ease. Luella Granville Waterman must go."     

       "How do you mean?"     

       "She must go," repeated Psmith firmly. "Your first act, now that you have swiped the editorial chair, must be to sack her."     

       "But, say, I can't. The editor thinks a heap of her stuff."     

       "We cannot help his troubles. We must act for the good of the paper. Moreover, you said, I think, that he was away?"     

       "So he is. But he'll come back."     

       "Sufficient unto the day, Comrade Windsor. I have a suspicion that he will be the first to approve your action. His holiday will have cleared his brain. Make a note of improvement number one—the sacking of Luella Granville Waterman."     

       "I guess it'll be followed pretty quick by improvement number two—the sacking of William Windsor. I can't go monkeying about with the paper that way."     

       Psmith reflected for a moment.     

       "Has this job of yours any special attractions for you, Comrade Windsor?"     

       "I guess not."     

       "As I suspected. You yearn for scope. What exactly are your ambitions?"     

       "I want to get a job on one of the big dailies. I don't see how I'm going to fix it, though, at the present rate."     

       Psmith rose, and tapped him earnestly on the chest.     

       "Comrade Windsor, you have touched the spot. You are wasting the golden hours of your youth. You must move. You must hustle. You must make Windsor of Cosy Moments a name to conjure with. You must boost this sheet up till New York rings with your exploits. On the present lines that is impossible. You must strike out a line for yourself. You must show the world that even Cosy Moments cannot keep a good man down."     

       He resumed his seat.     

       "How do you mean?" said Billy Windsor.     

       Psmith 

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