“Meaning Morrison?”
“Meaning Morrison. Incidentally, if we get him we’ll be able to kill the Personal Liberty bill so dead it will never raise its head again.”
“Then I’m for that course,” decided the editor, after a little consideration, “though I can’t yet make myself believe that Carroll Morrison is party to a deliberate murder plot.”
“How the normal mind does shrink from connecting crime with good clothes and a social position!” remarked the Ad-Visor. “Just give me a moment’s time.”
The moment he spent jotting down words on a bit of paper, which, after some emendation, he put away.
“That’ll do for a heading,” he remarked. “Now, Waldemar, I want you to get the governor on the ’phone and tell him, if he’ll follow directions, we’ll put the personal liberty bill where the wicked cease from troubling. Morrison is to be in the reviewing stand, isn’t he?”
“Yes; there’s a special place reserved for him, next the press seats.”
“Good! By the way, you’d better send for two press seats for you and myself. Now, what I want: the governor to do is this: get a copy of the Harrisonia Evening Bell, fold it to an advertisement headed ‘Offer to Photographers,’ and as he passes Carroll Morrison on the stand, hold it up and say to him just this: ‘Better luck next time.’ For anything further, I’ll see you in the reviewing stand. Do you think he’ll do it?”
“It sounds as foolish as a college initiation stunt. Still, you heard what Governor Arthur said about his confidence in you. But what is this advertisement?”
“As yet, it isn’t. But it will be, as soon as I can get to the office of the Bell. You’ll meet me on this corner at seven o’clock, then?”