The Old Reporter
Billy Woods's great chance came in this way: A big piece of news had come into existence, and the morning papers each had at least two columns about it. But none of them had been able to cover a most important point in it. So there was a good "second day" story for the afternoon papers, just the sort of story Billy Woods, the old Billy Woods, could have run down. Now at rare intervals the old Billy Woods cropped out. It was on that chance that the city editor of a certain afternoon paper was saying: "Now, Woods, you are a drunkard. I want you to understand me; you are not a member of the staff unless you run down this story. If you get the story you get the job. If you can't find the story you'll have to look for another job. That's plain." Billy knew he was considered a drunkard, so he thanked the kind editor for giving him a chance.
"Have you any change?" asked the city editor. "Well, here's an order on the cashier. There, that'll pay car-fare and a telephone, if you have to telephone. Now skip out and make your best time. Oh, say,
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