ted in the prospects of the Transcontinental and what you
expect to make it next year. What I want is to be paid for what I do.
And I tell you, right now, the Christmas Transcontinental don't go to
press till I have the money in my hand. Good day. When you get the
money, come and see me."

The door jerked open, and the man flung past Martin, with an angry
countenance and went down the corridor, muttering curses and clenching
his fists. Martin decided not to enter immediately, and lingered in the
hallways for a quarter of an hour. Then he shoved the door open and
walked in. It was a new experience, the first time he had been inside an
editorial office. Cards evidently were not necessary in that office, for
the boy carried word to an inner room that there was a man who wanted to
see Mr. Ford. Returning, the boy beckoned him from halfway across the
room and led him to the private office, the editorial sanctum. Martin's
first impression was of the disorder and cluttered confusion of the room.
Next he noticed a bewhiskered, youthful-looking man, sitting at a roll-
top desk, who regarded him curiously. Martin marvelled at the calm
repose of his face. It was evident that the squabble with the printer
had not affected his equanimity.

"I--I am Martin Eden," Martin began the conversation. ("And I want my
five dollars," was what he would have liked to say.)

But this was his first editor, and under the circumstances he did not
desire to scare him too abruptly. To his surprise, Mr. Ford leaped into
the air with a "You don't say so!" and the next moment, with both hands,
was shaking Martin's hand effusively.

"Can't say how glad I am to see you, Mr. Eden. Often wondered what you
were like."

Here he held Martin off at arm's length and ran his beaming eyes over
Martin's second-best suit, which was also his worst suit, and which was
ragged and past repair, though the trousers showed the careful crease he
had put in with Maria's flat-irons.

"I confess, though, I conceived you to be a much older man than you are.
Your story, you know, showed such breadth, and vigor, such maturity and
depth of thought. A masterpiece, that story--I knew it when I had read
the first half-dozen lines. Let me tell you how I first read it. But
no; first let me introduce you to the staff."

Still talking, Mr. Ford led him into the general office, where he
introduced him to the associate editor, Mr. White, a slender, frail
little man