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Updated: June 25, 2025
He had even contrived to make it more horrid than it really was; for, as usual, he was badly informed, and he was naturally inclined to falsehood and invention, as by sending an ever thicker and more poisonous torrent from his sewer, he might, day by day, increase his paper's sales.
In this manner he accomplished what the profession call a "scoop" that is, he got a valuable item, and saw to it that no other paper got it. And so his paper the principal one in the town had it in glaring type on the editorial page in the morning, followed by a Vesuvian opinion of our wretch a column long, which wound up by adding a thousand dollars to our reward on the paper's account!
"The paper, James!" cried Uncle John, recalling the dying man to the present. "What became of it?" "Sir, I do not know you," answered James, suspiciously. "The paper's for Lawyer Watson. It's he alone shall have it." "Here I am, James," cried the lawyer, thrusting the others aside and advancing to the bed. "Give me the paper. Where is it? I am Lawyer Watson!"
But even more guarded than the location of the printing plant were the goings and comings of the paper's editor, Captain Victor DeKayville and his financial backer, Charles O'Brien. This brings me to two of the leading Nazi agents in the United States, one of whom originally started the newspaper.
For any sake stop press, cancel that leader, put back the tariff, votes for women, anything, only stop it.... What!... Edition off the machine!... Don't let a copy leave the office.... What!... First deliveries made!... Recall 'em, or the paper's ruined.
I've been working for this paper without a break, except when I had the grip, for four years, and now up comes this Maloney fellow, if you please, and tells me in so many words that the paper's got no use for me." "These are life's tragedies," sighed Smith. "What does he mean by it? That's what I want to know. And that's what these gentlemen want to know. See here " "I am addressing " said Smith.
"What paper's that?" "The prescription of the dope mixture you handed in to Burgess and Williams, the Brighton chemists, yesterday morning. They put their stamp on it and the date. I've just come back from a chat with them." The fat man watched the other as a rabbit watches a weasel. "Are you going to peach?" he said. "I'll tell you after the National," replied the other.
It was issued at threepence per copy, and an old memorandum of the printers now lying before me shows that in the paper's earlier years the average printings were 130,000 copies weekly a notable figure for that period, and one which was considerably exceeded when any really important event occurred.
The Mope heard you tell the girl in yer office that if anything happened to you she was ter wise up the district attorney that there was a paper in your safe at home fer him that was important. Now then, you beat it over ter that safe, an' open it up we'll give you a minute ter do it in." "The paper's not there, I tell you," said Stangeist once more.
Billy Windsor's hair had become more dishevelled than ever, and even Psmith had at moments lost a certain amount of his dignified calm. Sandwiched in between the painful case of Kid Brady and the matter of the tenements, which formed the star items of the paper's contents, was a mass of bright reading dealing with the events of the day.
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