“He was silent.
“‘Didn’t you like the report?’ I finally inquired.
“‘Yes,’ he said, prolonging the word in a strange manner.
“‘Wasn’t it good enough?’ I inquired.
“‘Oh, yes,’ with a peculiar laugh; ‘it was bright.’ Then turning to me he said impressively: ‘I have no doubt in the world that the members of the league deserve all the ridicule you cast on them, but,’ he added, ‘it should not have been printed in my paper. I am the president of the Municipal League.’”
Herbert and Tomlin remained in conversation for a long while, and the older man regaled his companion with a batch of very interesting stories bearing upon the incidents that take place behind the scenes of journalism. They walked home together that night, and Herbert, feeling that Tomlin was a man in whom he could trust and confide, confessed to him the low condition of his finances.
“I thought I would get immediate employment,” he said, “and as a consequence brought only a small amount of money with me from the country. I met an old acquaintance who was on his uppers and gave him a large part of my surplus. As the result of this and my other little expenditures, I have only about two dollars.”
“Do you want to borrow anything?” said the other, turning to him quickly; “I will be glad to stake you if you do.”
“Not at all,” said Herbert hastily, “I hope you won’t think I introduced the subject for that purpose. But it will be about ten days before I receive my first pay; and in the meantime next week’s board bill will be due and payable. I wondered whether I could not earn a little money in the meantime.”
“Certainly,” said Tomlin; “it will give you an opportunity for showing what is in you, too. The thing is easy enough. Write some space for the Argus. Blakeley is always willing to accept a good story, and if you can go out into this human whirlpool to-morrow and fish up something a little bit out of the ordinary he will be only too glad to print it, and pay you for it, too.”