“Yes,” replied Mr. Bodery absently. He was glancing at the pile of letters that lay upon his desk. There were among them one or two telegrams, and these he put to one side while he took up each envelope in succession to examine the address, throwing it down again unopened. At length he turned again to the telegrams, and picked up the top one. He was about to tear open the envelope when there was a sharp knock at the door. “'M'in!” said Mr. Morgan sharply, and at the same moment the silent door was thrown open. The diminutive form of the boy stood in the aperture. “Gentleman to see you, sir,” he said, with great solemnity. “What name?” asked Mr. Bodery. “Wouldn't give his name, sir--said you didn't know it, sir.” Even this small office-boy was allowed his quantum of discretionary power. It rested with him whether an unknown visitor was admitted or politely dismissed to a much greater extent than any one suspected. Into his manner of announcing a person he somehow managed to convey his opinion as to whether it was worth the editor's time to admit him or not, and he invariably received Mr. Bodery's “Tell him I'm engaged” with a little nod of mutual understanding which was intensely comprehensive. On this occasion, his manner said, “Have him in, have him in my boy, and you will find it worth your while.” “Show him in,” said Mr. Bodery. The nameless gentleman must have been at the door upon the boy's heels, for no sooner had the words left Mr. Bodery's lips than a tall, dark form slid into the room. So noiseless and rapid were this gentleman's movements that there is no other word with which to express his mode of progression. He made a low bow, and shot up erect again with startling rapidity. He then stood quietly waiting until the door had closed behind the small boy, who, after having punctiliously expectorated upon a silver coin which had found its way into the palm of his hand, proceeded to slide down the balustrade upon his waistcoat. It often occurred that strangers addressed themselves to Mr. Morgan when ushered into the little back room, under the impression that he was the editor of the _Beacon_. Not so, however, this tall, clean-shaven person. He fixed his peculiar light-blue eyes upon Mr. Bodery, and, with a slight inclination, said suavely-- “This, sir, is, I believe, your printing day?” “It is, sir, and a busy day with us,” replied the editor, with no great warmth of manner. “Would it be possible now,” inquired the stranger conversationally, “at this late hour, to remove a printed article and substitute another?” At these words Mr. Morgan ceased making some pencil notes with which he was occupied, and looked up. He met the stranger's benign glance and, while still looking at him, deliberately turned over all the proof-sheets before him, leaving no printed matter exposed to the gaze of the curious. Mr. Bodery had in the meantime consulted his watch.