Denis Quirk noted the absence of the customary suavity and deference in the way in which Gerard addressed him.
"Right you are! Come to me in five minutes for your cheque. You have saved yourself dismissal," he said.
"Are you dismissing the whole staff?" asked Gerard.
"Only the useless ones," replied Denis quietly, as he entered the room.
"Your cheque—and the door, you durned skunk!" he said, five minutes later. Gerard was on the point of retorting furiously, but one look at the strong, ugly face and sturdy figure convinced him of the wisdom of silence until he was actually on the doorstep of the office. Then he said:
"You will have to deal with me yet, Mr. Denis Quirk."
"I am quite capable of doing that," replied Denis, smilingly.
Thus did "The Mercury" lose its first sporting editor.
In the quiet of his office Denis Quirk sat for fully five minutes thinking, a most unusual thing for him to do, and, more unusual still, thinking of a woman. He checked himself abruptly with the half-muttered words: