“To print that kind of stuff,” said Mr. Gordon forcibly, “would make The Ledger a betrayer of its own cause. What you personally believe is not the point.”
“I believe in facts.”
“It is what The Ledger believes that is important here. You must appreciate that, as long as you remain on the staff, your only honorable course is to conform to the standards of the paper. When you write an article, it appears to our public, not as what Mr. Banneker says, but as what The Ledger says.”
“In other words,” said Banneker thoughtfully, “where the facts conflict with The Ledger’s theories, I’m expected to adjust the facts. Is that it?”
“Certainly not! You are expected to present the news fairly and without editorial emphasis.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Gordon, but I don’t believe I could rewrite that story so as to give a favorable slant to the International’s side. Shooting down women and kids, you know—”
Mr. Gordon’s voice was crisp as he cut in. “There is no question of your rewriting it. That has been turned over to a man we can trust.”
“To handle facts tactfully,” put in Banneker in his mildest voice.
Considerably to his surprise, he saw a smile spread over Mr. Gordon’s face. “You’re an obstinate young animal, Banneker,” he said. “Take this proof home, put it under your pillow and dream over it. Tell me a week from now what you think of it.”
Banneker rose. “Then, I’m not fired?” he said.