Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1916-12-02

"No, boys, we don't need a staff.
cure set. But you come at an oppor-
tune time. Wanderlust-it tickles the
soles of four feet tonight, and those
four feet are editorial feet on the
Mail Something tells us that we are
going away from here. Boys, how
would you like our jobs?"
He stared placidly at the two
strangers. O'Neill put one hand to
his head.
"See me safely to my park bench,
Harry" he said. "It was that drink
on an empty stomach. I'm all in a
daze. 1 hear strange things"
81 hear 'em, too," said Howe. "See
here''-he turned to Mears-"are you
offering to resign in our favor?"
"The minute you say the word"
Both of you?"
Believe me-" said the city editor,
"you can't say the word too soon."
We'll" said Howe, 81 don't know
what's the matter with the place, but
you can consider the deal closed"
Spoken like a SPORT" The bearded
man stood up. "You can draw lots to
determine who is to be managing edi-
tor and who city editor. It's an excel
lent scheme. 1 attained my proud posi-
tion that way. One condition attach.
Ask no questions. Let us go out into
the night unburdened with your inter-
rogation points,"
Elliott, too, stood. The bearded man
indicated the bottle. Fill up, boys.
propose a toast. To the new editors of
the Mail. May heaven bless them and
bring them safely back to the north
when Florida's fitful fever is past"
Dizzily, uncertainty, Howe and
O'Neill drank. Mr.. Mears reached out
a great red hand toward the bottle.
Pardon me-private property" he
said. He pocketed 1t. 1--WE bid you
goodby and good luck. Think of us on
the choochoo, please. Riding far-rid-
ing far"
"But-see here"- cried O'Neill.
But me no butts" said Mears again.
Mary a question, I beg of you. Take
our jobs, and if you think of us at all
think of cleaning rails and a speeding
train. Once more-goodby."
The door slammed. O'Neill looked at
Howe.
Fairies" he muttered, cor the D.
It's. What is this-a comic opera or a
town? You are managing editor, Har-
ry. l shall be city editor. Is there a
city to edit? No natter
NO." said Howe. He reached for
the greasy pack of cards. 1--WE draw
for 1t. Come on. High wins"
Jack" announced Mr.. O'Neill.
Deuce" smiled Howe. What are
your orders, sir?"
O'Neill passed one hand before his
eyes.
ga steak" he muttered. "Well
done. Mushroom sauce. French
fried potatoes. I've always dreamed
OF running a paper some day. Hurry
up with that steak"
Forget your stomach" said Howe.
"lf a subordinate may make q sug-
gestion, we must get out a newspaper
All, whom have we here?"
A stocky, red faced man appeared
from the inner room and stood regard
ing them.
Where's Mears and ElliottT' he de-
manded.
"On train, riding far" said O'Neill
II am the new managing editor. What
can do for you?"
You can give me four columns of
copy for the last page OF tomorrows
Mall" said the stocky man calmly.
I'm foreman of something in there we
call composing room. Glad to meet
you"
-Four columns" mused O'Neill
-Four columns of whatT
The foreman pointed to a row Of bat
tered books on a shelf.
"It's been the CUSTOM" he said, "to
fill up with stuff out of that encyclo-
pedia there"
Thanks" O'Neill answered. He took
down book. "We'll fix you up in ten
minutes. Mr.. Howe, will you please
do me two columns on-er-mulli-
gatawny-murder-m mushrooms. That's
it. On mushrooms. The life story of
the humble little mushroom. / myself
will dash off q column or so on the
climate of Algeria"
They looked up suddenly ten minutes
later to find a man standing between
them. He was little man, clad all
in white, suit, shoes, stockings. His
sly old face was lemon yellow, and
his eyes suggested lights flaming in the
dark woods at night
"Beg pardon" said the little man.
"Ah, and what can we do for your?
inquired O'Neill.
Nothing. Mr. Mears? Mr.. ElliottT
"Gone. Vamosed. You are now speak
to the managing editor of the Mail"
"Ah! Indeed?"
"We are very busy. If you'll Just
tell me what you want
II merely dropped in. am Manuel
Gonzale, owner of the Mail"
"Good Lord" cried O'Neill.
ado not be disturbed. / take it you
gentlemen have replaced Mears and
Elliott. l am glad. Let them go. You
look like bright young men to me-
quite bright enough. / employ you."
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