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"Having to work for Marrineal and further his plans, after knowing him as I know him now that's a refined species of retribution, Pop." "I know; I know. You've got to stick and wait your chance, and hold your following until you can get your own newspaper. Then," said Russell Edmonds with the glory of an inspired vision shining in his weary eyes, "you can tell 'em all to go to hell.
And if there's got to be news there have got to be men willing to do hard, unpleasant work, to get it," argued Mallory. "Hard? All right," retorted Edmonds. "Unpleasant? Who cares! I'm talking about the dirty work. Wait a minute, Mallory. Didn't you ever have an assignment that was an outrage on some decent man's privacy? Or, maybe woman's?
I want you to do the same sort of thing that you've been doing for The Courier; a job of handling the big, general stories. You'll be responsible to me alone. The salary will be a third higher than you are now getting. Think it over." "I've thought. I'm bought," said Russell Edmonds. He resumed his pipe. "And you, Mr. Banneker?" "I'm not a Socialist, in the party sense.
Banneker's chief interest, next to his ever-thrilling delight in seeing her, was in the part played by Willis Enderby. "What is he doing in that galley?" he wondered. To her explanation he shook his head. Something more than that, he was sure. Asking Io's permission he sent for Russell Edmonds. "Isn't this a new role for Enderby?" he asked. "Not at all. He's been doing this sort of thing always.
Edmonds laughed. "You don't have to bribe your own heeler. The Ledger believes in Vanney's kind of anarchism, as in a religion." "Could he have bought off The Courier?" "Nothing as raw as that. But it's quite possible that if the Sippiac Mills had been a heavy advertiser, the paper wouldn't have sent me to the riots. Some one more sympathetic, maybe." "Didn't they kick on your story?" "Who?
I had feared that my attainments would be inferior to those of the youngest of the pupils, and I was equally pleased and surprised when Miss Edmonds, after a long and careful examination in regard to my acquirements, placed me in one of the higher classes. There was to me an irresistible attraction in the countenance and manner of my teacher; and, from the first moment I saw her I loved her.
Some were Maryland secessionists, like James Williamson, who, after the war, wrote an authoritative and well-documented history of the organization, Mosby's Rangers. Some were boys like John Edmonds and John Munson, who had come of something approaching military age since the outbreak of the war. Some were men who had wangled transfers from other Confederate units.
The Westerner glanced avidly about him, noting here a spoken name familiar in print, there a face recognized from far-spread photographic reproduction. "Some different from Ban's shack on the desert," he muttered. "Hello! Mr. Edmonds, who's the splendid-looking woman in brown with the yellow orchids, over there in the seat back of the palms?" Edmonds leaned forward to look.
He found her in appearance very angry, not with him, but with Edmonds, from whom she had received no advices. "I don't know what they are doing with him," said her Majesty, "I hear from others that they are ringing the church bells wherever he goes, and that they have carried him through a great many more places than was necessary.
Edmonds began quietly, listening to his voice roll smoothly from the speakers, giving the long history of Earth and her rise to a position as the richest and most respected of planets. He retold the story of how she had been the first to discover the interstellar drive, and how it had inevitably spread.
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