CHAPTER IV.
THAT IS NOT BILLIARD CHALK Meantime at the _Planet_ office Masterman Throgton was putting on his coat to go home.
"Excuse me, sir," said an employe, "there's a lot of green billiard chalk on your sleeve." Throgton turned and looked the man full in the eye.
"That is not billiard chalk," he said, "it is face powder." Saying which this big, imperturbable, self-contained man stepped into the elevator and went to the ground floor in one drop..