Gordon Young

“ He was also ignorant of how to get a taxi charged to the paper. But he was a chap who had no hesitancy in getting into complicated situations, with a sublime faith that his luck or his resourcefulness would get him out.
Cæsar won an empire by plunging into a river of cold water, and Newton showed himself to be almost as daring by hailing a taxi. His fingers closed tightly about the one dollar and thirty-five cents as the door closed on them. Belle was surprised at the introduction of the taxi, but she gave no indication of it, thinking that more than likely Brisco had told him to get it. ”

“ Stella, who was known to admire Jack Whitney, manager and leading man of the stock company with which she had cast her fortune, while anxious to reply, knew herself to be no match for her sister. She acknowledged defeat by devoting herself ostentatiously to her dinner.
Belle had a remarkable command of language and considerable energy. While she frequently indulged in sarcasm in speaking of her profession—as all “lady” journalists do at times—other people did so in her presence at their peril. Which is the attitude universally preserved by both “lady” and “gentlemen” journalists. ”

“ According to every fictionist who undertakes to spin a hero out of a cub, the youngster lands the goods where veterans tried and true have fallen down—and always gets his salary raised. Obviously a cub that doesn’t make good is uninteresting. The one that does is usually a nature fake. But, nevertheless, here goes!
“What’s your name?” demanded the rotund city editor of the Morning Mail, blinking his eyes at the tall, not so very confident young man who stood outside the railing and gazed wistfully across at the editor’s desk. ”

“ There must be something to the man she likes. Take yourself, for instance. You would never marry a man who was not ideal in every way. He must be good looking, have good manners, a good income, and——”
“Yes—he must be good looking and have good manners,” Belle answered abstractly. “And, Nubsey,” she added, with strained gayety, “when that time comes, I’ll be glad to leave the jaundiced sheet that keeps me from being a beggar and to join the labor union of marriage. But it depends on the man.”
It was on this same morning that Newton surveyed his cheap room from the lofty heights of his trunk. ”

“ Every reporter is bored and rebored by people who “want to tell him something.” Clyde Kenyon was not interested.
“Listen,” Newton began. “I’m a reporter, too. Just started about five minutes ago. Never saw the inside of a newspaper office before. And now I have something that animated sugar barrel who sits inside the railing calls an ‘assignment.’ He said he didn’t know anything about it himself, but he seems to have a fair imagination. Put me wise to what I’m to do, will you? ”

“ Newton asked, puzzled.
“Now I’m giving you friendly advice. I haven't squealed to anybody and won’t. But when Brisco finds out, you'll get more than you expect. He’s in the managing editor’s office now, with Old Man Rockenheimer
“Oh, then I'll get to explain to him—to ‘Old Man Rockenheimer,’ as you call him. I'll simply tell them how it happened, you know.”
“On the level, Newton, you’re the densest citizen I ever came across! The jig’s up. The best thing you can do is to strike for the tall timber.” ”

“ Newton rather eagerly interposed a comment. Kenyon came back at him:
“Good looking? Well, I guess I know that! But say—talk about haughty! The Queen of Sheba was a jolly good fellow alongside of her. She’s some distant maiden, an iceberg in skirts, and doesn’t like anybody around here but the pay clerk, and him only on Tuesday mornings for about two minutes. Oh, yes—and maybe Brisco. She’s sort of a favorite of his.”
That night Belle remarked to her sister, who had certain well-defined ambitions in the theatrical line, as they sat at dinner:
“There’s a new fellow in the office—a reporter. ”

“ Newton mentioned two or three.
The city editor—sometimes known as “Blustering” Brisco—eyed him incredulously, but for some reason, which he did not take the trouble to analyze, he liked the young man. Perhaps it was because he was confident that the youthful applicant was lying to him. Brisco always said that a man without resource wasn’t worth a damn in the newspaper game, and that only mollycoddles begged for a job.
“All right,” he growled. “Here’s an assignment, Get out on it. Woman shot—that’s all I know. ”

“ At that same hour, Brisco was growling across the desk of the managing editor:
“I put a cub on to-day. First one in ten years. He had the nerve to tell me he’d worked on a string o’ papers, and I thought he might be worth savin’. Then I sent him out on a story and he got Kenyon to write it—could tell by the style. A cub with that much gall, resourcefulness, and impudence, ought to make a first-class newspaper man in a half dozen years or so.”
II.
One day Newton caught sight of Belle van Buskirk, as she passed through the local room, and he inquired as to her identity from Kenyon. ”

“ In fact, Mr. Rockenheimer went on to say that he did not care what his father thought about the matter, that he was man enough to paddle his own canoe, and that as far as maidens were concerned, if he ever did marry, it would be an American girl. Then, in reply to an inquiry as to what type of girl he thought most lovely, Mr. Rockenheimer proceeded to give an accurate and detailed description of the star woman reporter of the Morning Mail.
As a matter of fact, the interview came near complying to the last iota with all the demands that Brisco had imposed. ”

“ And, Belle, you know I thought he was in love with that silly little brunette. Of course, I should have known Jack would have better taste. But when a man’s in love, you can never tell how badly his eyesight is affected. Now, a woman is sensible. ”

“ Several weeks passed, and then Kenyon and Newton came near to having gleeful convulsions when Brisco gave Newton a small raise, for that, to them, was conclusive evidence that they had “put one over on the old man.” ”

“ Belle exclaimed impatiently, as she swept the cards to one side and jumped up. “And I am not going to marry a rich man! I wouldn’t marry the best rich man on earth. Why, he’s only on a cub reporter’s salary!”
With that she grabbed her hat and coat and fled, leaving her sister standing like one in a trance, vainly wondering if she had heard aright.
XI.
In the office of the Morning Mail, Kenyon was sitting at his desk, watching the door for Newton to enter. When he came in, Kenyon called him to one side. ”

“ They say distance lends enchantment. If I ever go to China, this old catacomb may look good to me. But I'd have to be a long ways off to appreciate the beauties of these scarred walls and this pock-marked carpet. ”