CHAPTER I.
A NEWSPAPER STORY
On the fourteenth day of August, 19--, a tiny paragraph appeared at the foot of an unimportant page in London's most sober journal to the effect that the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs had been much annoyed by the receipt of a number of threatening letters, and was prepared to pay a reward of fifty pounds to any person who would give such information as would lead to the apprehension and conviction of the person or persons, etc. The few people who read London's most sober journal thought, in their ponderous Athenaeum Club way, that it was a remarkable thing that a Minister of State should be annoyed at anything; more remarkable that he should advertise his annoyance, and most remarkable of all that he could imagine for one minute that the offer of a reward would put a stop to the annoyance.
News editors of less sober but larger circulated newspapers, wearily scanning the dull columns of Old Sobriety, read the paragraph with a newly acquired interest.
"Hullo, what's this?" asked Smiles of the Comet, and cut out the paragraph with huge shears, pasted it upon a sheet of copy-paper and headed it:
Who is Sir Philip's Correspondent?
As an afterthought--the Comet being in Opposition-- he prefixed an introductory paragraph, humorously suggesting that the letters were from an intelligent electorate grown tired of the shilly-shallying methods of the Government.
The news editor of the Evening World--a white-haired gentleman of deliberate movement--read the paragraph twice, cut it out carefully, read it again and, placing it under a paperweight, very soon forgot all about it.
The news editor of the Megaphone, which is a very bright newspaper indeed, cut the paragraph as he read it, rang a bell, called a reporter, all in a breath, so to speak, and issued a few terse instructions.
"Go down to Portland Place, try to see Sir Philip Ramon, secure the story of that paragraph--why he is threatened, what he is threatened with; get a copy of one of the letters if you can. If you cannot see Ramon, get hold of a secretary."
And the obedient reporter went forth.
He returned in an hour in that state of mysterious agitation peculiar to the reporter who has got a 'beat'. The news editor duly reported to the Editor-in-Chief, and that great man said, "That's very good, that's very good indeed"--which was praise of the highest order.
What was 'very good indeed' about the reporter's story may be gathered from the half-column that appeared in the Megaphone on the following day:
CABINET MINISTER IN DANGER
THREATS TO MURDER THE FOREIGN SECRETARY
'THE FOUR JUST MEN'
PLOT TO ARREST THE PASSAGE OF THE
ALIENS EXTRADITION BILL --
EXTRAORDINARY REVELATIONS
Considerable comment was excited by the appearance in the news columns of yesterday's National Journal of the following paragraph:
The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs (Sir Philip Ramon) has during the past few weeks been the recipient of threatening letters, all apparently emanating from one source and written by one person. These letters are of such a character that they cannot be ignored by his Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, who hereby offers a reward of Fifty pounds (L50) to any person or persons, other than the actual writer, who will lay such information as will lead to the apprehension and conviction of the author of these anonymous letters.
So unusual was such an announcement, remembering that anonymous and threatening letters are usually to be found daily in the letter-bags of every statesman and diplomat, that the Daily Megaphone immediately instituted inquiries as to the cause for this u
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