My name was called; the night City Editor had an assignment for me. "Goup to Sim Peck's, on Madison Street," he exclaimed. "He thinks he's gotsomething on David Beasley, but won't say any more over the telephone.See what there is in it."

I picked up my hat and coat, and left the office at a speed which musthave given my superior the highest conception of my journalistic zeal.At a telephone station on the next corner I called up Mrs.Apperthwaite's home and asked for Dowden.