e of which
ever "landed." It was chiefly because of his industry and reliability,
rather than any fulfillment of the earlier promise of brilliant worth as
shown in the Sunday Sphere articles, that he got his first raise to
twenty dollars. It surprised rather than gratified him.

He went to Mr. Gordon about it. The managing editor was the kind of man
with whom it is easy to talk straight talk.

"What's the matter with me?" asked Banneker.

Mr. Gordon played a thoughtful tattoo upon his fleshy knuckles with the
letter-opener. "Nothing. Aren't you satisfied?"

"No. Are you?"

"You've had your raise, and fairly early. Unless you had been worth it,
you wouldn't have had it."

"Am I doing what you expected of me?"

"Not exactly. But you're developing into a sure, reliable reporter."

"A routine man," commented Banneker.

"After all, the routine man is the backbone of the office." Mr. Gordon
executed a fantasia on his thumb. "Would you care to try a desk job?" he
asked, peering at Banneker over his glasses.

"I'd rather run a trolley car. There's more life in it."

"Do you _see_ life, in your work, Mr. Banneker?"

"See it? I feel it. Sometimes I think it's going to flatten me out like
a steam-roller."

"Then why not write it?"

"It isn't news: not what I see."

"Perhaps not. Perhaps it's something else. But if it's there and we can
get a gleam of it into the paper, we'll crowd news out to make a place
for it. You haven't been reading The Ledger I'm afraid."

"Like a Bible."

"Not to good purpose, then. What do you think of Tommy Burt's stuff?"

"It's funny; some of it. But I couldn't do it to save my job."

"Nobody can do it but Burt, himself. Possibly you could learn something
from it, though."

"Burt doesn't like it, himself. He told me it was all formula; that you
could always get a laugh out of people about something they'd been
taught to consider funny, like a red nose or a smashed hat. He's got a
list of Sign Posts on the Road to Humor."

"The cynicism of twenty-eight," smiled the tolerant Mr. Gordon. "Don't
let yourself be inoculated."

"Mr. Gordon," said Banneker doggedly; "I'm not doing the kind of work I
expected to do here."

"You can hardly expect the star jobs until you've made yourself a star
man."

Banneker flushed. "I'm not complaining of the way I've been treated.
I've had a square enough deal. The trouble is with me. I want to know
whether I ought to stick or quit."

"If you