“Then come down and write the story. I’ll save a good spot on page one for it.”
Janet hung up the telephone, feeling a little weak and limp. Pete Benda was insistent and she would have to go through with it.
“The Times wants me to come down and write a first person story of what happened last night,” she explained to her mother. “I didn’t want to, but Pete Benda, the city editor, just insisted. He’s been so good about helping us out on the school page when we’ve been in jams that I couldn’t say no.”
“Of course not, and you’ll do a good piece of writing. No don’t worry about it. Run along. I’ll have a little lunch ready when you get back.”
Janet put on her coat, but paused at the door and called to her mother. “If Helen comes before I get back, tell her I’ll be along soon.”
Janet enjoyed the walk to the Times office for the air was invigorating.
The Times was housed in a narrow two-story building with its press in the basement. The news department was on the second floor with the city editor’s desk in front of a large window where he could look the full length of the main business street of Clarion.
Pete Benda, thin and too white-faced for his own good health, saw Janet come in.
“Here’s a desk and typewriter you can use,” he said. “I’m counting on having that story in less than an hour. You’ll have to come through, young lady.”
Janet flushed at Pete’s appellation, for the city editor of the Times was only a little older than she. Oh well, perhaps Pete was twenty-two, but she could remember when he had been in high school, playing football, and one of the best ends in the state.