Chapter IV: Hawley’s Contribution

“Thanks, old man,” said the Camera Chap to Carroll, as the boy went off to deliver this message. “But I hope this defiance of the police won’t get you into any trouble?”

“I think not,” the editor replied. “You haven’t committed a murder, or any crime of a serious nature, have you?”

“No, indeed,” Hawley assured him. “All I did was to take a snapshot. But I wasn’t referring to trouble with the authorities. What I meant was that I hope this won’t get you in bad with the owner of this paper. The chief of police doesn’t happen to be a friend of his, does he?”

“No,” replied Carroll grimly. “I assure you that fat bully of a chief is far from being a friend of mine.”

“But I said the owner of the paper,” Hawley protested.

Carroll grinned. “My dear Hawley, the owner of the Oldham _Daily Bulletin_ sits before you now.”

The Camera ’Chap stared at him in astonishment. “You?” he cried half incredulously.

“Exactly,” chuckled Carroll. “I suppose it looks queer to you to see the proprietor of the sheet holding down the job of city editor, but I am only filling this chair during the absence of its regular occupant. My city editor is laid up with an attack of inflammatory rheumatism, so I undertook to do his work.”

Still Hawley appeared incredulous. Two years before, Fred Carroll had been earning thirty dollars a week as a reporter on the New York _Sentinel_, and the Camera Chap recalled that he had always been notoriously hard up in those days. Where on earth could he have got hold of enough money to buy a newspaper?

As though reading his thoughts, Carroll said, with a laugh: “I suppose you’re wondering how I managed to raise the necessary dough to acquire this progressive, aggressive, and fearlessly independent sheet? No need to tell you that I didn’t save it out of the measly wages the Sentinel paid me. The fact is, Hawley, I came into a little change after I got fired from the _Sentinel_ for getting them into that confounded libel suit. A wealthy relative of mine over in England cashed in his chips, and mentioned me in his will to the extent of fifteen thousand. I was tipped off that this paper was on the market, and could be had at that figure, so I came here and bought it. There’s the whole story in a nutshell--or pretty near the whole story.”

Hawley doubted no longer. He could see now that Carroll wasn’t joking, and he had never known him to be guilty of falsehood.

“I’m tickled to death to hear this good news, old chap,” he said, grabbing his friend’s hand enthusiastically. “Let me offer you my congratulations, even though they’re tardy. You certainly are a lucky fellow.”

A wry smile came to Carroll’s face. “Not quite as lucky as you imagine,” he said grimly. “Better take back your congratulations, Hawley. It is true that I’m the owner of a newspaper now, but--you’re likely to meet me on Park Row hunting for a job in the very near future.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” the Camera Chap inquired solicitously. “You don’t mean to say that the paper isn’t a success, old man?”

Carroll shrugged his broad shoulders. “When I tell you that I had to hock my watch yesterday in order to pay my board bill, you will doubtless gather that the Oldham _Daily Bulletin_ isn’t exactly a gold mine,” he replied dryly.

“Ye gods!” exclaimed Hawley. “And I always had an idea that newspaper owners were bloated plutocrats.”

“Some are,” was the grim reply. “But I guess I’m far from being the only New York newspaper man who has tried to run a small town daily and made a fizzle of it.”

“What seems to be the main trouble?” the Camera Chap inquired. “I should think that a paper with a motto like yours was bound to be a winner. Progressive, aggressive, and fearlessly independent--that’s a mighty fine catch line, Fred. The population of Oldham certainly ought to rally to the support of a sheet which has such an attractive policy.”

The owner of the _Bulletin_ shook his head. “Yes, they ought to--but they don’t. The fact is, Hawley, that, from the standpoint of dollars and cents, being aggressive and fearlessly independent in a town like this doesn’t pay. The first thing I did after acquiring control of the _Bulletin_,” he went on, with a frown, “was to declare war against the city government. From a financial standpoint, that was a disastrous mistake.”

