"I'm amazed even Banghurst—" said my cousin Melville.
"It's in the Daily Gunfire as well," said the older of the two emergency journalists.
"What's one more or less of these ha'penny fever rags?" cried my cousin with a ringing scorn. "Surely you're not going to take your Folkestone news from mere London papers."
"But how did the story come about?" began the older emergency journalist.
"That's not my affair."
The younger emergency journalist had an inspiration. He produced a note book from his breast pocket. Perhaps, sir, you wouldn't mind suggesting to us something we might say———"
My cousin Melville complied.
II
The rising young journalist who had first got wind of the business—who must not for a moment be confused with the two emergency journalists heretofore described—came to Banghurst next night in a state of strange exultation. "I've been through with it and I've seen her," he panted. "I waited about outside and saw her taken into the carriage. I've talked to one of the maids—I got into the house under pretence of being a telephone man to see their telephone—I spotted the wire—and it's a fact. A positive fact—she's a mermaid with a tail—a proper mermaid's tail. I've got here———"
He displayed sheets.
"Whaddyer talking about?" said Banghurst from
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