CHAPTER XIII.
A WHOLE CITY STIRRED.
The editor of one of the leading morning papers of R—— sat at his desk one afternoon, knitting his brows as he read a document spread out before him. Having finished reading it once, he began the second reading, wearing on his face the same intent expression. Having concluded the second reading, he laid the article down, rested his head on the back of his chair and closed his eyes as if in deep meditation. After a few moments' reflection he decided upon the third reading of the document. When he had finished this last perusal, he went to the telephone and summoned Dorlan Warthell to an immediate conference with him. Dorlan soon arrived and was ushered into the editors's private office.
"Be seated," said the editor, in a most cordial manner. "Mr. Warthell," said he, "I have read your document the third time and I now desire to ask you two questions. The character of your answers to them will determine whether I shall propound to you a third." Looking earnestly into Dorlan's face, he enquired, "Was it your desire and expectation that this article should be published?"
"Most assuredly," said Dorlan, manifesting surprise that the editor should deem it necessary to ask such a question.
"Again," said the editor, "are you well acquainted with the moods of your people?"
"It is my impression that few men have studied them more earnestly than I have," said Dorlan.
"I see that I must ask my third question. Thinking that your article would be published, knowing your people, have you exercised foresight enough to have your life insured? If you have not, fail not to do so to-night; for a straw in a whirlwind will account itself blessed in comparison with your lot after this article appears to-morrow morning," said the editor.
"I am content to abide by the consequences of my act," said Dorlan, quietly.
"Your blood be upon your own head," said the editor. This brought the interview to a close and Dorlan took his departure.