From then on all three boys were kept busy, for as the morning wore on several reporters came in with stories, long or short, that they had gathered on their various assignments, and these were quickly corrected and edited, and ready for the typesetters.
Back and forth, from the city room desk to the pneumatic tube, the three boys ran. Larry noticed that Peter was in the sulks and that he did not seem to care very much about doing the work. Once or twice he lagged down the hall instead of hurrying back from the tube after more copy as he should have done, once Mr. Emberg remarked sharply to him:
“Peter, if you don’t want to work here, there are lots of other boys I can get.”
“My foot hurts me,” whined the boy, as he limped slightly.
“Why didn’t you say so before?” inquired the city editor. “If it is very bad you can go home and come in to-morrow.”
“Oh, it’s not as bad as that,” replied Peter, fearing lest he should be found out in his deceit. “I guess I can stand it.”
Meanwhile Larry was kept on the jump. He soon got the knack of his duties and resolved to make himself as useful as possible. With this in view he kept close watch on the desk, and, as soon as he saw Mr. Emberg, the assistant city editor, or any of the readers, fold up copy, preparatory to handing it to one of the boys, Larry hurried up without waiting for the cry “Copy!”
“That’s the way to do it,” said Mr. Emberg encouragingly, as he noticed Larry’s remarkable quickness.
“Don’t be so fresh,” muttered Peter on one of these occasions, as he passed Larry in the long and deserted hall. “There’s no use rushin’ so, and the union won’t stand for it. I’ll punch your head if you don’t look out!”
“I’m going to do my work right, and I don’t care what you say!” exclaimed Larry. “And if there’s any head punching to be done, I can do my share!”