“Nothing the matter with him, Miss, but just plain drunk,” the man said with a grin. “He's been sleeping it off.”

Jeff felt the quiver run through her. She rose, trembling, and with one frightened sidelong look at him walked quickly away. He had seen a wound in her eyes he would not soon forget. It was as if he had struck her down while she was holding out hands to help him.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]

CHAPTER 5

Lies need only age to make them respectable. Given that,
they become traditions and are put upon a pedestal. Then the
gentlest word for him who attacks them is traitor.—From
the Note Book of a Dreamer.

THE REBEL FOLLOWS THE RAMIFICATIONS OF BIG BUSINESS AND FINDS THAT THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY ARE NOT IN POLITICS FOR THEIR HEALTH

Part 1

“Hmp! Want to be a reporter, do you?” Warren, city editor on the Advocate, leaned back in his chair and looked Jeff over sharply.

“Yes.”

“It's a hell of a life. Better keep out.”