The young reporter : $b A story of Printing House SquareDrysdale, William
General
The young reporter : $b A story of Printing House Square
Drysdale, William
Journalism -- Juvenile literature
“But you wouldn’t close at eight with a two thousand word special in
sight, would you?” Dick asked. He knew that a month’s regular business
in the office would hardly amount to two thousand words.
“We close at eight o’clock!” was the only reply; and the operator said
it very decidedly.
“Well, suppose I pay you a couple of dollars for your trouble in
keeping open?” Dick suggested.
“Can’t be done!” the operator snarled. “I tell you we close at eight
o’clock.”
“Then maybe five dollars would make it an object to you?”
“No, nor five hundred!” snapped the operator. “I have an engagement
to-night, and I wouldn’t keep the office open for fifty specials.”
The situation was growing serious. He must get the special off, and
there was no other telegraph office within reach. Dick had had some
experience with unaccommodating operators, but precisely such a refusal
as this he had not met before. He thought it over for a few moments and
then said quietly:--
“Let me have a blank, please.”
The operator pushed a pad of blanks through the window, and Dick wrote
this message:--
Superintendent Western Union, New York.
Please instruct Princeton operator to keep open till midnight
for two thousand word Transport special.
RICHARD SUMNER, _Transport Correspondent_.
Usually newspaper dispatches are sent “collect”; that is, they are paid
not for at the sending office, but are charged to the newspaper and
paid in the monthly bill. But Dick laid a silver half-dollar on top of
his dispatch, as he pushed it back to the operator, to make sure.
As the operator picked up the message and read it his face flushed.
“Oh, say!” he exclaimed; “you don’t need to send this message. I’ll
keep open for you all night. If you were to send that, they’d make
inquiries why you had to send it, and then they’d bounce me, sure.”
It was precisely what Dick had anticipated; he was sure the operator
would not let the message go through; for a two thousand word special
is not to be despised even by a great telegraph company, and the
company would not have much further use for an operator who refused one.
“Of course they would,” he answered; “but that is your affair, not
mine. My business is to get my dispatch through, even though it gives
you some extra work. As you agree to keep open for me you can tear the
dispatch up and give me back the money; but I give you fair warning
that if you close the office I shall have to report you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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