four-line notes had appeared in all of the daily newspapers.
These he had arranged for by the aid of one of his newspaper
friends on the "Times," Mr. Harry McGarren, the managing editor.

"Say, Harry," Hurstwood said to him one evening, as the latter
stood at the bar drinking before wending his belated way
homeward, "you can help the boys out, I guess."

"What is it?" said McGarren, pleased to be consulted by the
opulent manager.

"The Custer Lodge is getting up a little entertainment for their
own good, and they'd like a little newspaper notice. You know
what I mean--a squib or two saying that it's going to take
place."

"Certainly," said McGarren, "I can fix that for you, George."

At the same time Hurstwood kept himself wholly in the background.
The members of Custer Lodge could scarcely understand why their
little affair was taking so well. Mr. Harry Quincel was looked
upon as quite a star for this sort of work.

By the time the 16th had arrived Hurstwood's friends had rallied
like Romans to a senator's call. A well-dressed, good-natured,
flatteringly-inclined audience was assured from the moment he
thought of assisting Carrie.

That little student had mastered her part to her own
satisfaction, much as she trembled for her fate when she should