"Then you didn't get to the bottom of what it was?" the other asked eagerly.
"No, I didn't. Something about the King of somewhere and a row in the office. Anyway, the whole of the staff up in the composing-room are working with closed doors, so that no hated rival shall get a sniff of what is going on. We are evidently in for a big sensation."
Lechmere waited for no more; he gripped his opportunity with both hands. He advanced along the corridor to where the two men were talking, and asked what floor Mr. Hunt's office was on. The two men looked at him with something of admiration on their faces. Hunt was a martinet in his office, and difficult of access at all times.
"Second floor on the right," one of the reporters said with a wink at his companion. "Don't knock, but walk right in. Hunt is always glad to see visitors at this hour. It is a refreshing change after the grind of the night. He'll be quite pleased to see you."
Lechmere grimly expressed his thanks, though the sarcastic force of the words and the wink were not lost on him. He was here to see Hunt, and he was going to do it at any cost. He made his way up the staircase and along to the second floor, where a door with the name of Hunt in large letters attracted his eye. The door of the room was shut, but Lechmere walked in.
The room was empty for the moment. The floor was littered with paper and proofs; on the desk a slip of galley proof lay. The heading attracted Lechmere's attention, and he whistled. Then he sat calmly down to await Mr. Hunt's return. He had no undue trial of his patience, for a moment later the editor of the Mercury bustled into the room.
There was a pleased smile on his face; he seemed to be on the best of terms with himself. But the smile faded away, and the mean, eager face grew anxious as Hunt detected the presence of his visitor.
"Now this is really too bad, Mr. Lechmere," he protested. Lechmere did not fail to notice the agitation of the speaker's voice. "Of course, I had your card. I sent a message down for you. If you had been the king I would not have seen you to-night. I never see anybody after twelve o'clock. I repeat, if you had been the king I should have had to refuse you an audience."
"Sounds exceedingly impressive, not to say regal," Lechmere remarked in a dry tone, and without the slightest suggestion of an apology. "What king do you happen to mean?"
"Why, the King of England, of course," Hunt puffed. "Any living king, as a matter of fact."