"I have read that book myself," ventured the man. "I always read a book that I sell more than twenty copies of in one day."
Hemming glowed, and continued his scrutiny of the volume. On one of the first pages was printed, "Authorized American Edition." The name of the publishers was S——'s Sons.
"Where do S——'s Sons hang out?" he asked, as he paid for the book.
"Just five doors below this," said the man.
"I'll look in there," decided Hemming, "before I call on Dodder."
The war correspondent was cordially received by the head of the great publishing house. He was given a comprehensive account of the arrangements made between his London and New York publishers, and these proved decidedly satisfactory. The business talk over, Hemming prepared to go.
"I hope you will look me up again before you leave town," said the head of the firm, as they shook hands.
Arrived in the outer office of the New York News Syndicate, Hemming inquired for Mr. Dodder. The clerk stared at him with so strange an expression that his temper suffered.
"Well, what the devil is the matter?" he exclaimed.
"Mr. Dodder is dead," replied the youth. Just then Wells came from an inner room, caught sight of the Englishman, and approached.