Robert Barr

“ They are a bad lot, the fellows on the other papers."
"If they are there," said the local editor, "they will go to prison."
"They won't mind that, if they can write something about it," said Murren gloomily. In his opinion the Argus was going to the dogs.
"Now, Thompson," said McCrasky, "you as criminal reporter must know a lot of men who can give you particulars for a first-rate article on the evils of gambling. Get it ready for Saturday's paper—a column and a half, with scare heads. We must work up public opinion." ”

“ The chairs were nicely arranged and most of them were occupied. At the further end of the room Pony Rowell stood on a platform or on a box or some elevation, and his pale, earnest face was lighted up with the enthusiasm of the public speaker. ”

“ I hold that all kinds of gambling are bad, unless a man can easily afford to lose what he stakes. The trouble is that gambling affects some people like liquor. I knew a man once who——" but you can read the whole article if you turn up the back numbers of the Argus.
Thompson told Mellish about McCrasky. Mellish was much interested, and said he would like to meet the local editor. He thought the papers should take more interest in the suppression of gambling dens than they did, and for his part he said he would like to see them all stopped, his own included. ”

“ Take a land boom, for instance, such as there was in California or at Winnipeg—the difference between putting your money in a thing like that or going in for legitimate gambling is that, in the one case, you are sure to lose your cash, while in the other you have a chance of winning some. ”

“ Thompson caught his breath and glanced quickly at Murren.
"No," he said at last. "I don't, but perhaps the religious editor does. Better ask him."
The religious editor smiled and removed his corn-cob pipe.
"There aren't any," he said. "Didn't you know it was against the law to keep a gambling house in this state? Yes, sir!" Then he put his corn-cob pipe back in its place.
McCrasky was pleased to see that his young men knew so little of the wickedness of a great city ”

“ We know our business, sir."
McCrasky thought this was a snub, and he was right. He looked around in the darkness for his reporters. He found them standing together in a doorway on the opposite side of the street.
"Been here long?" he whispered.
Murren was gloomy and did not answer. The religious editor removed his corn-cob and said briefly; "About ten minutes, sir." Thompson was gazing with interest at the dark building across the way. ”