thousand pounds insurance, tied up in such a way that it would look
lavishly generous to the constant reader, and yet be impossible to
collect if a disaster really occurred.

In the midst of his meditations a clerk entered and announced--"Mr.
Bromley Gibberts."

"Tell him I'm busy just now--tell him I'm engaged," said the editor,
while the perplexed frown deepened on his brow.

The clerk's conscience; however, was never burdened with that message,
for Gibberts entered, with a long ulster coat flapping about his heels.

"That's all right," said Gibberts, waving his hand at the boy, who
stood with open mouth, appalled at the intrusion. "You heard what Mr.
Shorely said. He's engaged. Therefore let no one enter. Get out."

The boy departed, closing the door after him. Gibberts turned the key
in the lock, and then sat down.

"There," he said; "now we can talk unmolested, Shorely. I should think
you would be pestered to death by all manner of idiots who come in and
interrupt you."

"I am," said the editor, shortly.

"Then take my plan, and lock your door. Communicate with the outer
office through a speaking-tube. I see you are down-hearted, so I have
come to cheer you up. I've brought you a story, my boy."