"That's not a name," said the editor-in-chief, "but since you will
not be required to sign what you write it is of no consequence."

The boy-faced reporter speedily made himself many friends, for he
was serviceable and gifted with a good humour that enchanted the
most severe-tempered and disarmed the most zealous of his companions.
At the Bar cafe, where the reporters assembled before going to any
of the courts, or to the Prefecture, in search of their news of
crime, he began to win a reputation as an unraveller of intricate
and obscure affairs which found its way to the office of the Chief
of the Surete. When a case was worth the trouble and Rouletabille
--he had already been given his nickname--had been started on the
scent by his editor-in-chief, he often got the better of the most
famous detective.

It was at the Bar cafe that I became intimately acquainted with him.
Criminal lawyers and journalists are not enemies, the former need
advertisement, the latter information. We chatted together, and I
soon warmed towards him. His intelligence was so keen, and so
original!--and he had a quality of thought such as I have never
found in any other person.

Some time after this I was put in charge of the law news of the "Cri
du Boulevard." My entry into journalism could not but strengthen
the ties which united me to Rouletabille. After a while, my new
friend being allowed to carry out an idea of a judicial
correspondence column, which he was allowed to sign "Business," in
the "Epoque," I was often able to furnish him with the legal
information of which he stood in need.