companion.

"There's somethin' about that that fetches you spinnin' through the air,"
he said slowly. "Sh-showed it to Jim Willard, editor of the Newcastle
Guardian. Er--what do you think he said?"

"I don't know," said Wetherell, in a low voice.

"Willard said, 'Bass, w-wish you'd find me that man. I'll give him five
dollars every week for a letter like that--er--five dollars a week.'"

He paused, folded up the paper again and put it in his pocket, took out a
card and handed it to Wetherell.

James G. Willard, Editor.
Newcastle Guardian.

"That's his address," said Jethro. "Er--guess you'll know what to do with
it. Er--five dollars a week--five dollars a week."

"How did you know I wrote this article?" said Wetherell, as the card
trembled between his fingers.

"K-knowed the place was Coniston seen from the 'east, knowed there wahn't
any one is Brampton or Harwich could have done it--g-guessed the
rest--guessed the rest."

Wetherell could only stare at him like a man who, with the halter about
his neck, has been suddenly reprieved. But Jethro Bass did not appear to
be waiting for thanks. He cleared his throat, and had Wetherell not been