“That doesn’t matter,” was the reassuring response. “Age is of no consequence. It is ability that counts, Mr. Miggles.” “And I ain’t had an experience at reporting,” Miggles went on, hanging his head. “I’ve been doing--er--inside work.” Gale received this admission with a pleasant smile. “Lack of experience isn’t of much consequence, either, Mr. Miggles,” he said. “As a matter of fact, we prefer to take on green reporters and train them to our ways. So don’t let those things worry you, old man.” Miggsy’s face lighted up at these words. “All right, then,” he cried eagerly. “If that’s the case, I’m on.” With a smile of satisfaction, Gale hurriedly led the boy to the Chronicle Building, and bade him wait in the editorial room while he went in to have a short preliminary talk with his father in the latter’s private office. A few minutes later Gale came to the door of the private office, and beckoned to Miggsy to enter. “I’ve paved the way for you,” he whispered to the boy. “Put up a good front, now, and you’ll surely get the job.” The old gentleman with the white mutton-chop whiskers who was seated at a desk in the center of the room smiled benevolently at his youthful visitor. “How do you do, young man?” he said. “Pray be seated. My son has been telling me that you would like a position on the _Chronicle’s_ reportorial staff.” “If you please, sir,” returned Miggsy, sitting on the extreme edge of a chair and fidgeting nervously with his hat. Not that Miggsy was habitually shy, or easily put out of countenance, but the momentousness of this occasion had got upon his nerves. “Humph!” grunted the elder Gale, looking keenly at the boy. “It seems to me that you are somewhat young to be a reporter.” “I can do the work, sir,” declared Miggsy. “And--I expect to grow, sir.” The proprietor of the _Chronicle_ appeared to be greatly tickled by this answer. “You expect to grow!” he echoed, with a chuckle. “That’s pretty neat. Very well said, young man. I see you have wit. That is an important qualification in newspaper work. Besides, my son, here, approves of you. In fact, I may say, young man, that he has taken a great fancy to you; and I have implicit confidence in my son’s judgment. Therefore I am inclined, in spite of your exceedingly youthful appearance, to give you a chance.” He turned to his son inquiringly. “What do you think we had better give this young man to do?” “I thought we might put him in Tomlinson’s place, to cover police,” the younger Gale suggested. The proprietor of the _Chronicle_ leaned back in his chair and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Humph! I don’t know. Covering police is a pretty difficult assignment. It requires ingenuity and nerve. Do you think this young man has ingenuity and nerve?” “I feel sure that he has,” declared the younger Gale stoutly. “I am confident that Mr. Miggles will make good, governor.” “Sure!” exclaimed Miggsy eagerly. “You just try me, sir.”