AN ANXIOUS TIME

New Zealand Tablet, 18 January 1912, Page 5

AN ANXIOUS TIME

} It was a lazy, sultry/ sunny afternoon, one of the kind that tempts you to go far, far away into, the country, select a nice, quiet spot under some leafy tree by a babbling brook, lay yourself down on God’s green earth, and revel in the beauties of nature and of nature’s God. It-was a beautiful day for pleasure, but a terribly dull day for news, and what interest was the day to hold for us if it did not produce sufficient copy for the. Monday morning edition ? | . ' ; " We had been in the editorial rooms for the greater part of the morning, and : it was now nearly three o’clock, but as yet we were more than half a dozen columns shy and no newAin sight,' Ed. Bennett, the city editor, lounged back in his big swivel chair, calmly waiting for something ;to happen. The table before him, dignified by the title ‘ Editorial Desk,’ bore a litter of papers that had been accumulating for weeks.. Under the pile somewhere was a Bible, which, if I be permitted the term, was one of-Bennett’s hobbies. He read it with the interest that you and I bring to our novel, and quoted from it like a clergyman delivering a sermon.

.. The wall over his 'desk was bare, with the except tion of a placard that told you to ‘ Get Busy, and Keep It/ and a facsimile copy of Gray's ‘Elegy.’ Everything was characteristic of the editor himself. Educated at the University of Hard Knocks, he had worked on some small Western paper till his. style had attracted the attention of the editor of the San Francisco Call, who had sent for him and given him a job as . editorial writer. Subsequently he had acted as sporting' editor, dramatic critic, had done the courts, politics, and pretty nearly everything in the newspaper • game, till he was made city editor of the Courier. - “ -His age was very difficult to determine; some thought him rather young for his position, but when it came to a show-down many an older man wondered how one small head could carry all he knew.’ In stature he was rather slight; his physique told him to be a man who had seen, done, and suffered much. Many who saw him only in the office, and : had seen him there at all hours of the day and night, thought there \ was no other phase' to his life; but I happen to know that he has a wife, who is one of the finest little women that this earth is blessed with, and a little boy/ who wants to be either a priest or an editor when he is ‘ grow’d rip/ although he is not half old enough to realise the power wielded by the men in either of these vocations. ' -r - Evening was fast drawing on, yet no news or sign of news came in. Finally, along towards five "o’clock/ the cry for ‘ copy, copy,’ became so insistent that I called up police headquarters to find out if Watson had .discovered anything on the trunk mystery, to which he had been assigned. ; The story had been worked for; weeks without anything new developing; but Watson was an excellent-hand on just such cases, and we hadhoped* that he would ‘ disentangle the mystery and thus give us a coup, but I was told he had left, the police court, and;. they did not know where he had gone. ' While I was still talking there came a long-distance call from Pleasure Island to the. effect that a-launch

had capsized, and, the inmates, three in number, had been drowned.

‘Blamed glad-to hear it,’ said a little, bald-headed, wizened face copy reader ; ‘ a few more of that stamp, and we’ll be under way.’ .. : - „ _ ' C? ‘We might squeeze a good story but of that/ said Bennett.;,/.Say, Mac/ he continued, .‘pad that out for a couple of columns.’ ' - v : . . I had just begun to take down -the details of the unfortunate accident, when the “ telegraph . editor, a very r fine, though talkative, individual, came saunter- ' ing down the aisle, a big black cigar prbt Hiding from < between his lips. ; - - - .t ;/ Nice day, Ed/ he remarked pausing at Bennett’s' desk ; ‘ too bad we didn’t get that Flyer accident today instead of last Wednesday ; some of us could 'be down to the beach enjoying ourselves, instead of squatting here waiting for, things to happen.’ . , ,‘ It would make a cracking good story/ acknowledged' Bennett ; ‘we would be. able to feature it :in fine style, too. But/ he continued slowly, ‘ I would ; not want .to cover - that assignment to-day. Little Buddie and his mother have gone to a picnic, and they expect to take the Flyer home.’ He paused and looked at his watch. ‘ She’s . due here in twenty minutes now.’ _ .- ‘ I confess I do feel a bit nervous,’ he said, when the telegraph editor had passed 0n..“. If anything were . to happen to that kid or his mother I don’t’ know what I would do.’ 3 ' .. He brushed aside ■ the pile of i papers} and, picking up the Bible, opened it at random in an effort to divert his thoughts. It happened to be at the Book -of Job. For a moment he read quietly, then he - closed the book. ■ *• ' ' ( , ‘I have often thought,’ he remarked, what a wonderful will-power that Job had; losing his wealth, . children, and all that ; a ( man holds dear, then, in spite of all his sorrow, to use his head a little, and acknowledge . that since the Lord had given them all to him and had the first right on them, He could in all justice take them away whenever He saw fit. Now, that’s .-a hero for you; yet if you put him in a' novel to-day you could not find a publisher for it. Yet, for a. thinking man, what a hero he really was ,He paused long enough to. light a cigar. ■■■x ‘ Just take -that one expression of > his,’ he continued, tossing the match into the tray on his desk, I.‘-“ The Lord hath given, the Lord hath taken away”; those are his premises, then “Blessed, be the name of the Lord ; that’s his conclusion. Now, that’s what I call logic.’ / '.r,.,.,' I • • I knew that Bennett was in a mood for philosophising, so refrained from interrupting him,; for while in such a state his - every word was fit to go'between the covers of a book. For a while he smoked in : silence. The office was very quiet,-with the quiet’that precedes a storm. Suddenly the • desk ’phone rang; then another ; the telegraph instrument started its clatter. ' .That;-- meant business. Everybody was deadly silent, all energy was suspended for an instant. - The news- , paper ' man’s instinct told him that something was about to Happen. Ed. picked up his receiver and, cuddling it up close to his ear, leaned back in his chair in entire , satisfaction; Here was a story at last. • }.