“Why did you do it?” the Camera Chap inquired.

“Because,” replied Carroll, his frown deepening, “I simply couldn’t stand for the methods of the gang which is running things in this town. They’re the rawest, nerviest, crookedest bunch of grafters that ever had control of a city government. Compared to them, New York’s old Tweed ring was a bunch of angels. I made up my mind that the _Bulletin_ was going to sweep them out of office. I announced that intention in an editorial on my front page the very first day the sheet appeared under my management.”

“That sounds interesting,” exclaimed Hawley, an appreciative flash in his blue eyes. “What was the result?”

Carroll laughed grimly. “The result was that I lost pretty nearly all my advertising. It seems that most of the big advertisers of this town are allied in one way or another with that bunch of grafters at the city hall. I didn’t know this when I started out to fight the administration. Although, even if I had known it, it wouldn’t have made any difference,” he added, his strong under jaw thrust forward aggressively. “I should have gone ahead just the same, of course.”

“Bully for you, old man!” exclaimed the Camera Chap. “So those lobsters tried to put you out of business by withdrawing their advertising, eh?”

“Yes; and that wasn’t all. That gang of grafters started in to retaliate by using the powers of the city government against the _Bulletin_. They stayed up nights thinking of ways to harass me. The police department, the fire department, and all the departments have received orders to refuse to give the _Bulletin_ reporters any news. The police arrest the drivers of my delivery wagons on all sorts of trumped-up charges whenever they get the chance. The gas, water, and electricity department is always finding fault with conditions in the Bulletin Building. These are only a few of the dirty tricks those rascals have resorted to in their efforts to put me out of business.”

“And you’ve been fighting back all the time, of course?” inquired Hawley anxiously.

Carroll looked at him reproachfully. “I thought you knew me too well to ask such a superfluous question,” he said in a hurt tone. “Of course, I’ve been hammering at them just as hard as I know how, and intend to keep it up while there’s breath left in the _Bulletin_.

“But I’m afraid it’s a losing fight,” he went on sadly. “I don’t mind admitting to you, old man, that they’ve got me groggy. Without any advertising worth speaking of, and with my sources of news crippled, it looks as if the days of the _Bulletin_ were numbered, and its finish already in sight.”

“How about your circulation?” the Camera Chap inquired. “Surely that must have gained? You don’t mean to say that the people haven’t supported you in this laudable fight?”

Carroll shrugged his shoulders. “Not so that you could notice it. It is true that at first my campaign against the grafters got us a lot of new readers. But the circulation figures soon dwindled. The population of Oldham seemed to lose interest in the fight. Besides, I was discredited at the start.”

“Discredited! How?” the Camera Chap demanded in astonishment.

The proprietor of the _Bulletin_ smiled grimly. “There’s a rival sheet here--the _Chronicle_. It is the administration organ--which means, of course, that its proprietor is hand and glove with that gang of crooks at the city hall. The _Chronicle_ happened to learn that I was formerly a reporter on the New York _Sentinel_, and that I was discharged from that paper for getting it into a libel suit. That information was pie to those crooks. The _Chronicle_ published it on its front page in red type. It gave all the details of that unfortunate libel suit, insinuated that I had been forced to come to Oldham because no New York newspaper would hire me after my discharge from the _Sentinel_, and warned the public not to pay any attention to my ’base and slanderous attacks upon the virtuous and public-spirited gentlemen who were giving Oldham the best government it had ever enjoyed.’ Of course, this has hurt me a lot. The _Chronicle_ keeps it prominently displayed on its front page every day, and, as I have said, I am pretty much discredited.”

“That was a dirty trick,” declared Hawley indignantly. “Who is the proprietor of the _Chronicle_?”

“A lean old fox named Gale.”

“Gale!” the Camera Chap repeated, with an inflection of astonishment. “That’s a queer coincidence. Doesn’t happen to be any relative of the reporter by the same name on the staff of the New York _Daily News_, does he, Fred?”

