield you when you are the willing tool of evil, nor will it condone your methods at any price.”
“War, eh? Very well,” he replied with a bantering smile. “I came over here this noon to get the policy of your paper. I accept your challenge.”
“Our challenge, Mr. Ames,” she returned, “is the challenge which evil always finds in good. It is perpetual.”
“Fine!” he exclaimed. “I like a good enemy, and an honest one. All right, marshal your forces. Who’s your general, Hitt or Haynerd?”
“God,” she answered simply.
For an instant the man was taken back. Then he recovered himself, and laughed.
“Do you know,” he said, bending close to her, “I admire you very much. You are a splendid little fighter. Now let’s see if we can’t get together on terms of peace. The world hasn’t used you right, and I don’t blame you for being at odds with it. I’ve wanted to talk with you about this for some time. The pin-headed society hens got jealous and tried to kill you. But, if you’ll just say the word, I’ll set you right up on the very pinnacle of social prestige here. I’ll take you by the hand and lead you down through the whole crowd of ’em, and knock ’em over right and left! I’ll make you the leading woman of the city; I’ll back the Express; we’ll make it the biggest newspaper in the country; I’ll make you and your friends rich and powerful; I’ll put you in the place that is rightfully yours, eh? Will you let me?”
He was bending ever nearer, and his hand closed over hers when he concluded. His eyes were looking eagerly into her face, and a smile, winning, enticing, full of meaning, played about his lips. His voice had dropped to a whisper.