It was as small and unimportant an assignment as was given out that day in the office; but small as it looked it was destined to help Dick to a better standing on the Transport. The subject of tugboats running about the harbor without proper lights came up at the meeting, and one of the Commissioners told of a thrilling experience he had had a few nights before, while taking the Vice-President of the United States down the harbor in a Revenue Cutter. A tug carrying no lights lay directly in the cutter’s way in the Swash Channel, and the cutter almost ran her down in the darkness. The Vice-President’s life, the speaker said, and the lives of all on board the cutter were put in great danger. This caught Dick’s attention at once. “The Vice-President in danger because a New York tug carried no lights!” he said to himself. “It seems to me that ought to make a story that people would like to read. I wonder whether my chance has come at last. I’ll not miss it this time at any rate.” He took full notes of the story, and as soon as the meeting was over he returned to the office and reported to the city editor, telling him briefly what he had heard. “That’s good, Mr. Sumner, that’s good,” the editor replied. “We want that by all means. Write it up as fully as you think the facts will stand.” Dick felt his hand shaking when he began to write. It was his first real chance since the night when he wrote an account of the governor’s accident--except, of course, the chance that he let slip. Besides, he had not written enough yet to forget that he was writing for more than a hundred thousand readers. But the excitement wore off as he grew more interested in the subject, and when he finished he had written a plain but exciting account of the Vice-President’s adventure, enough to fill about two thirds of a column in the paper. It was almost exasperating to him to see the matter-of-fact way in which his copy was received; how it was laid under a paper-weight with a dozen other articles, to remain there unnoticed until the night city editor came and in its turn passed judgment upon it. He was sent out immediately on another mission, and it was not till late that night that he heard anything about it. Then it was the ever kindly Dr. Goode, the night editor, who mentioned it. “O Sumner, see here a moment,” the doctor called, adjusting his two pairs of glasses. As Dick approached his desk he saw that the proof the doctor held in his hand was headed in big letters, “The Vice-President’s Peril,” and that it was his own article. “This is a good thing you have done here, Sumner,” the doctor said. “We like stories of this sort, and I’m going to put you on the first page.” A few weeks earlier Dick would have stayed in the office till the paper went to press, for the sake of seeing his article in print, but being more experienced now, he wisely went home and to bed.