“Oh, you needn’t worry about that!” the man laughed. “I suppose you are on salary, so you’ll soon have enough to do. You’ll only get little jobs at first, till they see what you can do. Thought of going out to try and pick up some news? Oh, you couldn’t do that. We very seldom pick up news. You see that book on the city editor’s desk? That is what we call the assignment book. The city editor knows everything that should happen in the city to-day, all the routine things, and he makes a list of them in his book. Then he assigns one man to attend to each thing. There’s a conference in the mayor’s office at three o’clock, and he wants Jack Randall to attend to it (I’m Jack Randall); so he writes my name opposite the entry, and that’s my business for the afternoon. I must be off. If you get stuck on anything, come to me and I’ll help you out. Ta-ta.” Handsome Jack Randall tapped Dick lightly on the shoulder and was off, little thinking how much pleasanter he had made the day for the new reporter. By three o’clock Dick began to feel the gnawings of hunger; but his new friend Randall was gone, and he had no one to ask what was the reporters’ lunch hour. After some hesitation he stepped up to the city editor and asked:-- “Could I go out for a few minutes to get something to eat, sir?” Mr. Brown leaned far back in his armchair and looked Dick pleasantly in the face, in a very reassuring manner. “Go out just whenever you like, Mr. Sumner,” he answered, “and eat all you want. You don’t need to ask permission. And when you come back make yourself as comfortable as you can. We don’t have any slave rules in the Transport office.” It was new to Dick to feel at liberty to go in and out as he liked. One of the cheap restaurants in the neighborhood of Printing House Square supplied the food he needed, and he was soon back in his chair. He saw that the city editor had a pile of fresh newspapers on his desk, and was busy reading them. They were the early editions of the afternoon papers. “Mr. Sumner!” said the editor, looking toward Dick; and Dick hastened to him. Here was work evidently for him to do, and he was anxious to make a beginning. The editor had a small clipping in his hand, just cut from one of the newspapers. “Here is something for you to do this evening, Mr. Sumner,” the editor said. “There is to be a meeting of the Stonecutters’ Protective Union, in Germania Hall, that you can attend. They seldom do anything but make speeches, and the whole thing probably will not be worth more than four or five lines. But you must always be on the lookout for anything unusual, of course, that might make it of more importance. Hand your copy to the night city editor; and have it in as early as you can, please.”