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"It is not a fair story." "Every fact " "It is a most unfair story." "Do you know Sippiac, Mr. Gordon?" inquired Banneker equably. "I do not. Nor can I believe it possible that you could acquire the knowledge of it implied in your article, in a few hours." "I spent some time investigating conditions there before I came on the paper." Mr. Gordon was taken aback.
The elder nodded between two spirals of smoke which gave him the appearance of an important godling delivering oracles through incense. "That was a dam' bad story you wrote of the Sippiac killings." "I didn't write it." "Didn't uh? You were there." "My story went to the office cat." "What was the stuff they printed? Amalgamated Wire Association?" "No. Machine-made rewrite in the office."
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?
"There's one thing about it, though, that puzzles me. If he took old Vanney's tip to buy for a rise, why did he go after the Sippiac Mills with those savage editorials? They're mainly responsible for the legislative investigation that knocked eight points off of United Thread." "Probably to prove his editorial independence." "To whom? You?"
Greenough called up one hot morning and asked Banneker to make what speed he could to Sippiac, New Jersey. Rioting had broken out between mill-guards and the strikers of the International Cloth Company factories, with a number of resulting fatalities. It was a "big story."
Because the International Cloth Company is a powerful institution of the most reputable standing, with many lines of influence." "And that is enough to keep the newspapers from printing an article about conditions in Sippiac?" asked Banneker, deeply interested in this phase of the question. "Is that the fact?"
"The tenants didn't build them with lightless hallways, did they?" "They needn't live there if they don't like them. Have you spent all your time, for which I am paying, nosing about like a cheap magazine muckraker?" It was clear that Mr. Vanney was annoyed. "I've been trying to find out what is wrong with Sippiac. I thought you wanted facts." "Precisely. Facts. Not sentimental gushings."
"Then you can see, by the outbreak in Sippiac, to what disastrous results anarchism and fomented discontent lead." "Depends on the point of view. I believe that, after my visit to the mills for you, I told you that unless conditions were bettered you'd have another and worse strike. You've got it." "Fortunately it is under control. The trouble-makers and thugs have been taught a needed lesson."
"By the way, you seem to be well informed." "I've been in 'phone communication with Sippiac since the regrettable occurrence. It perhaps didn't occur to you to find out that the woman, who is now under arrest, bit the guard very severely." "Of course! Just like the rabbit bit the bulldog. You've got a lot of thugs and strong-arm men doing your dirty work, that ought to be in jail.
The surplus would go to the saloons." "Then why not wipe out the saloons?" "I am not the Common Council of Sippiac," returned Mr. Vanney dryly. "Aren't you?" retorted Banneker even more dryly. The other frowned. "What else?" "Well; the housing. You own a good many of the tenements, don't you?" "The company owns some." "They're filthy holes." "They are what the tenants make them."
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