"Yes," said Bassett pensively, "most of us have to let the little darlings starve to death. I bet if we slipped into the next life with a murderer and a thief, St. Peter'd give 'em both a golden harp and ..." "Oh, cheer up," laughed Good, "let's not worry about preferred positions in the next edition. We've got plenty to do with this one." "Well, then," said the small man, "how about playing up this working girl stuff as a starter on the new idea? That ought to appeal to you." "I'm afraid you don't quite understand," explained Good patiently. "This isn't going to be an organ of the working classes." "That's all right, too, but in your talk out there to the boys you said you were going to print all the truth all the time. Well, this is true and people certainly ought to know about it. Those girls are getting a hell of a rotten deal. What about it?" Good was silent. "Frankly, I don't know," he murmured. "I know what you're thinking," said Bassett with a suggestion of a sneer. "We're carrying full pages for Corey's and the rest. But I thought you weren't going to take orders from the business office." "We're not," said Good. "But we have to take our orders from Miss Wynrod." "That's right," agreed Bassett. "I hadn't thought of that. Well, why don't you put it up to her?" "By Jove," cried Good, "I will! I'll do just that. You get your stuff together. I'll see her to-night and get her O.K.--if I can." "Here's a suggestion," said the managing editor; "it may help to get her interested. The girls are going to hold a meeting out on Dempsey Street. Why don't you take Miss Wynrod out there and let her see for herself? If she's any kind of a girl she'll hear some yarns that'll wilt her collar, I'll bet." Good was thoughtful. "That's not a bad idea. I'll see what I can do." He turned to go. Then he looked back from the doorway. "By the way, Bassett, I forgot to tell you--Miss Wynrod has a young brother. He's been a waster so far, but I think he's got some good stuff in him. Anyway, he's coming into the paper too. Of course he doesn't know anything about newspapers--he doesn't know anything about anything--but he can learn. I thought it would be best to start him in the business office. What do you think?" "That's the most important place to him," said Bassett sourly. "Keep him out of this end of it, for the love of Mike! Jenkins loves cubs; I don't." "I think you're right; anyway we'll start him with Jenkins. And I'll let you hear from me to-night in plenty of time about this story." "The bull-dog closes at eleven." "I'll let you know by ten."