“It ain’t a question of nerve, boss,” protested Miggsy plaintively. “I ain’t afraid to do it. I ain’t afraid of anything. But it wouldn’t be honest. It would be stealing--this thing that you want me to do.” The younger Gale frowned. “Nonsense!” he said sharply. “You mustn’t talk like that, Mr. Miggles. Do you think for a minute that my father or I would ask you to steal? You ought to be ashamed of yourself for suggesting such a thing.” The boy looked puzzled. “Well, you want me to swipe them pictures from the _Bulletin’s_ photo-engraving room, and bring them to you, don’t you?” he asked. “Ain’t that stealin’?” “Certainly not,” replied the younger Gale indignantly; “not when it’s done for a newspaper. Circumstances alter cases, you know, Mr. Miggles. In newspaper work lots of things are justified which might be looked upon as wrong in ordinary life.” “Very true,” chimed in the proprietor of the _Chronicle_. “A newspaper reporter on an assignment is just like a soldier in time of war, young man. He must recognize no law save the law of doing his duty--of carrying out the orders of his superior officers. It wouldn’t do, you know, for our troops to refuse to shoot at the enemy on the grounds that it is wrong to shed human blood. Yet a soldier would have just as much reason to argue that killing is murder, as you have to argue that--ahem--obtaining those pictures for the _Chronicle_ would be larceny. As my son has very properly remarked, circumstances alter cases.” Miggsy was somewhat dazzled by this sophistry. “I suppose there’s somethin’ in that,” he muttered hesitatingly. “You can bet there’s a whole lot in it,” declared the younger Gale. “My father has put the case very well, I think. If you had ever worked on a big New York newspaper, Mr. Miggles, you wouldn’t hesitate for a minute about covering this assignment. In New York reporters are called upon to do little things of this sort quite frequently. It is looked upon as perfectly proper.” This argument had great weight with Miggsy. He knew that this nattily dressed young man had been a reporter on a New York newspaper, and therefore might well be considered an authority on Park Row journalistic ethics. And if it was perfectly proper to steal for a newspaper in New York, thought the boy, then, likewise, it must be perfectly proper to commit larceny for a newspaper in Oldham. His opposition began to waver. “But let us have no further discussion about the matter, my son,” cried the elder Gale impatiently. “If this young man does not care to undertake this assignment, we certainly have no wish to persuade him to do so. Of course, we do not really need those pictures. I merely suggested the assignment as a means of testing his courage and ingenuity. We will let the matter drop. No doubt I shall easily be able to find somebody else to cover police for the _Chronicle_. At fifteen dollars a week we ought to have no difficulty in getting a man for the job.”