hear of such unmitigated gall?"

"These American reporters are capable of acting very shrewdly on occasions," said Olinski, whose brain seemed to be clearing somewhat.

"And so am I," thundered Henry. He tore the telegram into a thousand bits and scattered them over his own and Olinski's head. "I shall ignore his message," he continued. "Any sort of garbled, advance publicity will entirely spoil the effect of the news of our discovery. We shall announce it the day before the demonstration, so that it will come like a thunder-clap, and echo from one end of the world to the other."

"Still, our position, as far as this reporter, McGinity, is concerned, is very difficult," Olinski remarked, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. "Some one, unbeknown to us, has, what you Americans call, 'tipped' his paper off. He may publish the rumor without the facts, which would be ruinous."

"He wouldn't dare!" Henry cried, hotly. "Besides, he has no facts to go on. How could he have? It's too tremendous for the human mind to grasp, without the main facts leading up to our discovery. With all our precaution for secrecy, how in the world could this reporter find out that we have not only received, but decoded, these strange radio messages from Mars, and definitely exchanged messages by short waves with a race of people as human as ourselves? He's trying to trick me into giving him the facts, as he did with my discovery of the comet. I'll bet you a million, he doesn't know what it's all about--hasn't the remotest idea--"

Olinski interrupted by lifting a finger to his lips, and giving a prolonged, "Shh!"

"Why the devil shouldn't I talk as I like?" Henry retorted, defiantly. On second thought, however, he glanced round the hall. Niki was just moving towards the front door, near which the district messenger still stood, patiently waiting for the telegram to be signed for; shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another, and staring curiously, from under the rim of his rubber hat, at the various objects of art in the hall. Two suits of armor, on either side of the fire-place, seemed to hold his attention.

Leaning over towards Olinski, Henry voiced his growing suspicions in a low tone. "You don't imagine that this messenger boy wanted to listen, do you? Or had any motive in listening?"

He had no sooner spoken when he sprang from his chair, as if some idea, an intuition, had flashed across his mind. He started towards the front door, 

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