“I guess you’ll do,” he commented. “If you last long enough you’ll win.”
“Thanks,” said Bobby dryly, and then he smiled. “Say, Jolter,” he added, “it’s bully fun being angry. I’m just beginning to realize what I have been missing all these years. Go ahead with Sharpe’s picture and print anything you please about him. I guess you can secure enough material without going out of the office, and if you can’t I’ll supply you with some.”
Jolter looked at his watch and hurried for the door. Minutes were precious if he wanted to get that Sharpe cut made in time for the afternoon edition. At the door, however, he turned a bit anxiously.
“I suppose you carry a gun, don’t you?”
“By no means,” said Bobby. “Never owned one.”
“I’d advise you to get a good one at once,” and Jolter hurried away.
That evening’s edition of the Bulletin contained a beautiful half-tone of Mr. Sharpe. Above it was printed: “The Bulletin’s Rogues’ Gallery,” and beneath was the caption: “Hadn’t this man better go, too?”
CHAPTER XXIV
EDITOR BURNIT DISCOVERS THAT HE IS FIGHTING AN ENTIRE CITY INSTEAD OF ONE MAN
At four o’clock of that same day Mr. Brown came in, and Mr. Brown was grinning. In the last three days a grin had become the trade-mark of the office, for the staff of the Bulletin was enjoying itself as never before in all its history.