"Here is last week's issue," he said, handing to Spencer a small sixteen-page publication. The American glanced through it rapidly, while the editor sampled the beer. "I see," said Spencer, after he had found a column signed "H. W.," which consisted of paragraphs translated from a German article on airships,--"I see that 'The Firefly' scintillates around the Tree of Knowledge." The editor relaxed sufficiently to smile. "That is a good description of its weekly flights," he said. "You don't use many cuts?" "N-no. They are expensive and hard to obtain for such subjects as we favor." "Don't you think it would be a good notion to brighten it up a bit--put in something lively, and more in keeping with the name?" "I have no opening for new matter, if that is what you mean," and the editor stiffened again. "But you have the say-so as to the contents, I suppose?" "Oh, yes. The selection rests with me." "Good. I'm sort of interested in a young lady, Miss Helen Wynton by name. She lives in Warburton Gardens, and does work for you occasionally. Now, I propose to send her on a month's trip to Switzerland, where she will represent 'The Firefly.' You must get her to turn out a couple of pages of readable stuff each week, which you will have illustrated by a smart artist at a cost of say, twenty pounds an article for drawings and blocks. I pay all expenses, she gets the trip, and you secure some good copy for nothing. Is it a deal?" The editor sat down suddenly and combed his whiskers with nervous fingers. He was a weak man, and a too liberal beer diet was not good for him. "Are you in earnest, Mr. Spencer?" he queried in a bewildered way. "Dead in earnest. You write the necessary letter to Miss Wynton while I am here, and I hand you the first twenty in notes. You are to tell her to call Monday noon at any bank you may select, and she will be given her tickets and a hundred pounds. When I am certain that she has started I undertake to pay you a further sum of sixty pounds. I make only two conditions. You must guarantee to star her work, as it should help her some, and my identity must not be disclosed to her under any circumstances. In a word, she must regard herself as the accredited correspondent of 'The Firefly.' If she appears to be a trifle rattled by your generosity in the matter of terms, you must try and look as if you did that sort of thing occasionally and would like to do it often." The editor pushed his chair away from the table. He seemed to require more air. "Again I must ask you if you actually mean what you say?" he gasped.