which is so often much more significant than the published version;
haply to win or lose a few swiftly earned dollars at pass-three hearts.
It is the unofficial press club of Newspaper Row.

Said McHale of The Sphere, who, having been stuck with the queen of
spades--that most unlucky thirteener--twice in succession, was retiring
on his losses, to Mallory of The Ledger who had just come in:

"I hear you've got a sucking genius at your shop."

"If you mean Banneker, he's weaned," replied the assistant city editor
of The Ledger. "He goes on space next week."

"Does he, though! Quick work, eh?"

"A record for the office. He's been on the staff less than a year."

"Is he really such a wonder?" asked Glidden of The Monitor.

Three or four Ledger men answered at once, citing various stories which
had stirred the interest of Park Row.

"Oh, you Ledger fellows are always giving the college yell for each
other," said McHale, impatiently voicing the local jealousy of The
Ledger's recognized _esprit de corps_. "I've seen bigger rockets than
him come down in the ash-heap."

"He won't," prophesied Tommy Burt, The Ledger's humorous specialist.
"He'll go up and stay up. High! He's got the stuff."