"For all that, he knew his job. Everything Sterne did had a dollar somewhere in the background. Even his blackmailing game. He worked with the business office, and he took his orders on that basis. Now if you had some man whom you could turn over this news end to while you're building up a sound advertising policy—"
"How about McGuire Ellis?"
Dr. Surtaine glanced over to the window corner where the associate editor was somnambulantly fighting a fly for the privilege of continuing a nap.
"Too much of a theorist: too much of a knocker."
"He's taught me what little I know about this business," said Hal. "Hi! Wake up, Ellis. Do you know you've got to make a speech in an hour? This is the day of the Formal Feed."
"Hoong!" grunted Ellis, arousing himself. "Speech? I can't make a speech. Make it yourself."
"I'm going to."
"What are you going to talk about?"
"Well, I might borrow your text and preach them a sermon on honesty in journalism. Seriously, I think the whole paper has degenerated to low ideals, and if I put it to them straight, that every man of them, reporter, copy-reader, or editor, has got to measure up to an absolutely straight standard of honesty—"
"They'll throw the tableware at you," said McGuire Ellis quietly: "at least they ought to, if they don't."