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Newspaper Page Text
"I didn't want you to take it," said
the assistant "You agreed with me
it wasn't worth much.'
"I agreed with you," replied the ed
itor, "but I told you it was clear that
Mr. Hughes was a young man of
promise and that it would be well to
encourage him in view of getting his
future work. What do you think of tf
this bunch?" And he tossed the let
ters over the table to Jennings, who
read them thoughtfully.
"Sad, very sad," said Jennings, "to
"I I Don't Know," Said Mr. Alvis.
By George Munson
The editor of the Slap-Dash
Monthly was looking thoughtfully
over a pile of typewritten letters on
his desk. He noticed a strange sim
ilarity about them. All united in
praising the recent serial story by
Oliver Hughes, the brilliant young
writer whom he had "found."
One was from a woman in Michi
gan and ran, in part, as follows:
"Won't you please give us more
stories by Oliver Hughes? They are
the best I have seen in years. My
husband and I, who used to live so
affectionately together, now quarrel
every week as to which shall get the
Slap-Dash Monthly first. I consider
that Mr. Hughes' stories are an in
spiration to everybody."
Another letter was from a fellow
"Say, bo," it began breezily, "you
hand out them Oliver Hughes stories
regular or I'll can your old mag.
Them's the kind of stuff we wants.
Red blood and plenty of it"
A third letter, from a school teach
er in Massachusetts, went thus:
"Although my lot is cast in the
quiet paths of life, I am susceptible
to the call of the great adventurous
world and I cannot resist the temp
tation to let you know what splendid
stories Mr. Hughes' are."
Another was from a prisoner in a
"Dear editor," it ran, "us poor guys
who are shut up from sun and air in
a noisome dungeon don't often get a
chance to read your magazine, but I
write to say Oliver Hughes' stories
is an inspiration to me to lead a new
life when I get free. Give us some
more and plenty of them."
"Strange," muttered the editor,
and turned to his assistant. "Did you
see anything remarkable in Oliver
Hughes' story?" he asked. ,
think that our promising young man
should be a faker."
"Yes. Mr. Hughes will have to be
canned," said the editor. "I'd stand
for it in some people, but not in a
young man we've taken up and tried
to help. Here's his second story. It's
first class, but it's going back now."
The same evening, as Miss Mar
gery Gibson was seated in the par
lor, after having dismissed her father
and mother to the dining room,
young Mr. Hughes called upon her
with a dejected mien, and ajarge, flat