A bell rang. The engine started. There was a subdued roar. There was a rattle, a bang, a throb of the basement floor. Then came a shrill screech as the belts gripped the wheels, and the machinery started. In another instant the roar became a steady thunder, and hundreds of papers a minute began falling from the presses.
The election extra was out.
CHAPTER XIX
A QUEER LETTER
It was just getting dawn when the reporters, editors, and copy readers, who had worked so hard on the extra, stopped, and had a breathing spell. Down in the street the newsboys were crying their wares in shrill tones. The thoroughfares were almost deserted, however, save by a few night-workers who were hurrying home. In a little while, though, they would be thronged by crowds anxious to buy papers, to scan the returns, for not everyone remains up late enough to find out who is elected.
Larry thought, now that the paper was out, there would be a chance for all hands to go to bed, and get some sleep. But as the Leader was an afternoon paper, and the election extra was a sort of side line, the entire force, without having had a wink of sleep, had to turn in and get ready for the regular issue.
“But before we do that we’ll have breakfast,” remarked Mr. Emberg. So he took the crowd of reporters to a nearby restaurant, where some hot coffee and wheat cakes with maple syrup made everyone feel a bit fresher, though there were many sleepy eyes in the city room that day.
Larry thought he never would be able to stick it out. Every now and then, in the midst of his writing, he would find his head nodding toward the desk, and he would just catch himself in time. He looked around somewhat sheepishly at such times, but no one seemed to be noticing him. As a matter of fact everyone else had momentary failings.
Aside from going over the returns, and making some corrections, getting interviews from defeated candidates and leaders who told how they had been whipped, and talks with successful ones, who told how the people were sure to be benefited by the new party, there was not much news that day.
A few fires, none of them very big, several robberies, and a number of accidents, one of which proved fatal, made up the day’s happenings. Usually a general lack of news was something to be regarded as an undesirable happening, but the day after election even the editors were too weary to want many items.
The paper closed early that afternoon, and Larry went straight home, ate a hearty supper, and then tumbled into bed. He slept like a top until the sun, streaming in at his window, awakened him, and then he felt as if a few hours more would have done him no harm.