“Well,” yawned the city editor, stretching his arms over his head, “I don’t know that I should answer that question; but I will say that I had a talk with Blakeley, the city editor of the Argus, yesterday afternoon. You can draw your own conclusions.”
Herbert did, and found that the conclusions were not very flattering to himself. In the course of the next two weeks he visited the local rooms of nearly every important newspaper in the city; but everywhere he met with the same experience. In short, he found himself blacklisted.
In the meantime he made every effort to preserve a cheerful demeanor. He wrote long letters home to his mother, but never mentioned the grave disaster which had overwhelmed him and which threatened to blight his future newspaper life. Fortunately he possessed a small sum of money which was on deposit in the saving fund. He had been prudent and thrifty from the time of his arrival in New York, and as a consequence was able to save small amounts of money in addition to the allowance which he sent to his mother with religious regularity. He drew this out now, and counting it over carefully found that, if necessary, it would be sufficient to pay his expenses for a month or so. But after all a month, and even two months pass very rapidly to a poor man who sees no immediate prospect of earning money. He noted with dismay that a whole week had been lost in his fruitless negotiations with the Sentinel, and that a longer period of time had passed by during the time he was applying to the other newspapers.
At this period he received a letter from Noah Brooks, saying that Mr. Anderson had told him of the big beat upon which he was working for the Argus, and wanting to know whether he had been able to carry it to a successful conclusion. The letter annoyed him, even coming from such an old and valued friend as the editor of the Cleverly Banner. However, he sent a courteous reply to his old friend, expressing regret at his failure to distinguish himself upon that particular piece of work.
Mr. Anderson, his former teacher, hearing that he had separated from the service of the Argus, called on him one evening.
“I am awfully sorry to hear this, Herbert, and I half suspect that it is the result of a quarrel with Blakeley.”
“Yes,” assented Herbert with a half smile, “there is no doubt about that. Blakeley quarreled all right. I think it was a one-sided quarrel; but there is no use in discussing it now.”
“But there is use,” insisted the other; “I’ll go to see Blakeley at once and have this matter straightened out.”
Herbert put a detaining hand on his arm, and said with great earnestness:
“Please don’t do anything of the kind.”