“Your announcement of withdrawal. I’d rather print that than the Arbuthnot story.”
There was a long silence. Finally the Honorable Linder dropped his hand on the table. “You win,” he declared curtly. “But you’ll give me the benefit, in the announcement, of bad health caused by the shock of the explosion, to explain my quitting, Waldemar?”
“It will certainly make it more plausible,” assented the newspaper owner with a smile.
Linder turned on Average Jones.
“Did you dope this out, young fellow?” he demanded.
“Yes.”
“Well, you’ve put me in the Down-and-Out-Club, all right. And I’m just curious enough to want to know how you did it.”
“By abstaining,” returned Average Jones cryptically, “from the best wine that ever came out of the Cosmic Club cellar.”
CHAPTER II. RED DOT
From his inner sanctum, Average Jones stared obliquely out upon the whirl of Fifth Avenue, warming itself under a late March sun.