Hints, slurs, innuendoes."
"Libel does not exist when--" feebly began the editor, and stopped
because Banneker was laughing at him.
"Suppose you read that," said the visitor, contemptuously tossing the
typed script of his new-wrought editorial on the desk. "_That's_
libellous, if you choose. But I don't think you would sue."
Major Bussey read the caption, a typical Banneker eye-catcher, "The
Rattlesnake Dies Out; But the Pen-Viper is Still With Us." "I don't care
to indulge myself with your literary efforts at present, Mr. Banneker,"
he said languidly. "Is this the answer to our paragraph?"
"Only the beginning. I propose to drive you out of town and suppress
'The Searchlight.'"
"A fair challenge. I'll accept it."
"I was prepared to have you take that attitude."
"Really, Mr. Banneker; you could hardly expect to come here and
blackmail me by threats--"
"Now for my alternative," proceeded the visitor calmly. "You are
proposing to publish a slur on the reputation of an innocent woman
who--"
"Innocent!" murmured the Major with malign relish.
"Look out, Major!" implored Con, the body-guard. "He's a killer, he is."
"I don't know that I'm particularly afraid of you, after all," declared
the exponent of The Searchlight, and Banneker felt a twinge of dismay
lest he might have derived, somewhence, an access of courage.
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