The two Gales exchanged glances of congratulation. “I guess our friend Carroll will have to get a new front page for to-morrow’s issue,” the proprietor of the Chronicle chuckled. “It gives me great joy, my son, to deprive our esteemed contemporary of its star feature.”
His son grinned. “Yes; my only regret is that we cannot publish the pictures ourselves,” he said. “Of course, our friendship for the police department makes that quite impossible. It is too bad. It would be such a rattling good joke on that confounded Camera Chap if we could use his snapshots on the front page of to-morrow’s Chronicle.”
The elder Gale smiled deprecatingly. “As you have said, my son, that is quite out of the question. As we run the administration organ, the pictures are useless to us for publication. But I have no doubt we shall be able to find other uses for them.”
Then the proprietor of the Chronicle dipped his hands into his trousers pocket, and produced a silver coin, which he extended toward Miggsy.
“You have done well, my boy,” he said; “very well, indeed. Here is a half dollar for you.”
Miggsy thought it was somewhat beneath the dignity of a reporter to receive a fifty-cent tip like a common office boy, but, not wishing to hurt the old gentleman’s feelings, he decided not to debate the point.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, pocketing the coin. “When shall I start in to cover police?”
As Mr. Gale appeared not to have heard the question, Miggsy took the liberty of repeating it. “When do I start in on the job?” he inquired. “Shall I go over to police headquarters now, sir? I’m ready.”
To his great astonishment the proprietor of the Chronicle stared at him coldly. “Ready for what, young man?” he inquired.
“To cover police, sir.”