Part 73 (1/2)

For a.s.surance, Dr. Elliot was sent for and added his diagnosis. Ellis got authoritative interviews with both men, and the ”Clarion's” great, potential sensation was now fully ripe for print. Denton the reporter had done the previous work well. His ”story,” leaded out and with subheads, ran flush to two pages of the paper, and every paragraph of it struck fire. It would, as Ellis said, set off a ton of dynamite beneath sleepy Worthington. That night Veltman ”pulled” a proof, and Ellis stayed far into the morning, pasting up a dummy of the article for Hal's inspection and final judgment.

It was on Thursday that Norman Hale was taken to the hospital. Friday noon McGuire Ellis laid before his princ.i.p.al the carefully constructed dummy with the brief comment:

”There's the epidemic story.”

Hal accepted and read it in silence. Once or twice he made a note. When he had finished, he turned to find Ellis's gaze fixed upon him.

”We ought to run it Monday,” said Ellis. ”We can round it all up by then.”

Monday is the dead day of journalism, the day for which news articles which do not demand instant production are reserved, both to liven up a dull paper and because the sensation produced is greater. However, the sensation inevitable to the publis.h.i.+ng of this article, as Hal instantly realized, would be enormous on any day.

”It's big stuff,” said he, with a long breath.

Ellis nodded. ”Shall I release it for Monday?”

”N-n-no,” came the dubious reply.

”It's been held already for ten days.”

”Then what does it matter if we hold it a little longer?”

”Human lives, maybe. Isn't that matter enough?”

”That's only a guess. I've got to have time on this,” insisted Hal.

”It's the most vital question of policy that the paper has had to face.”

”Policy!” grunted Ellis savagely.

”Besides, I've given my word to the Chamber of Commerce Committee that we wouldn't publish any epidemic news without due warning to them.”

”Then it's to be killed?”

”'Wait for orders' proof,” said Hal stonily.

”I might have known,” sneered Ellis, with an infinite depth of scorn, and went to bear the bitter message to Wayne.

While the ”Clarion” policy trembled in the balance, Dr. Surtaine's Committee on Suppression was facing a new crisis brought about by the striking down of Norman Hale, of which they received early information.

Should he die, as was believed probable, the news, whether or not the full facts got into print, would surely become a focus for the propagation of alarmist rumors. In their distress, the patriots of commerce paid a hasty visit to their chief, craving counsel. Having foreseen the possibility of some such contingency, Dr. Surtaine was ready with a plan. The committee would enlarge itself, call a meeting of the representative men of the town, organize an Emergency Health Committee of One Hundred, and take the field against the onset of pernicious malaria. This show of fighting force would allay public alarm, a large fund would be raised, the newspapers would be kept in thorough subjection, and the disease could be wiped out without undue publicity or the imperiling of Old Home Week.

”What about the 'Clarion'?” inquired Hollenbeck, of the committee.

”They're still holding off.”

”Safe as your hat,” Dr. Surtaine a.s.sured the questioner with a smile.

”At the meeting you told us you couldn't answer for your son's paper,”

Stensland recalled.

”I can now,” said the confident quack. ”Just you leave it to me.”