“No, sir,” said Johnnie. “I don’t want anything more just now than a chance and enough to live on.” Then he added, “But I’ll try to deserve the raise before very long.” “You had better borrow a rabbit’s foot from Jimmy,” chuckled Mr. Johnson. “He carries them in every pocket. He has—excuse me, until I look at these.” A copy boy had just brought him proofs of Jimmy’s photographs. “Jimmy,” said the managing editor, after looking at the proofs, “just what breed of rabbit is it that you get your rabbit feet from? You have the greatest luck of any fellow I ever knew. You’ve got the most remarkable picture here that’s been taken since—since—well, since Clint Murphy snapped Forest O’Brine working on the engine of the endurance plane, the _St. Louis Robin_, 3,000 feet above the ground. That picture was a wonder. But you’ve got one here to equal it. It’s a close-up snap of that woman parachute jumper dangling from her plane.” “I’m mighty glad it came out good,” said Jimmy, “but I didn’t take it. Johnnie snapped all the photos while I flew the ship. It’s his picture, Mr. Johnson.” “It doesn’t matter who snapped the camera,” said the managing editor. “It took two of you to get it. We’ll surely beat the town on this.” “Yes, we shall,” replied Jimmy. “There wasn’t another plane in the air when she was performing except our two ships. Nobody else could have gotten a close-up of the thing.” “I’d just like to know, Jimmy,” grinned the managing editor, “exactly what breed of rabbit you cultivate. You take a tip from me, Johnnie, and get some feet from this same breed. Now you boys run along. I’ve got to get to work.” Jimmy introduced his friend to Mr. Davis, the city editor, who would henceforth be Johnnie’s boss. Then he made Johnnie known to several of the reporters. Finally the two young men left the office and went to Jimmy’s boarding house, for they had decided that they would room together. In a little while they were both asleep, but at intervals through the night Jimmy dreamed about the accident to the parachute jumper that he had witnessed. He saw little of Johnnie thereafter, for their hours did not synchronize. Most of the time Jimmy’s work was done in daylight hours, whereas Johnnie went to work early in the afternoon and worked until late at night. But they roomed together, sleeping in separate beds, and left notes for each other, and could of course see each other when occasion demanded.