Publish McCune papers so labelled which H.
Fisbee will hand you.

Letter follows.

Beat McCune.
"JOHN HARKLESS." The author of the curt epistles tossed restlessly on his couch, but the reader of them stared, incredulous and dumfounded, uncertain of his command of gravity.

His jaw fell, and his open mouth might have betokened a being smit to imbecility; and, haply, he might be, for Helen had written him from Plattville, pledging his honor to secrecy with the first words, and it was by her command that he had found excuses for not supplying his patient with all the papers which happened to contain references to the change of date for the Plattville convention.

And Meredith had known for some time where James Fisbee had found a "young relative" to be the savior of the "Herald" for his benefactor's sake.
"You mean--you--intend to--you discharge young Fisbee ?" he stammered at last.
"Yes! Let me have the answers the instant they come, will you, Tom ?" Then Harkless turned his face from the wall and spoke through his teeth: "I mean to see H.Fisbee before many days; I want to talk to him!" But, though he tossed and fretted himself into what the doctor pronounced a decidedly improved state, no answer came to either telegram that day or night.