al. That is where I expect to get my finishing experience. I've
had enough reporting. Now I'm after the special work; a little politics,
a little dramatic criticism; a touch of sports; perhaps some
book-reviewing and financial writing. And, of course, an apprenticeship
in the Washington office."

"Haven't you forgotten the London correspondence?"

Whether or not this was sardonic, Banneker did not trouble to determine.
"Too far away, and not time enough," he answered. "Later, perhaps, I can
try that."

"And while you are doing all these things who is to carry out the
editorial idea?"

"I am."

Marrineal stared. "Both? At the same time?"

"Yes."

"No living man could do it."

"I can do it. I've proved it to myself."

"How and where?"

"Since I last saw you. Now that I've got the hang of it, I can do an
editorial in the morning, another in the afternoon, a third in the
evening. Two and a half days a week will turn the trick. That leaves the
rest of the time for the other special jobs."

"You won't live out the six months."

"Insure my life if you like," laughed Banneker. "Work will never kill
me."

Marrineal, sitting with inscrutable face turned half away from his
visitor, was beginning, "If I meet you on the salary," when Banneker
broke in:

"Wait until you hear the rest. I'm asking that for six months only.
Thereafter I propose to drop the non-editorial work and with it the
salary."

"With what substitute?"

"A salary based upon one cent a week for every unit of circulation put
on from the time the editorials begin publication."

"It sounds innocent," remarked Marrineal. "It isn't as innocent as it
sounds," he added after a penciled reckoning on the back of an envelope.
"In case we increase fifty thousand, you will be drawing twenty-five
thousand a year."

"Well? Won't it be worth the money?"

"I suppose it would," admitted Marrineal dubiously. "Of course fifty
thousand in six months is an extreme assumption. Suppose the circulation
stands still?"

"Then I starve. It's a gamble. But it strikes me that I'm giving the
odds."

"Can you amuse yourself for an hour?" asked Marrineal abruptly.

"Why, yes," answered Banneker hesitantly. "Perhaps you'd turn me loose
in your library. I'd find something to put in the time on there."

"Not very much, I'm afraid," replied his host apologetically. "I'm of
the low-brow species in my reading tastes, or else rather severely
practical. You'll find some a