Jennie Baxter, Journalist | Page 9

published
at any time?"
"Quite ready," answered the man.
"Very well," said the girl, with decision; "here are your fifty pounds.
Just count the money, and see that it is correct. I took the envelope as it
was handed to me, and have not examined the amount myself."
She poured the sovereigns out on the table, and Hazel, with trembling
fingers, counted them out two by two.
"That is quite right," he said, rising. He went to a drawer, unlocked it,
and took out a long blue envelope.
"There," he said, with a sigh that was almost a gasp. "There are the
figures, and a full explanation of them. You will be very careful that
my name does not slip out in any way."
"Certainly," said Miss Jennie, coolly drawing forth the papers from
their covering. "No one knows your name except Mr. Alder, Mr.
Hardwick, and myself; and I can assure you that I shall not mention it
to anyone."
She glanced rapidly over the documents.
"I shall just read what you have written," she said, looking up at him;
"and if there is anything here I do not understand you will, perhaps, be
good enough to explain it now,--and then I won't need to come here
again."
"Very well," said Hazel. The man had no suspicion that his visitor was

not a member of the staff of the paper he had been negotiating with.
She was so thoroughly self-possessed, and showed herself so familiar
with all details which had been discussed by Alder and himself that not
the slightest doubt had entered the clerk's mind.
Jennie read the documents with great haste, for she knew she was
running a risk in remaining there after seven o'clock. It might be that
Alder would come to Brixton to let the man know the result of his talk
with the editor, or Mr. Hardwick himself might have changed his mind,
and instructed his subordinate to secure the papers. Nevertheless, there
was no sign of hurry in Miss Jennie's demeanour as she placed the
papers back in their blue envelope and bade the anxious Hazel
good-bye.
Once more in the hansom, she ordered the man to drive her to Charing
Cross, and when she was ten minutes away from Rupert Square she
changed her direction and desired him to take her to the office of the
Evening Graphite, where she knew Mr. Stoneham would be busy with
his leading article, and probably impatiently awaiting further details of
the conspiracy he was to lay open before the public. A light was
burning in the editorial rooms of the office of the Evening Graphite,
always a suspicious thing in such an establishment, and well calculated
to cause the editor of any rival evening paper to tremble, should he
catch a glimpse of burning gas in a spot where the work of the day
should be finished at latest by five o'clock. Light in the room of the
evening journalist usually indicates that something important is on
hand.
A glance at the papers Miss Baxter brought to him showed Mr.
Stoneham that he had at least got the worth of his fifty pounds. There
would be a fluttering in high places next day. He made arrangements
before he left to have the paper issued a little earlier than was
customary, calculating his time with exactitude, so that rival sheets
could not have the news in their first edition, cribbed from the Graphite,
and yet the paper would be on the street, with the newsboys shouting,
"'Orrible scandal," before any other evening journal was visible. And
this was accomplished the following day with a precision truly

admirable.
Mr. Stoneham, with a craft worthy of all commendation, kept back
from the early issue a small fraction of the figures that were in his
possession, so that he might print them in the so-called fourth edition,
and thus put upon the second lot of contents--bills sent out, in huge,
startling black type, "Further Revelations of the Board of Construction
Scandal;" and his scathing leading article, in which he indignantly
demanded a Parliamentary inquiry into the conduct of the Board, was
recognized, even by the friends of that public body, as having seriously
shaken confidence in it. The reception of the news by the other evening
papers was most flattering. One or two ignored it altogether, others
alluded to it as a rumour, that it "alleged" so and so, and threw doubt on
its truth, which was precisely what Mr. Stoneham wished them to do,
as he was in a position to prove the accuracy of his statement.
Promptly, at five o'clock that afternoon a hansom containing Miss
Jennie Baxter drove up to the side entrance of the Daily Bugle office,
and the young woman once more accosted the Irish porter,