‘Getting something, Joe?’ McKay asked.
‘Have it for you in a while,’ said Crane.
He stopped at the picture desk and Gattard, the picture editor, handed him the morning’s offerings.
‘Nothing much to pep you up,’ said Gattard. ‘All the gals got a bad dose of modesty today.’
Crane looked through the sheaf of pictures. There wasn’t, truth to tell, so much feminine epidermis as usual, although the gal who was Miss Manila Rope wasn’t bad at all.
‘The place is going to go to hell,’ mourned Gattard, ‘if those picture services don’t send us better pornography than this. Look at the copy desk. Hanging on the ropes. Nothing to show them to snap them out of it.’
Crane went and got his drink. On the way back he stopped to pass the time of day at the news desk.
‘What’s exciting, Ed?’ he asked.
‘Those guys in the East are nuts,’ said the news editor. ‘Look at this one, will you.’
The dispatch read: