of Messrs. Herring, Beemer, & Chadwick when they made their verbal
agreement with Harley.

"Make it go with the girls, Harley," Mr. Chadwick had said. "Men
haven't time to read anything but the newspapers in this country.
Hit the girls, and your fortune is made."

Harley didn't exactly see how his fortune was going to be made on the
best terms of Messrs. Herring, Beemer, & Chadwick, even if he hit the
girls with all the force of a battering-ram, but he promised to keep
the idea in mind, and remained in his trance a trifle longer than
might otherwise have been necessary, endeavoring to select the
unquestionably correct hero for his story, and Osborne was the
result. Osborne was moderately witty. His repartee smacked somewhat
of the refined comic paper--that is to say, it was smart and cynical,
and not always suited to the picture; but it wasn't vulgar or dull,
and his personal appearance was calculated to arouse the liveliest
interest. He was clean shaven and clean cut. He looked more like a
modern ideal of infallible genius than Byron, and had probably played
football and the banjo in college--Harley did not go back that far
with him--all of which, it must be admitted, was pretty well
calculated to assure the fulfilment of Harley's promise that the man
should please the American girl. Of course the story was provided
with a villain also, but he was a villain of a mild type. Mild
villany was an essential part of Harley's literary creed, and this
particular person was not conceived in heresy. His name was to have
been Horace Balderstone, and with him Harley intended to introduce a
lively satire on the employment, by certain contemporary writers, of
the supernatural to produce dramatic effects. Balderstone was of
course to be the rival of Osborne. In this respect Harley was