Under Orders: The story of a young reporter - Kirk Munroe 3 стр.


A third attempt resulted in his being ushered into the presence of a brisk young man, apparently not much older than himself. This self-important individual listened impatiently while Myles hesitatingly made known his desires, and promptly answered:

Very sorry, sir, but absolutely no vacancy in our staff. Five hundred applicants ahead of you. No chance at all. Good-day.

Thus dismissed Myles got out of the office somehow, though how he could not have told. His mind was filled with mortification, disappointment, and anger at everybody in general and himself in particular for being so foolish as to imagine that it was an easy thing to obtain a position as reporter on a great daily.

It was after the appointed hour before he was sufficiently calmed down to visit the office of the Phonograph, and he found Van Cleef anxiously awaiting him.

Well, he said, questioningly, after he had passed Myles through a boy-guarded entrance into a large, brilliantly lighted room in which a number of young men sat at a long desk busily writing. How have you got on?

Not at all, answered Myles, and I dont believe I am ever likely to.

Nonsense! You mustnt be so easily discouraged. Come and let me introduce you to Mr. Haxall, our city editor. He is a far different kind of a man from any of the others, I can tell you.

Mr. Haxall was kindly polite, almost cordial in his manner, and listened attentively to Myles brief explanation of his position and hopes. When it was finished he, too, was beginning to say, I am very sorry, Mr. Manning, but we have already more men than we know what to do with, when Van Cleef said something to him in so low a tone that Myles did not catch what it was.

Is that so? said Mr, Haxall, reflectively, and looking at Myles with renewed interest. It might be made very useful, thats a fact. Well, Ill strain a point and try him.

Then to Myles he said:

Still, we are always on the lookout for bright, steady young fellows who mean business. So if you want to come, and will report here at sharp eleven oclock to-morrow morning, I will take you on trial till next Saturday and pay you at the rate of fifteen dollars per week.

CHAPTER III.

THE OLD GENTLEMAN OF THE OXYGEN

POOR Myles had met with so many rebuffs and disappointments, and his own opinion of himself had been so decidedly lowered that afternoon, that he was fully prepared to have his offer of service refused by the city editor of the Phonograph. He was therefore not at all surprised when Mr. Haxall began in his kindly but unmistakable way to tell him that there was no vacancy. He had already made up his mind to give up trying for a reporters position and make an effort in some other direction, when, to his amazement, he found himself accepted and ordered to report for duty the following day. It was incomprehensible. What had Van Cleef said to influence the city editor so remarkably?

There was no chance to ask just then, for Mr. Haxall had already resumed his reading of the evening papers, a great pile of which lay on his desk, and Myles realized that the short interview, by which the whole course of his life was to be affected, was at an end. So he merely said: Thank you, sir, Ill be on hand, and turned to follow Van Cleef, who had already started toward the door.

The boys mind was in a conflicting whirl of thoughts, and he was conscious of a decided sense of exaltation. He had actually got into business and was to receive a salary. To be sure, it was only promised for one week; but even in that short time he felt that he could prove so useful that the city editor would wonder how he had ever got along without him.

As they passed into the anteroom of the office Van Cleef introduced his companion to a Mr. Brown, a stout, middle-aged man, who occupied a dingy little den, in which he was busily writing by the light of a single gas-jet. Mr. Brown was affably condescending, was pleased to make Mr. Mannings acquaintance, and hoped he would like the office.

As they bade him good-evening and started downstairs Myles asked:

Who is this Mr. Brown, Van? Is he one of the editors?

Bless you, no, laughed Van Cleef. He is the janitor of the building.

The janitor! exclaimed Myles, with a slight tone of contempt in his voice. Why, I thought he must be the managing editor at the very least. What on earth did you want to introduce me to the janitor for? Im not in the habit of knowing such people.

