“Night city editor,” said the boy; “step this way.” He led Dick through a long alley between two rows of desks to the front of the room, and pointed to a chair at the side of the editor’s desk. Dick sat down and felt reassured when he found that the night city editor was a very young man, not more than four or five years older than himself. “We had an accident in our place--in Russellville--to-night,” he said when the editor looked up; “Governor Wright was thrown out of his carriage and was very seriously hurt. His thigh was broken and they do not know yet how dangerous the injuries to his head may be.” “And your name is?”--the editor asked. “My name is Richard Sumner, sir,” Dick answered. “I am from The Russellville Record.” “Just tell me the circumstances, Mr. Sumner, as briefly as you can,” said the editor. Dick felt that he was blushing, for it was the first time he had ever been called Mr. Sumner. But he had the story well in mind, and told it as briefly and clearly as he could, with all the important points well brought out. Before the young editor had time to say anything, after Dick finished, an elderly gentleman, who had been sitting at a neighboring desk, apparently paying no attention to the talk, pushed back his chair and stood up and began to open a most formidable battery upon the young printer. He first wiped one pair of spectacles and put them on, then wiped another pair and put them on over the others. Through both pairs of glasses he looked searchingly into Dick’s face. But his own gray-whiskered face was such an embodiment of good-nature that Dick was not alarmed. “Young man,” said the older editor, his glass guns still aimed straight at Dick’s face, “can you write that story as well as you have just told it?” “I think so, sir,” Dick answered. “I wrote part of it while I was in the cars.” “Then give me what you have ready,” said the editor, “and sit right down at that desk and finish it. Give all the particulars fully; we have plenty of room for important news. But no slush, mind you; not a line. Have you taken this to any other paper?” “No, sir,” Dick replied. “But there is a telegraph office in Russellville?” “Yes, sir, there is,” Dick answered; “but it was closed at eight o’clock, before the accident happened.” “Then don’t go anywhere else,” said the editor. “Stay here with me till I can show you a proof, and I will pay you extra for it. Now fire away; you have an hour and twenty minutes to write. We go to press at 1.50.” Dick sat down at a desk with a handful of manilla paper before him, and spent a minute or two in thinking before he began to write. There he was with important news, and only two of the forty men paid any attention to him, or even looked at him. And he could not understand why they would take news from a stranger so willingly; he had expected to be questioned very closely, for how could they know that his news was true? But there was no time to waste, and he fell to work.