He nodded and with eager, athletic strides started toward the
iron gates; but he did not reach the iron gates, for on the
instant trouble barred his way. Trouble came to him wearing
the blue cambric uniform of a nursing sister, with a red
cross on her arm, with a white collar turned down, white
cuffs turned back, and a tiny black velvet bonnet. A bow of
white lawn chucked her impudently under the chin. She had
hair like golden-rod and eyes as blue as flax, and a
complexion of such health and cleanliness and dewiness as
blooms only on trained nurses.

She was so lovely that Redding swung his hooded camera at her
as swiftly as a cowboy could have covered her with his gun.

Reporters become star reporters because they observe things
that other people miss and because they do not let it appear
that they have observed them. When the great man who is being
interviewed blurts out that which is indiscreet but most
important, the cub reporter says: "That's most interesting,
sir. I'll make a note of that." And so warns the great man
into silence. But the star reporter receives the indiscreet
utterance as though it bored him; and the great man does not
know he has blundered until he reads of it the next morning
under screaming headlines.

Other men, on being suddenly confronted by Sister Anne, which
was the official title of the nursing sister, would have
fallen backward, or swooned, or gazed at her with soulful,
worshipping eyes; or, were they that sort of beast, would
have ogled her with impertinent approval. Now Sam, because he