“Then why do you advise me to change?”
“I don’t.”
“But you offered—”
“Stop right there while you’re still on the track. I offered. I did n’t advise. If you’re in this business to write what you want, and to hell with the public, I’ve got just one piece of advice for you. Turn millionaire and get a paper of your own.”
Jeremy flushed. “I may do it yet. Not the millionaire part, but the other.”
“Give me a job, then,” said the other good-humoredly, “as you won’t take one from me. If you should want it, it’s twenty a week to start. Not bad for a town of 70,000, Bo.”
“The Record’s promised me better. I guess I’ll stay.”
“Ay-ah.” Galpin accepted the decision indifferently. “Well, I guess you’ll get somewhere sometime if you don’t go bucking your head against stone walls. But don’t waste your poetic style on patriotic kids who stand nobly up in galleries for the honor of the flag.”
“That kid was a girl.”
“So I noticed in your story. Think I know her.”