He gasped, shuddered, and wondered what was coming.

Then he went on and read the report of the interview: "A 'Tattler' reporter visited yesterday the great proprietor of Sevenoaks, Colonel Robert Belcher, at his splendid mansion on Fifth Avenue.

That gentleman had evidently just swallowed his breakfast, and was comforting himself over the report he had read in the 'Tattler' of that morning, by inhaling the fragrance of one of his choice Havanas.

He is evidently a devotee of the seductive weed, and knows a good article when he sees it.

A copy of the 'Tattler' lay on the table, which bore unmistakable evidences of having been spitefully crushed in the hand.
The iron had evidently entered the Colonel's righteous soul, and the reporter, having first declined the cup of coffee hospitably tendered to him and accepted (as he always does when he gets a chance) a cigar, proceeded at once to business.
"_Reporter_: Col.