Oh, you are not, arent you! replied Van Cleef, a little scornfully. Well, the sooner you form the habit the better you will get along as a reporter. Its no use putting on airs, old man, he continued, more kindly. A reporter has got to be on friendly terms with all sorts of men, from presidents to janitors, and a good deal lower in the social scale than that too. Besides, Brown is a mighty good fellow, as you will find out when you come to know him. He also occupies a position in which he can smooth your path or make you uncomfortable in many little ways, as he takes a notion. Why, for one thing, he has charge of all those rascals of office-boys, and they will treat you respectfully or the reverse according as they see that you are in Browns good or bad graces. That seems a little thing, but you will find that it makes a great difference to your peace of mind. Oh, yes, you must cultivate Brown by all means.

When they were seated in the elevated train on their way up-town Myles suddenly remembered his companions mysterious communication to the city editor, and asked him what he had said to cause Mr. Haxall to alter his decision so completely.

It was evident, he continued, that he was about to give me a polite dismissal, but you whispered a word or two in his ear and he immediately engaged me. What was it? Did you tell him I was one of the principal stockholders in the paper?

Van Cleef burst into a fit of laughter so uncontrollable that it was a full minute before he could answer. At last he said:

No, indeed; I didnt tell him that you were a stockholder in the paper; for, in the first place, I didnt know that you were. In the second place, the stockholders are the bane of his existence, and worry him more than anybody else by forcing worthless fellows, who have some claim upon them, into his department. Oh, no, I wasnt going to ruin your chances by representing you in any such unfavorable light as that.

What did you tell him then?

Why, I simply mentioned that you owned a dress-suit.

For a moment Myles stared at his companion in speechless amazement. Finally he gasped out:

A dress-suit! You told him that I owned a dress-suit! What in the name of common sense could that have to do with his taking me on as a reporter? Or are you only joking?

Not a bit of it, answered Van Cleef. It honestly was the dress-suit, and nothing else, unless it was your manner and personal appearance that fixed the business for you. You see, there are lots of places to which a city editor wishes to send a reporter where only fellows in full evening dress are admitted. Now, most reporters are too poor to own dress-suits, or else they have so little use for such luxuries that they dont care to go to the expense. Thus it is often hard for the city editor to find a man for some important bit of work just on this account. He therefore keeps a list of all the reporters on the staff who own swallow-tails, and is mighty glad to add to it, especially if the proposed addition is evidently a gentleman. I saw that he wasnt going to give you a show, and just then it occurred to me to suggest the only special recommendation I could think of. But what makes you look so downcast? It worked all right, didnt it?

Oh, yes, answered Myles, whose self-esteem had just received the severest shock of the day by learning the secret of his recent success, which he had fondly imagined was owing to something far different. Yes, it worked all right; but Ive always heard that clothes did not make the man, while here is proof positive that clothes can at least make a reporter. It is awfully humiliating, and the worst of it is that I havent a dress-suit.

Why, I have seen you wear it time and again? exclaimed Van Cleef.

Yes, but I found it necessary to raise a little ready money to-day, answered Myles, though he hated to make the admission; so I sold it along with some other things I thought I should never need again to Johnny, the old-clo man.

You dont mean it! cried Van Cleef. Well, that is bad, and the only thing for you to do is to go to Johnny first thing in the morning and make him let you have it back.

But I am afraid I havent money enough to redeem it, said Myles, with a heightened color. In the set to which he had so recently belonged poverty was the thing most sneered at, and Myles had not yet learned that it was one of the last things to be ashamed of.

Oh, I can make that all right, answered the other, cheerfully. I have a few dollars put away against next years term-bills, and you are more than welcome to them. Yes, indeed, you must take them, he added, earnestly, as he saw the shadow of a refusal in his companions face. We must get hold of that dress-suit again if it is a possible thing. It will really be doing me a favor besides; for while I have them Im always tempted to spend those dollars. If they are invested as a loan, though, I cant spend them, and I shall have the satisfaction of knowing they are safe.

Myles had tried, unsuccessfully, to borrow a small sum of money that morning from several of his wealthy classmates. Now, to have this generous offer made by one of the very poorest among them was so overwhelming that he hardly knew what to say. He hated to accept money from one who was so little able to spare it. He also feared to hurt his friends feelings by refusing, and he realized the importance of recovering that dress-suit. These thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant, and then he did exactly the right thing, by heartily thanking Van Cleef for his kind offer and accepting it.

