Even Miss Betty stood up for the newspaper ethics.
“If people would only understand,” sighed Cookie, “that a reporter is a reasonable creature. It would not hurt that Miss King to give us just one picture, and then every one would be happy. Reporters will always play fair if treated right. People show their true character by the way they react to a newspaper inquiry,” he went on; “if they’re snobs, it comes out. A newspaper is a public institution and folks should help reporters instead of hindering them.”
“I’m glad he didn’t give me that assignment,” rejoiced the society editor, now. “I’ll be glad when June is over. I’ve described so many bridal costumes, I’ve used up all the adjectives in my Roget’s Thesaurus. If you ever get married, Jo, take pity on the poor society editor and don’t do it in June.”
At lunch time, Tim came home, frowning and silent. It was not until he started on his dessert, which was his favorite apple cake, that Joan dared ask him how things had gone that morning.
“Went to the three best studios,” he mumbled.
“And none of them had Miss King’s picture?” she asked, and then realized how silly that was, because if Tim had the photo, he wouldn’t be so grumpy-looking.
“I did find one place where she’d had a picture taken,” Tim said. “But it didn’t do me any good. I found her name on the list at Barton’s studio, for back a couple of years. But when Mr. Barton went to his files to look up the plate to make me a proof—he files ’em by years, see?—he found that that was the year his studio was damaged by fire, and all the plates ruined.”
“Oh, Tim!” Joan knew how tragic it was. “But can’t you find any one who has a picture of Miss King?”
“Fat chance she hasn’t posted all her friends not to give the Journal her picture since she’s so dead set against it.” Tim jabbed savagely at the second piece of cake.
When Tim had finished his lunch, Joan made up her mind to go over to the Journal office. Maybe Miss Betty would have some suggestion to offer in this dilemma. If only she could really help Tim!