"I know. But we just can't have any more stories like the one on the Holzheimer case." Sanders leaned forward at his desk, his eyes suddenly shrewd. "What's eating on you, Terry?" Bryan shrugged. "Things like the Holzheimer business." "It's all part of a system," Sanders said slowly. "You can't change that system any more than you can change human nature, Terry. All you can do is make the best of it. I hope you'll look at it that way. I've seen too many good reporters go sour over what they keep running into." A telephone jangled on the desk. Sanders spoke into it briefly and returned his attention to Bryan. "Working on anything now, Terry?" Bryan explained about the three weirdly afflicted men who had been found in Grant Park. "I'm planning to look into it," he finished. "Sounds like something big is involved," Sanders approved. "Go ahead with it, Terry.... And take things easy, will you?" he added as Bryan started toward the door. "Sure," Bryan said. Back at his desk, Bryan finished typing his copy. He was pencilling corrections when Joyce Mayhew appeared. "Hi, Terry!" She perched on the edge of a neighboring desk, a slim dark girl with a wide humorous mouth and expressive hazel eyes. She was simply dressed as always, but gave a characteristic impression of fashionable elegance. "What have you got there--a scoop, or a love letter?" "It could be my last will and testament," Bryan said. He stood up and called to a copyboy. "Have you had lunch?" he asked Joyce, then. "I was hoping somebody would ask me. Somebody like you, Terry." "Consider yourself asked. Let's go." * * * * * They sat in a booth in a small restaurant on a side street near the _Courier_ Building. Joyce's eyes were grave as she studied Bryan's face over the top of her menu. "Anything in that last will and testament crack you made, Terry?" she asked at last. "I saw you come out of Sanders' office." He shrugged, mobile lips twisting into a wry grin. "Nothing that serious. I just had my wrist slapped. Over the way I handled the Holzheimer story." "There was quite a bit of talk about that up at the office. Sanders let you off easy. But Terry, you seem to have been hitting out at things a little too hard. What's the matter--a disappointed love life?" "You know as much about my love life as I do." "Really?" She looked down to finger a spoon, sudden pain and wistfulness in her averted face. "I saw Dave at the County Hospital," he went on. "You remember Dave." "Yes--and his wife's cooking and his lovely children." "Dave mentioned you. He seemed to feel I've been neglecting him." "Maybe you've been neglecting a lot of people, Terry."