The Oxygen was a club occupying a small but well appointed club-house, supported by one of the college Greek-letter fraternities of which Myles had recently been made a member. He was very proud of belonging to this, his first club, but he foresaw that, with his altered circumstances, it was a luxury that he could no longer afford. He had therefore made up his mind to hand in his resignation that very evening.

After a particularly nice little dinner, for Myles, like many another, was inclined to be very generous in the expenditure of his last dollar, and after he had written a line to his mother, the friends sat in the reading-room. Here they talked in low tones of their future plans and of their college life, which, to Myles, already seemed to belong to the dim past. The only other occupant of the room was a small, rather insignificant looking old gentleman, who was carelessly glancing over some papers at a table near them. Finally Van Cleef asked to be excused for a short time, as he had an errand that would take him a few blocks from there, and which must be done that evening.

He had hardly left when the old gentleman looked up from his papers and said to Myles:

I beg your pardon, but are you not Mr. Manning, captain of the X College Varsity crew?

Yes, sir, answered Myles, I am that is, I was I mean my name is Manning, and I was until this morning captain of the crew; but I have resigned.

Indeed! I am very sorry to hear it, replied the old gentleman, with an air of interest. Would you mind telling me why you found it necessary to do so? I am an old X College man myself, and take a great interest in all its athletic sports, especially its boating. I have been much pleased with the performance thus far of this years crew under your captaincy, and regret seriously that you feel obliged to give it up.

Encouraged by the old gentlemans friendly manner, and very grateful for his sympathy and kindly interest in himself, Myles readily answered his questions, and within a few minutes was surprised to find how freely he was talking to this stranger. He could not have told how it was brought about, but before their conversation ended he had confided to the other all his trials, plans, and hopes, including the facts that he was on the morrow to begin life as a reporter on the Phonograph, and that he intended resigning from the Oxygen that evening.

When Myles realized that he was becoming almost too confidential, and checked himself as he was about to relate the dress-suit incident, the old gentleman said:

I have been greatly interested in all this, and now, to show that I appreciate the confidence you have reposed in me, I am going to ask a favor of you.

Which I shall be only too happy to grant, sir, provided it lies within my power, answered Myles, who had taken a great fancy to the old gentleman.

It is that you will not resign from the Oxygen.

But I must, sir, much as I hate to.

Not necessarily, replied the other. You know that at the business meetings of the club all members are allowed to vote by proxy if they are unable to be personally present. Now I am nearly always compelled to be absent from these meetings. In fact, I rarely find time to visit the club at all; but, as one of its founders, I am most anxious for its success, and desirous of still having a voice in the conduct of its affairs. This I can only do by appointing a regular proxy, and if you will kindly consent to act as such for me I will gladly pay your dues to the club, and shall still consider myself under an obligation to you.

The temptation to accept this friendly proposal was so great that Myles only protested feebly against it. His faint objections were quickly overruled by the old gentleman, who had no sooner gained the others consent to remain in the club and act as his proxy than he looked at his watch and, exclaiming, Bless me, it is later than I thought! bade Myles a cordial good-night and hurried away.

What did you say his name was? asked Van Cleef, after he had returned and listened to Myles enthusiastic description of his new friend and account of their interview.

His name? repeated Myles, hesitatingly, why, I dont believe he mentioned it. Ill go and ask the door-tender.

But the door-tender had just been relieved and gone home, while the boy who acted in his place of course knew nothing of who had come or gone before he went on duty.

Well, that is good, laughed Van Cleef, when Myles returned and, with a crestfallen air, announced that he could not discover the name of the person for whom he had just consented to act as proxy. The old gentleman has shown himself to be a better reporter, or detective, which is much the same thing, than you, Manning. He has gained a full knowledge of you and your plans, while you have learned absolutely nothing about him. He may be an impostor, for all you know.

Not much he isnt, answered Myles, somewhat indignantly; Id trust his face for all that he claimed, and a good deal more beside. Anyhow he is a Psi Delt, for he had the grip.

Oh, well, said Van Cleef, good-naturedly, seeing that his companion was a little provoked at being thought easily imposed upon, I dare say its all right, and youll hear from him in some way or other.

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