His face as the facts: were . repeated to him was a study }in expression; It seemed to unfold with . the narrative he was receiving. .... ,} ~ .., }}.. : ‘Yes, yes/ he continued repeating, 3 stick to the details, will you How many lost? .My God, , man, that., is impossible. Say, hold the wire, will you •- : ‘Here, ;Duden/ he said, • turning from his . desk; ‘ Flyer smash-up at Cronwell. Get up - thereo/*~Take three of the boys with you. Hold, the telegraph line and the station ’phone. We are the first in on this.’ . ‘Hello!’ he called again, .turning' to the ’phone, 'hold ; the ’phone till a Mr. Duden 7 gets up there, then turn it over to him. He’ll pay the bill. Call me up if anything' further develops, will you?’ * Duden,’ called the editor to the gentleman of that name, who was bustling around, his hat in,one hand, a bunch of copy paper in the other, ‘look out for a little boy, six years old, light hair, blue eyes, wears a

blue sailor suit ; and his mother, a young woman, about five feet four, dark hair, brown eyes, wears a gold locket' with .the monogram E.. B.; and, for God’s sake, as soon-as you find them call me up.’ • ' I ’thought Ed - was going to break down then and there, but 1 with a strong effort he pulled himself together. X, ' ; Gradually :we got the story padded out for the first extra. Sheet . after sheet was O.K.’d by the editor. Everything was now- bedlam and excitement. Everybody was, on the run. The facts were few and uncertain, "yet we must get the extra out. No one had a thought for anything but the accident. Above the din and confusion could be heard the voice of the baldheaded, wizened-faced copy-reader, ‘ Copy, copy, he’ar, boy, copy.’ ' ■ Suddenly the managing editor burst from his sanctum, flourishing a bunch of proofs. •‘ Bennett,’ he cried, slapping them down on the desk before Ed, ‘how is- this? Can’t you make it an even thousand killed ? In less than a half-hour the yellows will be out in the street with a thousand killed, and here we have only a paltry couple of hundred.’ ‘ A thousand,’ repeated Bennett, whistling. ‘Why, man, you could not get that many into the train. Four carseighty in-a car —that would make 320, supposing all were killed. We have made it 500 for the extra. Don’t you think that quite enough?’ ■ - The managing editor O.K.’d the proofs. ‘All right, Bennett,’ he said; ‘you know best. I’ll leave this extra entirely to you.’ Ed picked up the proofs, and, scrawling out a big caption for the story, handed them to a dirty-looking urchin who stood waiting.

For a few minutes there was a lull. The work was well under way. For the first time since the story had come in we had an opportunity to collect our thoughts. I looked over at Bennett. There he sat,

his legs crossed, his dead cigar hanging listlessly from his. thin lips, waiting. I could not bear to see a man usually so full of life so spiritless. - , ; " ‘ Bennett/ I cried excitedly, catching him by the shoulder. ■ V ' i

He,turned around abstractedly, and as our eyes met he seemed to know what I was about to say to him. A flash of sympathy seemed to have been communicated through the look better- than it could have been by words. ■' ' * .. .

up there, and I would only make a scene. Besides, Duden will look after them till we get out the first extra. - , • ■■ ; '

u ‘ But, Ed/ I expostulated, ‘ how can you sit there? Don’t you realise. Go up to them; we will take care of this edition.’

‘ Steady, steady, old chap,’ he said. ‘I appreciate it, but just wait till we get this first extra out.’ He picked up the copy of the Bible, still open at the page at which he had turned it down. See that, Mac,’ he said, pointing to the passage we had been discussing. The Lord gave, and ’ —his voice faltered the Lord h-hath taken away. Ble ’ he paused again and turned the book down. ‘I can’t stand that now; I can’t think of it.’

