The city editor strolled to the water-tank, and back, wiping his lips. He saw Felix writing, came over, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked, “What are you writing?”
Well, he was lost. There was no backing out now. He handed over the first sheets.
“Thought you didn’t get anything,” the city editor remarked.
“I—didn’t,” said Felix.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
Felix wrote the last sentence, and surrendered the page.
“He said this?” asked the city editor, pausing for a moment. Felix nodded. “Just like the old bird, too,” the city editor muttered, and went on reading. He read to the end, and then read the first page again, and then smiled amiably. “And you didn’t know you had a story!” he said.
“Well,” said Felix, still incredulous. “I didn’t think—”
“You’re sure you’ve got it right?” the city editor asked, rubbing his chin.
“Every word,” said Felix, earnest in behalf of his veracity.