“They’re not that bad,” laughed Margaret, “and I’ll try to do especially well for you.”
Helen provided her first assistant with copypaper and Margaret sat down at the desk to write her stories. The editor of the Herald then devoted her attention to writing up the notes she had taken in her talk with the state superintendent of schools. It was a story that she found slow to write for she wanted no mistakes in it.
The afternoon was melting in a soft May twilight when Tom snapped the switch on the Linotype and came into the editorial office.
“Almost six o’clock,” he said, “and time for us to head for home and supper.”
Margaret, who had been at the desk writing for more than an hour, straightened her cramped back.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed. “I never thought reporting could be such work and yet so much fun. I’m getting the biggest thrill out of my stories.”
“That’s about all the pay you will get,” grinned Tom.
They closed the office and started home together. They had hardly gone a block when Helen stopped suddenly.
“Give me the office key, Tom,” she said. “I started a letter to Dad this morning and it got sidetracked when someone came in. I’m going back and get it. I can finish it at home and mail it on the seven-fifteen when I come down to meet the train.”
“I’ll get it for you,” said Tom and started on the run for the office. He got her half-finished letter, and rejoined Helen and Margaret, who had walked slowly.