Robert Barr

“ He has just come down, after dressing, and is in the drawing-room.
"I must see him at once," gasped Shorely. "It is a matter of life and death. Take me to the drawing-room."
The man, in some bewilderment, led him to the door of the drawing-room, and Shorely heard the sound of laughter from within. Thus ever are comedy and tragedy mingled. ”

“ He was a most uncertain man. "For your own good, and if you don't take this story, some one else will. It will make the fortune of the paper that secures it. Now, you read it while I wait. Here it is, typewritten, at one-and-three a thousand words, all to save your blessed eyesight."
Shorely took the manuscript and lit the gas, for it was getting dark. Gibberts sat down awhile, but soon began to pace the room, much to Shorely's manifest annoyance. Not content with this, he picked up the poker and noisily stirred the fire. ”

“ Gibberts began energetically to pace the room again, smiting his hands together. His face was in a glow of excitement.
"Yes, I have it now. The tragedy. Granting a murder like that, one man a dead shot, killing all the people in a country house; imagine it actually taking place. Wouldn't all England ring with it?"
"Naturally."
"Of course it would. Now, you listen to me. I'm going to commit that so-called crime. One week after you publish the story, I'm going down to that country house, Channor Chase. ”

“ The next time he saw the novelist was under circumstances that could never be effaced from his memory.
The Sponge was a sixteen-page paper, with a blue cover, and the week Gibberts' story appeared, it occupied the first seven pages. As Shorely ran it over in the paper, it impressed him more than it had done in manuscript. A story always seems more convincing in type.
Shorely met several men at the Club, who spoke highly of the story, and at last he began to believe it was a good one himself. Johnson was particularly enthusiastic, and every one in the Club knew Johnson's opinion was infallible. ”

“ While waiting for the express, Shorely bought a copy of the Sponge, and once more he read Gibberts' story on the way down. The third reading appalled him. He was amazed he had not noticed before the deadly earnestness of its tone. We are apt to underrate or overrate the work of a man with whom we are personally familiar. ”

“ Practice is everything. Now, about this story, will you——"
"I will not. As you are not an advertiser, I don't mind admitting to you that the paper is going down. You see it comes to the same thing. We haven't the money as you say, so what's the use of talking?"
Gibberts hitched his chair closer to the editor, and placed his hand on the other's knee. He went on earnestly—
"Now is the time to talk, Shorely. In a little while it will be too late. You will have thrown up the Sponge. Your great mistake is trying to ride two horses, each facing a different direction. It can't be done, my boy. ”

“ No man could go to a country house and slaughter every one in it. It's absurd."
Gibberts sprang from his seat and began to pace the room excitedly. Suddenly he stopped before his friend, towering over him, his long ulster making him look taller than he really was.
"Did I ever tell you the tragedy of my life? ”

“ He wanted the half-crown to become visible before he committed himself further.
"Here's half a sovereign, if you tell me how it can be done, short of hiring a special."
"Well, sir, you could take the express that leaves at the half-hour. It will carry you fifteen miles beyond Channor, to Buley Junction, then in seventeen minutes you can get a local back to Channor, which is due three minutes before the down train reaches there—if the local is in time," he added, when the gold piece was safe stowed in his pocket. ”