Carroll grinned. “Yes, Hawley, the proprietor of the Oldham _Chronicle_ is the father of your old enemy, Gale, of the _News_. I can assure you, he’s a chip of the young block, too--several chips, in fact.”

The Camera Chap frowned. “I recall now that somebody once told me that Gale’s father was the proprietor of a small paper,” he said. “I guess, Fred, it was the younger Gale who supplied the Oldham _Chronicle_ with the information about that unfortunate libel suit of yours.”

“I haven’t the slightest doubt of that,” Carroll answered. “He and I never did get along together when I was on Park Row. In fact, I had occasion to punch his head only a few days before I got fired from the _Sentinel_. I guess he was tickled to death to have a chance to get back at me.”

Their conversation was interrupted at this point by a young man whose face wore a depressed, anxious expression as he stepped up to the editorial desk.

“Mr. Carroll,” he said gloomily, “I’m sorry to have to tell you that we’re going to be badly scooped in the next issue.”

“How so, Parsons?” the acting city editor demanded sharply.

“There’s been a big burglary in town,” announced Parsons, who was the _Bulletin’s_ police reporter.

“A burglary--where?” Carroll demanded.

“That’s what I can’t find out, sir. I overheard two detectives talking about it together at headquarters early this morning, but as soon as they caught sight of me they dropped the subject in a hurry. I’ve been scurrying around town all morning in the hope of finding somebody who could tell me who was robbed, but I haven’t been able to pick up anything. I tried to get an interview with Chief Hodgins, but he refused, as usual, to talk to a _Bulletin_ man.”

“Humph!” Carroll grunted. “And you think the _Chronicle_ has the yarn, Parsons?”

“I am quite sure they have, sir,” was the mournful reply. “One of the detectives admitted to me that Burns, the _Chronicle’s_ police reporter, had all the details, and a long interview with Chief Hodgins. I’m awfully sorry, sir. I hope you don’t blame me for falling down on the yarn.”

Carroll got up and placed his hand on his reporter’s shoulder. “No, I don’t blame you at all, old chap. Considering the difficulties under which you are working, I can’t reasonably hold it against you if you get scooped occasionally on a police story. Keep pegging away, and don’t get discouraged. Better spend the rest of the day trying to get a line on this burglary yarn. You may be fortunate enough to run into somebody who can give you some information about it. If not--well, I guess we’ll have to grin and bear it.”

A chuckle from the Camera Chap caused him to turn to that young man in indignant astonishment.

“What’s the matter with you?” Carroll demanded irritably. “I don’t see anything to be amused about.”

“Don’t you?” rejoined Hawley, with a grin, taking a plate holder from his camera and laying it on the desk. “I think you’ll be amused, too, Fred, when I tell you what I’ve got here. Would you mind handing me a pad and pencil?”

“What are you going to do?” Carroll demanded wonderingly, as he handed over the desired writing implements.

“I’m going to write a heading for the burglary story which will appear on the front page of the _Bulletin’s_ next issue,” the Camera Chap replied.

“But we haven’t got the burglary story?” Carroll protested, with a puzzled frown.

“Pardon me, but I have. It’s here in this plate holder,” declared Hawley. “I don’t mean to say that we’ve got the details of the larceny--but we’ve got something just as good--or better. Wait until I’ve written my heading, and I’ll explain.”

He wrote rapidly on the pad, and handed the result to Carroll.

“Writing headings is a little out of my line,” he remarked; “but I think this will about do.”

Carroll stared wonderingly at these words.

“There Was a Burglary in Town Yesterday, and Here’s the Reason Why.”

“Underneath that heading,” the Camera Chap explained, in response to Carroll’s inquiring stare, “will go the snapshot which I took at police headquarters a few minutes ago. It’s a picture of Oldham’s chief of police, fast asleep at his desk.”