“I always insist on accuracy,” he said, “and lack of it is one of Alder’s failings.”
“Nevertheless, Mr. Hardwick, you have lost one of your best men. How are you going to replace him?” inquired the proprietor anxiously.
“There is little difficulty in replacing even the best man on any staff in London,” replied Hardwick, with a glance at Miss Baxter. “As this young lady seems to keep her wits about her when the welfare of her paper is concerned, I shall, if you have no objection, fill Henry Alder’s place with Miss Baxter?”
Mr. Hempstead arched his eyebrows a trifle, and looked at the girl in some doubt.
“I thought you didn’t believe in women journalists, Mr. Hardwick,” he murmured at last.
“I didn’t up till to-day, but since the evening papers came out I have had reason to change my mind. I should much rather have Miss Baxter for me than against me.”
“Do you think you can fill the position, Miss Baxter?” asked the proprietor, doubtingly.
“Oh, I, am sure of it,” answered the girl. “I have long wanted a place on a well-edited paper like the Bugle.” Again Mr. Hardwick smiled grimly. The proprietor turned to him, and said, “I don’t quite see, Mr. Hardwick, what a lady can do on this paper outside of the regular departments.”
“I hardly think there will be any trouble about that, Mr. Hempstead. For example, who could be better equipped to attempt the solution of that knotty question about the Princess von Steinheimer’s diamonds?”
“By Jove!” cried Hempstead, his eyes glittering with excitement. “That is an inspiration. I imagine that if anyone can unravel the mystery, it is Miss Baxter.”