I'll have an editorial in, too. 'We love him for the enemies he has made.'
How would that do for a heading?"
"Good. And now we'll have to look around for a candidate to put against
Mott. I'm hanged if I know where we'll find one."
Eaton had an inspiration.
"I do?"
"One that will run well, popular enough to catch the public fancy?"
"Yes."
"Who, then?"
"Waring Ridgway."
The owner of the name stared at his lieutenant in astonishment, but slowly
the fascination o the idea sank in.
"By Jove! Why not?"
CHAPTER 9. AN EVENING CALL
"Says you're to come right up, Mr. Ridgway," the bell-hop reported, and
after he had pocketed his tip, went sliding off across the polished floor
to answer another call.
The president of the Mesa Ore-producing Company turned with a good-humored
smile to the chief clerk.
"You overwork your boys, Johnson. I wasn't through with that one. I'll have
to ask you to send another up to show me the Harley suite."
They passed muster under the eye of the chief detective, and, after the
bell-boy had rung, were admitted to the private parlor where Simon Harley
lay stretched on a lounge with his wife beside him.
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