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"Honest, eh?" muttered the physician grimly as he twisted the "Clarion"
inside out. "Honest! Well, not to go any farther, what about this for honesty?"
Top of column, "next to reading," as its contract specified, the lure of the Neverfail Company stood forth, bold and black. "Boon to Troubled Womanhood" was the heading. Dr. Elliot read, with slow emphasis, the lying half-promises, the specious pretenses of the company's "Relief Pills." "No Case too Obstinate": "Suppression from Whatever Cause": "Thousands of Women have Cause to Bless this Sovereign Remedy": "Saved from Desperation."
"No doubt what that means, is there?" queried the reader.
"It seems pretty plain."
"What do you mean, then, by telling me you run an honest paper when you carry an abortion advertis.e.m.e.nt every day?"
"Will that medicine cause abortion?"
"Certainly it won't cause abortion!"
"Well, then."
"Can't you see that makes it all the worse, in a way? It promises to bring on abortion. It encourages any fool girl who otherwise might be withheld from vice by fear of consequences. It puts a weapon of argument into the hands of every rake and ruiner; 'If you get into trouble, this stuff will fix you all right.' How many suicides do you suppose your 'Boon to Womanhood' and its kind of h.e.l.lishness causes in a year, thanks to the help of your honest journalism?"
"When I said we were honest, I wasn't thinking of the advertising."
"But I am. Can you be honest on one page and a crook on another? Can you bang the big drum of righteousness in one column and promise falsely in the next to commit murder? Ellis, why does the 'Clarion' carry such stuff as that?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Well, you're asking me to help your sheet," the ex-surgeon reminded him.
"Because Dr. L. Andre Surtaine _is_ the Neverfail Company."
"Oh," said the other. "And I suppose Dr. L. Andre Surtaine _is_ the 'Clarion,' also. Well, I don't choose to be a.s.sociated with that honorable and high-minded polecat, thank you."
"Don't be too sure about the 'Clarion.' Harrington Surtaine isn't his father."
"The same rotten breed."
"Plus another strain. Where it comes from I don't know, but there's something in the boy that may work out to big ends."
Dr. Miles Elliot was an abrupt sort of person, as men of independent lives and thought are p.r.o.ne to be. "Look here, Ellis," he said: "are you trying to be honest, yourself? Now, don't answer till you've counted three."
"One--two--three," said McGuire Ellis solemnly. "I'm honestly trying to put the 'Clarion' on the level. That's what you really want to know, I suppose."
"Against all the weight of influence of Dr. Surtaine?"
"Bless you; he doesn't half realize he's a crook. Thinks he's a pretty fine sort of chap. The worst of it is, he _is_, too, in some ways."
"Good to his family, I suppose, in the intervals of distributing poison and lies."
"He's all wrapped up in the boy. Which is going to make it all the harder."
"Make what all the harder?"
"Prying 'em apart."
"Have you set yourself that little job?"
"Since we're speaking out in meeting, I have."
"Good. Why are you speaking out in meeting to me, particularly?"
"On the theory that you may have reason for being interested in Mr.
Harrington Surtaine."
"Don't know him."
"Your niece does."
"Just how does that concern this discussion?"
"What business is it of mine, you mean. Well, Dr. Elliot, I'm pretty much interested in trying to make a real newspaper out of the 'Clarion.'
My notion of a real newspaper is a decent, clean newspaper. If I can get my young boss to back me up, we'll have a try at my theory. To do this, I'll use any fair means. And if Miss Elliot's influence is going to be on my side, I'm glad to play it off against Dr. Surtaine's."
"Look here, Ellis, I don't like this a.s.sociation of my niece's name with young Surtaine."
"All right. I'll drop it, if you object. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know Miss Elliot, anyway. But sooner or later there's coming one big fight in the 'Clarion' office, and it's going to open two pairs of eyes. Old Doc Surtaine is going to discover his son. Hal Surtaine is going to find out about the old man. Neither of 'em is going to be awfully pleased. And in that ruction the fate of the Neverfail Company's ad. is going to be decided and with it the fate and character of the 'Clarion.' Now, Dr.
Elliot, my cards are on the table. Will you help me in the Rookeries matter?"
"What do you want me to do?"
"Go cautiously, and find out what that disease is."
"I'll go there to-morrow."
"They won't let you in."
"Won't they?" Dr. Elliot's jaw set.
"Don't risk it. Some of O'Farrell's thugs will pick a fight with you and the whole thing will be botched."
"How about getting a United States Public Health Surgeon down here?"
"Fine! Can you do it?"
"I think so. It will take time, though."
"That can't be helped. I'll look you up in a few days."
"All right. And, Ellis, if I can help in the other thing--the clean-up--I'm your man."
Meantime from his office Dr. Surtaine had, after several attempts, succeeded in getting the Medical Office of Canadaga County on the telephone.