‘Tinkle, tinkle,’ went the ’phone. ‘Duden? Did you find them?’ There was a long pause. I knew it meant more for Ed. than either of us could realise. Suddenly his face blanched. ‘Don’t tell me that!’ he exclaimed almost angrily. ‘ Look them over again, will you? They must be there. Let me know the worst.’

Gradually the more definite news trickled in over the wire. It was a horrible tale of slaughter. The passengers, mostly women and children, were returning from a. picnic. Many of them could not be identified. The two doctors from the nearest town were doing heroic

work, and attention was called to the devotion v of ■ Father Justin, who had .hastened from the Benediction, / service in his church to minister to the dying. Duden . . mentioned that he had seen him creep under, a car to r administer the last rites to several pinned there. Every new fact intensified the strain under which; Bennett, was. working; yet he and I ; alone - knew ■ of his misfortune.' v Finally, we heard the bark of ‘ Extra, extra,’ from the streets below. The extra was out at last. " ‘ , Gradually the firm look faded- from the little editor’s face. The strain . was relieving. He rose, dazed, and looking about him as one awakening from a ■" horrible dream. Now he was no longer the editor of the Courier , straining to get an extra out before any other papers got wind of the news. He was just a man, just Ed Bennett. ) He fumbled for an instant in his desk drawer, then brought out a small revolver. He examined the chambers carefully. They w„ere loaded. He looked at it almost appealingly, and then made.a gesture as though to put it in his back pocket, then stopped, as his eye caught sight of the Bible turned down at the passage he had been reading. He glared at it a moment savagely. I had never before seen that savage look in his K eye. A struggle seemed to be going on within him, the struggle between ‘ Blessed be the name of the Lord’ and ‘ Curse God and 1 die.’ For a moment he stood . , stock still. -I’ could almost imagine I could see his will swaying, so expressive was his countenance. Then, with a quick gesture, he put the small revolver on the Bible, and deposited both in the drawer, slamming it shut, as though to prevent him changing his resolution. He turned to me wearily, not seeming to care what I might think of his strange conduct. Well, Mac,’ he said, ‘I am going up there now; I guess you can get along without me.’ He passed wearily to the door followed by the inquiring glances of the reporters and copy readers.

He had scarcely reached the outer door when his desk ’phone rang vigorously. , I picked up the receiver. ‘ Hello,’, called a woman’s voice, that struck me as being entirely out of place in the tragedy and grime through which ,we had been passing for the last hour. - . \ ‘No,’ ’ltanswered * Mr. Bennett has just left the office. Who is this, please?’ I asked. v, ‘ His wife,’ came the answer. ■ _ . i.''-'- ‘His wife!’ I exclaimed. ‘Hold the wire a moment; I’ll get 1 him.’ .. ‘Ed, Ed,’ I called. He scarcely heeded me. ‘ Your wife wants you.’ Pie turned suddenly. :. - ‘ What’s-what’s that you say? My wife wants me! My wife, my Edna! She wants me?’ ■ His mind seemed to be wandering. The idea was too much for him. '. '• V Quick I said, catching .him by the arm, and making a gesture towards the ’phone. ‘ He walked slowly back into the room, and picked a up the receiver incredulously. .1 \ ; ‘ Hello !’ he called, as if afraid he might awaken himself from a dream and find only another disappointment staring him in the face. ‘ Edna, Edna, speak to me' again! Is this you ? And Buddie! Let me speak to him. The wreck, Edna, the wreck; were you not in it?’ ‘We were not, in it,’ she answered.' ‘I knew you /would, be worried, and have been trying to get you on the ’phone since I heard your extra on the streets; but your line was busy.’ , - ■*, ‘ Oh, Edna,’ he laughed almost hysterically. For a moment his language was incoherent. He spoke of a beat, the. yellow journals, laughing all the time. I thought he was about to break down, L f/i- ---■ ‘ The picnic?’ he inquired. ‘ Were you not at it?’

- r ‘We didn’t go,’ she answered. '‘ We overslept; and had only three-quarters of an hour to catch the train.; so it was a question of missing either Mass or the picnic, and we would not think of missing Mass, so we missed the picnic.’ s ’ ‘ ./ Thank God,’ he exclaimed,. then burst into hysterical laughter. -■ Buddie, Buddie, speak to daddy. I’m so glad, sonny, you missed the picnic.’ > : ‘ Say, Edna,’ he said, pulling himself together, ‘ we are going out to supper to-night, to celebrate, and to-morrow we are going to have a special Mass of thanksgiving.’ "