Three men set to work to do over again the report that Dick had made a failure with! He was ready to sink through the floor, but he sat down and gave Mr. Herrick as complete an account of the meeting as he could. It was easy to see now that the news was of importance, and he wondered at himself for not seeing it before. The order for four or five lines had misled him. Before one o’clock the new report was ready, nearly a column of it, the different parts of it neatly joined together by Mr. Herrick. Oh, how skilfully that man handled the matter, Dick thought, and how well he knew just where to bring in Mr. Black’s part of the story and Mr. Banks’ biography. “A nice thing to have to tell mother and Florrie,” Dick said to himself as he went sadly down the stairs; “to make such a break as that, and have my work done over again. I’m afraid I haven’t got the brains to work for a big city paper, that’s about the amount of it. Anyhow I don’t suppose they’ll want me any longer now that they see what I am. It will seem hard to go back to washing rollers and sweeping out the office after thinking myself a reporter; but it’s all my own stupidity.” Turning one of the sharp corners at a landing, Dick almost ran into Dr. Goode, who had been out eating his midnight lunch. The doctor wore only one pair of glasses now, and he had to look closely to see who was before him. “Oh, it’s you, Sumner, is it?” he asked as he recognized the new reporter. “I see you had a little misfortune with your assignment to-night. But never mind, my boy;” and he laid his hand kindly on Dick’s shoulder. “Such things happen to new men sometimes; we rather expect them. It’s not the first mistake we mind, but having the same mistake made over and over. Keep your spirits up, and you’ll soon be doing some good work for us.” CHAPTER III. THE STOLEN LOCOMOTIVE. “Well, Mr. Sumner, your assignment last night turned out larger than we expected,” the city editor said when Dick reported in the office next morning. Dick had spent a miserable night, and he anticipated at least a severe lecture. But the editor’s manner was kind and reassuring. “Yes, sir,” he answered, “the stonecutters had a very lively meeting, and I ought to have known that it was an important piece of news. I’ll try to use better judgment next time, sir.” “Oh, I think you’ll soon learn,” the editor said. “We don’t expect you to have much experience on your first day. You see when I tell you to write four or five lines, that is with the expectation that the matter will be of no importance. Something unexpected may happen and make it worth two or three columns. You will find it a good plan always to tell your facts briefly to the night city editor when you come in, and he will tell you about how much to write.” Several of the older reporters were ready to talk to Dick when he took his seat. It was easy for them to see that he was worried over his mistake, and they felt sorry for him.