painful apprenticeship of death-notices in which is neither profitable
space nor hopeful opportunity, "for a few days, will do it."

"Or the job of asking an indignant millionaire papa why his pet daughter
ran away with the second footman and where."

"Or interviewing old frozen-faced Willis Enderby on his political
intentions, honorable or dishonorable."

"If I know Banneker," said Mallory, "he's game. He'll take what's handed
him and put it over."

"Once, maybe," contributed Tommy Burt. "Twice, perhaps. But I wouldn't
want to crowd too much on him."

"Greenough won't. He's wise in the ways of marvelous and unlicked cubs,"
said Decker.

"Why? What do you think Banneker would do?" asked Mallory curiously,
addressing Burt.

"If he got an assignment too rich for his stomach? Well, speaking
unofficially and without special knowledge, I'd guess that he'd handle
it to a finish, and then take his very smart and up-to-date hat and
perform a polite adieu to Mr. Greenough and all the works of The Ledger
city room."

A thin, gray, somnolent elder at the end of the table, whose nobly cut
face was seared with lines of physical pain endured and outlived,
withdrew a very small pipe from his mouth and grunted.