Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1914-03-01

But the lean stranger gave no heed. In
stead he stepped over and entered into ear
nest converse with a citizen of San Marco.
In moment he returned to his companions
side.
"One newspaper" he announced, The
Evening Chronicle Suppose the office is
locked for the night; but come along, let 5
try.
Feed or otherwise annoy" muttered the
little man blankly. For the love OF Allah
-alms!"
THEY travcrsed several side streets, and
came at last to the Office of "Thc
Chronicle. 1t was a modest structure,
verg1ng on decay. One man sat alone in the
dim interior, reading exchanges under an
electric lamp.
Good evening, said the short man gen
tally. Are you the editor"
~Uh-huh, responded The Chronicle"
man without enthusiasm, from under his
green eyeshade.
Glad to know you. We just dropped in
"a couple of newspaper men, you know.
This is Mr.. Harry Howe, until recently
own name is Robert O'Neill, humble edi-
torial writer on the same sheet"
"Uh-huli. If you had jobs, for Gods sake
why did you leave them"
"Ah, you may well ask" The red-haired
one dropped unlimited into chair. odd
man, it's dramatic story. The Chief of
Police of Mobile happened to be a crook and
a CRATER, and we happened to mention it
in The Press Night before last twenty
five armed cops invaded the peace and sane
tity of Our sanctum. Harry and I-pure
accident-landed in the same general heap
at the foot of the fire escape out back. And
here we are! Here we are.'
"My newspaper instinct" said "The
Chronicle man, chad already enabled me
to gather that last
Sarcasm! 1t was bad sign. But bEthely
Bob O'Neill continued.
"Here we are he said, 1.-TWO experienced
newspaper men, down and out. We thought
there might possibly be a vacancy or two
on the staff of your paper"
The editor threw off his eyeshade, reveal
ing a cynical face. Boys he said, Il
thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I've been running this alleged newspaper
for two long, dreary years, and this laugh
you've just handed me is the first I've had
during that time. Vacancies! There is one
"a big one. See my pocket for particulars.
Two years, Boys. And all the time hoping
praying some day I'd make two
dollars and sixty cents, which is the railroad
1are TO Une next Town.
Howe and O'Neil1 listened with faces that
steadily grew more sorrowful.
"I'd like to stake you to a NEAL the
editor went on; 3but mans first duty is
to his family. Any burglar will tell you
that
a suppose ventured O'Neill, most of
the flash gone from his manner, @there is
no other newspaper here?'
@No, there isn't. There's weird thing
here called The San Marco Mail a morn
ing outrage. It's making money; but by
different methods than I'd care to use. You
might try there. You look unlucky. Per-
haps they'd take you on
He rose from his chair, and gave them di-
rections for reaching "The Mall Office.
Goodnight, Boys" he said. @Thank you
for calling. You're the first newspaper men
I've seen in two years, except when I've
looked in the glass-and the other day l
broke my looking glass. Goodnight, and
bad luck go with you to the extent of jobs
on The Mail'!'
CYNIC!" breathed O'Neil1 in the street.
~ "A bitter tongue maketh a sour face.
1 liked him not. A morning outrage called
The Mail! Sounds promising small
pox in the next county,
ave shall see,T said Howe, shat which
meets our vision Forward, march,"
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