at his desk, musing pleasantly of life, when a bullet crashed
through the window and embedded itself in the wall at the back of
his head. A happy smile lit up the editor's face. "Ah," he said
complacently, "I knew that Personal column of ours was going to be
a success!"

What the bullet was to the Far West editor, the visit of Mr.
Francis Parker to the offices of _Cosy Moments_ was to Billy Windsor.

It occurred in the third week of the new _régime_ of the paper.
_Cosy Moments_, under its new management, had bounded ahead like a
motor-car when the throttle is opened. Incessant work had been the
order of the day. Billy Windsor's hair had become more dishevelled
than ever, and even Psmith had at moments lost a certain amount of
his dignified calm. Sandwiched in between the painful case of Kid
Brady and the matter of the tenements, which formed the star items
of the paper's contents, was a mass of bright reading dealing with
the events of the day. Billy Windsor's newspaper friends had turned
in some fine, snappy stuff in their best Yellow Journal manner,
relating to the more stirring happenings in the city. Psmith, who
had constituted himself guardian of the literary and dramatic
interests of the paper, had employed his gift of general invective
to considerable effect, as was shown by a conversation between
Master Maloney and a visitor one morning, heard through the open
door.

"I wish to see the editor of this paper," said the visitor.

"Editor not in," said Master Maloney, untruthfully.