Jennie Baxter, Journalist | Page 8

sheets do not seem to reflect that anxiety."
"So, you see," continued Miss Jennie, unheeding his satirical comment, "there is no time to be lost; in fact, I should be on my way now to where this man lives."
"Here we are at the office, and I shall just run in and write a cheque for fifty pounds, which we can perhaps get cashed somewhere," cried the editor, calling the hansom to a halt and stepping out.
"Tell the watchman to bring me a London Directory," said the girl, and presently that useful guardian came out with the huge red volume, which Miss Baxter placed on her knees, and, with a celerity that comes of long practice, turned over the leaves rapidly, running her finger quickly down the H column, in which the name "Hazel" was to be found. At last she came to one designated as being a clerk in the office of the Board of Public Construction, and his residence was 17, Rupert Square, Brixton. She put this address down in her notebook and handed back the volume to the waiting watchman, as the editor came out with the cheque in his hand.
The shrewd and energetic dealer in coins, whose little office stands at the exit from Charing Cross Station, proved quite willing to oblige the editor of the Evening Graphite with fifty sovereigns in exchange for the bit of paper, and the editor, handing to Miss Jennie the envelope containing the gold, saw her drive off for Brixton, while he turned, not to resume his game of dominoes at the caf��, but to his office, to write the leader which would express in good set terms the horror he felt at the action of the Board of Public Construction.
CHAPTER III.
JENNIE INTERVIEWS A FRIGHTENED OFFICIAL.
It was a little past seven o'clock when Miss Baxter's hansom drove up to the two-storeyed house in Rupert Square numbered 17. She knocked at the door, and it was speedily opened by a man with some trace of anxiety on his clouded face, who proved to be Hazel himself, the clerk at the Board of Public Construction. "You are Mr. Hazel?" she ventured, on entering.
"Yes," replied the man, quite evidently surprised at seeing a lady instead of the man he was expecting at that hour; "but I am afraid I shall have to ask you to excuse me; I am waiting for a visitor who is a few minutes late, and who may be here at any moment."
"You are waiting for Mr. Alder, are you not?"
"Yes," stammered the man, his expression of surprise giving place to one of consternation.
"Oh, well, that is all right," said Miss Jennie, reassuringly. "I have just driven from the office of the Daily Bugle. Mr. Alder cannot come to-night."
"Ah," said Hazel, closing the door. "Then are you here in his place?"
"I am here instead of him. Mr. Alder is on other business that he had to attend to at the editor's request. Now, Mr. Hardwick--that's the editor, you know----"
"Yes, I know," answered Hazel.
They were by this time seated in the front parlour.
"Well, Mr. Hardwick is very anxious that the figures should be given with absolute accuracy."
"Of course, that would be much better," cried the man; "but, you see, I have gone thoroughly into the question with Mr. Alder already. He said he would mention what I told him to the editor--put my position before him, in fact."
"Oh, he has done so," said Miss Baxter, "and did it very effectively indeed; in fact, your reasons are quite unanswerable. You fear, of course, that you will lose your situation, and that is very important, and no one in the Bugle office wishes you to suffer for what you have done. Of course, it is all in the public interest."
"Of course, of course," murmured Hazel, looking down on the table.
"Well, have you all the documents ready, so that they can be 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