"Which means plenty of work for us," commented Ralph. "It will mean plenty of work but it will have everyone talking about the _News_ being alive and wide awake and that's what we want. The _Advance_ is slipping every day and some morning this fall I wouldn't be surprised if we wake up and find that our rival paper has folded up and, like the Arabs, silently stolen away." "That won't hurt my feelings a bit," said Ralph. "The fellows on the _Advance_ have made it mighty tough for us these last few months. They lie, cheat and steal to get their stories and I've run into some actual bribery." "So have I, but it won't win for them in the long run. I'm glad we're working for a paper and an editor that's clean from top to bottom." Returning to his desk, Tim rummaged through the drawers until he found an aviation magazine which contained an illustrated sketch of Ace McDowell and his flying circus. McDowell was short and swarthy with eyes that were a little too close together to suit Tim. But the _News_ reporter knew that the head of the flying circus was a real flyer and would put on a good show. There was no sense in building up a prejudice just from a picture. Tim rolled a sheet of copy paper into his typewriter and after a moment's thought on the wording of his opening sentence, started hammering out the story announcing the coming of the flying circus. By the use of plenty of adjectives he contrived to write a full column and, after reading over the story and correcting one or two minor errors, he laid it on the copy desk. Dan Watkins, veteran head of the desk, looked up from beneath his green eye-shade. "Good story?" he asked. "One of the best you'll ever read when it comes to writing a lot from a little," grinned Tim. "As a matter of fact, Dan, we're promoting an air circus next Sunday and I have a hunch that Mr. Carson will want a full page headline on one of the inside pages tomorrow." The chief copyreader scanned the story with practiced eye. "I should say your hunch is correct. I'll mark it for an inside banner right now." The chief copyreader was the only one at the large desk and Tim sat down on the edge of the horseshoe-shaped work table. "I wish you had been at the airport this afternoon," he said. "You've an uncanny memory for faces and names and it would have come in handy." "See someone you couldn't place?" "There's something vaguely familiar about him. I've seen his picture some place and I've a hunch there's a mighty good story connected with his coming to Atkinson." "You can always ask them questions," grinned Dan. "I asked plenty of questions and didn't get a thing." "Wouldn't he talk?"