Jim thought over the lawyer’s words all the way home. He was turning in the lane when he found the solution to his problem. Going upstairs to the privacy of his room, he began work with a pencil and paper. After much thought and many false starts, his writing began to take form. He labored for several hours, hunting up words in the dictionary, correcting his spelling, altering and revising his sentences.
The following morning Jim bridled his mustang and departed eagerly for Springdale. Arriving at the Gazette building he sought out the editor. Arnold was seated in his office relaxing; his feet up on the desk, his swivel chair tipped back and a pipe between his teeth. To Jim he was the picture of editorial genius at work. Being an editor must be a fine occupation.
“I have a scoop for you, Mr. Arnold,” announced the boy.
“You have?” asked the editor, picking up his feet and a pencil from the desk at the same time. “Have you and that horse of yours started a riot or a revolution?”
“Neither,” said Jim. “Something else though. I’ve written it up for you.”
Arnold took the proffered pages, reading them carefully. Jim watched the other’s face anxiously as he read.
“A very creditable job of reporting for a cub,” said Arnold solemnly. “There will have to be a few minor changes. For example, you shouldn’t say ‘errands run lickety-split.’ It would sound better to use some such phrase as ‘speedy messenger service.’ You see, the Gazette is a dignified paper.”
“That does sound better,” agreed Jim. “Do you want the story?”
“I think we can use it,” answered the editor. “What are your rates for literary services?”
“Oh, you can have this free. I need the publicity.”