Chapter XVI: A Lesson in Journalism

Al laughed.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Read that interview with you in the _Banner_, and you'll find out. If you've been through half the startling adventures that the reporter says you have it is a wonder you are alive now."

Our hero opened the paper with a feeling of apprehension which proved to be well grounded.

Undoubtedly the interview would prove a good advertisement for the show, but it embarrassed Al greatly; he would gladly have given a hundred dollars to have been able to withdraw it. But it was too late for that now; already it had, doubtless, been read by half Rockton.

The reporter had not kept faith with him.

"If I say anything about your sister," he had told him, "it will only be a passing reference, couched in the most delicate terms."

But instead of that he had headed the article:

A BOY WONDER!

AN EXTRAORDINARY CAREER! A LONG-LOST SISTER!

And there were other headlines that startled and dismayed Al.

According to them he had been a lion hunter, a champion football and baseball player, an exceptional sprinter, and the greatest boxer of his age that the world had ever known.

"You must have made yourself mighty solid with the _Banner_ man to get an ad. like that," remarked the clerk. "It's simply great."

"I wish I hadn't succeeded in making myself quite so solid," groaned Al.

The clerk stared at him, asking in surprise:

"Don't you like the notice?"

"Hardly."

"What's the matter with it?"

"I'm not here to advertise myself but the New York Comedy Company."

"You're the first advance agent I ever saw who wasn't trying to advertise himself at the expense, if necessary, of his show."

"That isn't my way of doing business."

"Well, this article will boom the show, and don't you forget it. But if you don't like the headlines what will you think of the interview?"

Al sank into a chair and began a hasty perusal of the article.

He was dismayed at the reporter's audacity; the information he had given the man had been so altered and distorted that he could only dimly recognize himself in the hero of the newspaper man's weird fancy.

The interview was in the highest degree complimentary--at least from its writer's standpoint; it was evident that the reporter had written it in a friendly spirit, and with the intention of giving its subject a good "send off."

The portion that referred to his sister annoyed Al the most. It was near the end of the two-column article, and read as follows:

"But the life of the hero of this strange, though
strictly authentic, tale has not been entirely one of
adventurous pleasure. Deep in his heart he carries a
sorrow about which he was extremely reticent to speak
to the _Banner_ reporter. In referring to it this lad,
who has faced dangers from which many a stalwart man
would shrink appalled, wept like a child. Years ago he
lost an idolized sister. She was taken from the home
of which she was the pride, not by the hand of death,
but by that of a kidnaper. The story is a most
romantic one. The little child was playing one morning
on the sloping lawn in front of her father's palatial
country seat in Tarrytown, adjoining that of the late
Jay Gould. Her nurse was called away for a few
moments. During the woman's absence the child
disappeared. What became of it? Alas! to this day no
one save the ruthless destroyer of the happiness of
this once peaceful home knows. It was rumored that a
rejected suitor of the little girl's mother was the
villain, but nothing was ever proven against him. The
father of the child died of a broken heart, and his
wife would, without doubt, have soon followed him to
the grave had it not been for her boy--the subject of
this necessarily incomplete article. For his sake she
resolved to live. When he was but four years of age
she made him promise her that he would devote his life
to solving the mystery of his sister's fate."

Al looked up from the paper, his face white with anger.

"The villain!" he exclaimed.

The clerk looked up in surprise.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Have you read this thing?" Al demanded.

"Why, yes."

"The part that speaks of my long-lost sister?"

"All of it. Of course, it's a fake, but nine people in ten will swallow it whole."

"I don't want anyone to believe it."

"You don't?"

"Of course I don't."

"Then why did you grant him the interview?"

"Because he insisted, and because he promised me that everything should be printed just as I gave it to him."

The clerk laughed.

"It's evident," he said, "that you have not enjoyed a very extensive acquaintance with reporters."

"I've known several, but none like this fellow."

"He's considered one of the smartest men in his line in the State."

"Well, I'd like to interview him just now."

"What would you say?"

"I'd at least give him my opinion of his methods."

"You wouldn't have a chance."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You have met him once, and you ought to know. Why, he wouldn't give you an opportunity to get in a word edgewise. Anyhow, I don't see what you are kicking about; you've got the best ad. of the season free of cost. Hello! here comes your reporter now. If you want to go for him you have your chance."

While the clerk was speaking the little reporter of the _Banner_ who had interviewed Al only a few hours before entered.

The boy strode toward him.

"You're just the man I want to see," he began.

The scribe pretended not to notice the look of anger in his face. Seizing his hand and holding it tightly, he said:

"And you're just the person I want to see. There are one or two little mistakes in that interview of ours, and I was looking for you to find out whether the fault lies with you or me. But the article shows up well, doesn't it?"

"I----"

"Don't say another word."

"But----"

"I know exactly what you are going to say, but it will be all right next time. It was the fault of the compositor that your name was spelled wrong."

"I wasn't----"

"I was going to ask you whether it was three men or only two that you knocked out at that scrap referred to in the second column; I'm afraid I got that wrong. But never mind, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, anyhow. He! he! he!"

"No such incident ever occurred, and I----"

"Tut! tut!" interrupted the reporter, with a shocked look. "What made you tell me the yarn, then?"

"I----"

"Never mind, we'll have to let it go now; and, after all, it doesn't make much difference. But you ought to be more particular in talking to reporters in the future, my dear young friend."

"If I----"

"Oh, that's all right---- No thanks. Hello! there goes a man I've got to see right now. S'long!"

And the scribe rushed out, leaving Al staring helplessly after him.

"Isn't he a dandy?" said the hotel clerk, admiringly. "You'll never catch him. The traditional Frenchman's flea was a graven image compared with that fellow. In your line of business you can profit by the lesson he has just given you. He is an artist in 'bluffing.'"

Before Al could reply Mr. Wattles entered the office and approached him with outstretched hand.