“I guess Mac only wanted to see what you could do,” explained the albino, as we swallowed “sinkers” (heavy dough scones) and gulped down coffee at Childs’ Cheap Lunch Counter round the corner. Whitey had invited me to lunch; he “put me wise” about a thousand things; showed me how to make a bit on my weekly expense-account, if I wanted to; how one could “sneak off” about five o’clock, if one knew the way; and, most useful of all, warned me as to accuracy in my facts and the right way to present them. A “story” whether it was the weather story or a murder story, should give in a brief first paragraph the essential facts--this satisfied the busy man who had no time to read more; the second paragraph should amplify these facts--for those who wanted to know more; afterwards--for those interested personally in the story--should come “any stuff you can pick up.” An item that seemed exclusive--a “scoop” or “beat” he called it--should come in the very beginning, so as to justify the headlines. “Whitey” was always a good friend to me. “Make friends with the reporters on other papers,” he advised, “then you won’t get badly left on the story you’re all ‘covering.’ Most of ’em give up all right.” He gave me names of sundry who never “gave up,” skunks he called them. As we hurried back to the office half an hour later, he dived into a drug store on the ground floor. The way most of the reporters frequented this drug store puzzled me for a time, till I learned that whisky was to be had there in a little back room. The chemist had no license, but by paying a monthly sum to the ward man of the district--part of immense revenues paid to Tammany by every form of law-breaking, from gambling-halls and disorderly houses to far graver things--he was allowed to dispense liquor. It was a pretty system, marvellously organized down to the lowest detail; cash to the ward man opened most doors; a policeman paid $300 before he even got a nomination on the force; vice paid gigantic tribute; but the people liked a Tammany Government because “they knew where they were” with it, though the _Sun_, my paper, was the only journal that boldly supported it--for which Charles A. Dana was forever being attacked. I acquired much inside experience of the secret workings of Tammany Hall before my newspaper days came to an end.... It appalled me.