Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1901-09-26

go 20 press. me l,nolypeS Wete
i clicking frantlcelly on the last
takes, the foreman was dancing
about the last form, and from below
fioated the rattle of the newsboys
room, and the rattle of the delivery
wagons in the alley. J he last reporter
had struggled out and none of the brain
Of the paper was on hand except Gil
roy.
Ciilloy was the night editor and he
was anything but at peace in his mind,
"A bum rag this morning, a bum
rag. Nothing but rot and rot--not a
line Of hot stuff-but there's nothin'
doing nothing"
Gilroy had worked hard and worked
his men harder to get out credltable
sheet, but the results were disappoint-
ing. He was vicionsly jabbng the
cockroaches upon his grimy desk with
his shears when some one gently nudg-
ed his elbow. He wheeled around and
faced strange figure. a face drawn
and haggard with a pallor which
brought muttered, deprecated" from
the editor; p form attenuated, clad in
seedy and shining black, with a minis
terial coat tightly bpttoned at the
throat; shifting eyes beneath an old
SLOUGH hat. 1t loci ed like a clear case
of touch" and Gilroy was bracing him
self for it.
The man, with trembling hands drew
from an inner pocket several sheets of
manuscript and as he smoothed them
carefully. he spoke in nervous, hurried
tones, with a tense uuder-current of
anxiety:
Its a scoop, sir-'pon honor n dead
scoop. Police don't know it. No one
knows it but myself mean-er. Give
me V and its yours. exclusive. Only
a V sir Worth double, sir.
Gilroy's eyes were running down the
lines at lightning speed as with the
practice of years he absorbed the story.
1t was admirably written in an odd,
but legible hand with all the ear-marks
of an old reporters copy. The story
was of murder which had been COM
mitted but an hour before in an alley
directly in the rear of police headquar-
ters. A Waterman had been found
with his throat cut from ear to ear. The
dead man Gilroy knew to be an inof-
fensive Swede without an enemy in the
world The watchman's keys, money
which left the motive to be explained.
For once in his life Gilroy was in
doubt 1t was to overthrow all the
newspaper saints from their inches to
take story under these conditions. 1t
might be fake pure and simple-or it
might be the greatest scoop which the
Blazer ever printed. All this time the
man was keeping up his plaintive
pleading for "A V. sir, only V. and
it's the chance of lifetime, sir"
Its Just a gamble. but here goes"
muttered Gilroy as he carved the copy
into infinitesmal takes and yelled to the
foreman;
Make a hole for this strff-kill any
thing everything-its got 20 60" Then
turning to the stranger.
Here's your V. If This is wrong, I'll
hunt you to the ends of the earth and
shoot you on sight and Gilroy spoke
as If he would do it.
With a feyerish clutch the man
reached for the bank note and melted
into the gloom of the outer Office.
With the first grumble of the big
presses came a spiteful ring of the tele-
phone. 1t was Somerby the club re-
porter, who was an independent scout
as he chose to call himself. a man look
ing for chance to distinguish himself.
Somerby said, Police have just
found body of murdered man in the
Ashpit alley"
''Eh--what's that you say?"
Got it-buy paper and go home
and read it-get some sleep and see if
you can't get some news"
And Somerby hung up the receiver
in hotel half mile and brushed away
something like tear of disappoint