When Hal spoke, he did not answer Billy Keating's last remark. He had been listening to a retelling of the North Valley disaster over the telephone; so he was not thinking about his skin, but about a hundred and seven men and boys buried inside a mine.
“Mr. Keating,” said he, “are you sure the Gazette will print that story?”
“Good Lord!” exclaimed the other. “What am I here for?”
“Well, I've been disappointed once, you know.”
“Yes, but you got into the wrong camp. We're a poor man's paper, and this is what we live on.”
“There's no chance of its being 'toned down'?”
“Not the slightest, I assure you.”
“There's no chance of Peter Harrigan's suppressing it?”
“Peter Harrigan made his attempts on the Gazette long ago, my boy.”
“Well,” said Hal, “and now tell me this—will it do the work?”