Humbly he owned that his sense of outrage had carried him completely away. He should have remembered that Mr. Hartz was her patron and friend. A naïf, almost boyish apology, bound her wound, wiped away her tears. His outburst was freely forgiven. Perhaps it was forgiven the more freely inasmuch as Helen felt quite sure in her own mind that she would soon be able to clear one hero of the charges brought against him by the other. IV “I’ll ring up the office at once.” Helen rose impulsively. “They must know what a dreadful blunder the U. P. reporter has made. I’ll get through if I can to Mr. Gage, the editor, and tell him that on no account must the _Planet_ come out with the speech in that form. I’ll also get through to Mr. Jevons, the chief editor of the U. P., and ask him to lose no time in withdrawing their version, and circulating an absolute contradiction. And as soon as I see the Chief himself, which should be to-morrow morning at eleven o’clock, I’ll ask him personally to do what he can to put things right.” John Endor pressed her hand. It was more than homage to the woman he loved, it was a tribute, almost involuntary, to her decision, her fine capacity, her clear good sense. Of the Colossus it had been said that his fairy godmother had given him a rare faculty of choosing the heaven-sent instrument. Even in the sight of John Endor this able woman had never shone quite so much as in this crisis. Forsaking a favorite iced pudding and hot chocolate sauce, she went there and then to the telephone box. Endor, alone at the table, sat a picture of dismay. He had a full share of the egoism inseparable from a man who believes intensely in himself. It was his sense of election that lay at the root of his power. He was an elemental besides; his mind was a thing of wide curves, moving on broad lines of right and wrong. For one in essence so primitive, it would have been hard to exaggerate the force of the blow. The enemy was out in the open at last. Sitting there in a thrall of sudden darkness, that was his thought. The Colossus to whom in the spirit of Sir Galahad he had offered battle was known as a deadly and a subtle foe. To such an extent had he centralized power, so absolute was his control of the wires, to such perfection had he brought his “stunts,” his “propaganda,” and all the rest of the paraphernalia, which so easily fouled public opinion at its source, that it was said that he could kill a reputation as easily as he could make one.