"Well, among other things, I've got the trifling matter of a paper to put to press. What's wrong?"
"You know what's wrong!"
"Do I?"
"And you and your men let this go through, two whole weeks of it, for the sake of your little yellow-journal scarehead!"
"Look here, Tyrer, I'm a busy man. Tell me what you're talking about, or ring off."
"I'm talking about the lunacy of a one-cent journalist who's willing to risk even his own funds for the sake of an afternoon beat! I tell you, Pyott, the whole story's got to be stopped!"
"What story?"
"The Advance story! I've got your man Trotter here now. He——"
"Ah, Trotter!" exclaimed Pyott. He was at last beginning to see light.
"I've got him and your job-room man named Tiernan up here, but I can't do anything with Trotter. He's mad, mad as a March hare. Says he's got to get his story down to you for to-day's issue."