CHAPTER II.
ARTHUR DORWARD'S "SCOOP" "What's wrong, old man ?" Bellamy asked quickly.
Dorward from a side table had seized the bottle of whiskey and a siphon, and was mixing himself a drink with trembling fingers.

He tossed it off before he spoke a word.

Then he turned around and faced his companion.

"Bellamy," he ordered, "lock the door." Bellamy obeyed.

He had no doubt now but that Dorward had lost his head in the Chancellor's presence--had made some absurd attempt to gain the knowledge which they both craved, and had failed.
"Bellamy," Dorward exclaimed, speaking hoarsely and still a little out of breath, "I guess I've had the biggest slice of luck that was ever dealt out to a human being.