Mutual Life. Now, Jameson, I want you to find Taylor Dodge, the
president, and interview him. Get what you can, at any cost."

I had naturally thought first of Kennedy, but there was no time
now to call him up and, besides, I must see Dodge immediately.

Dodge, I discovered over the telephone, was not at home, nor at
any of the clubs to which he belonged. Late though it was I
concluded that he was at his office. No amount of persuasion could
get me past the door, and, though I found out later and shall tell
soon what was going on there, I determined, about nine o'clock,
that the best way to get at Dodge was to go to his house on Fifth
Avenue, if I had to camp on his front doorstep until morning. The
harder I found the story to get, the more I wanted it.

With some misgivings about being admitted, I rang the bell of the
splendid, though not very modern, Dodge residence. An English
butler, with a nose that must have been his fortune, opened the
door and gravely informed me that Mr. Dodge was not at home, but
was expected at any moment.

Once in, I was not going lightly to give up that advantage. I
bethought myself of his daughter, Elaine, one of the most popular
debutantes of the season, and sent in my card to her, on a chance
of interesting her and seeing her father, writing on the bottom of
the card: "Would like to interview Mr. Dodge regarding Clutching
Hand."

Summoning up what assurance I had, which is sometimes
considerable, I followed the butler down the hall as he bore my