as all the millions of dollars of all the vested interests of America can build it. I first telephoned, and then sent a letter by special messenger to the proper officials of the Associated Press, but they would have absolutely nothing to do with me or my news. Not only on that day, but throughout my entire campaign against the Beef Trust, they never sent out a single line injurious to the interests of the packers, save for a few lines dealing with the Congressional hearings, which they could not entirely suppress.
It is the thesis of this book that American newspapers as a whole represent private interests and not public interests. But there will be occasions upon which exception to this rule is made; for in order to be of any use at all, the newspapers must have circulation, and to get circulation they must pretend to care about the public. There is keen competition among them, and once in a while it will happen that a "scoop" is too valuable to be thrown away. Newspapermen are human, and cannot be blamed by their owners if now and then they yield to the temptation to publish the news. So I had found it with "Everybody's Magazine," and so now I found it when I went with my suit-case full of documents to the office of the "New York Times."
I arrived about ten o'clock at night, having wasted the day waiting upon the Associated Press. I was received by C. V. Van Anda, managing editor of the "Times" — and never before or since have I met such a welcome in a newspaper office. I told them I had the entire substance of the confidential report of Roosevelt's investigating committee, and they gave me a private room and two expert stenographers, and I talked for a few minutes to one stenographer, and then for a few minutes to the other stenographer, and so the story was dashed off in about an hour. Knowing the "Times" as I have since come to know it, I have often wondered if they would have published this story if they had had twenty-four hours to think, and to be interviewed by representatives of the packers. But they didn't have twenty four hours, they only had two hours. They were caught in a whirlwind of excitement, and at one o'clock in the morning my story was on the press, occupying a part of the front page and practically all of the second page. The question had been raised as to how the story should be authenticated. The "Times" met the problem by putting the story under a Washington "date-line" — that is, they told their
