his watch with a snap, remarked:

"Too late! Well, maybe he'll catch him for the second."

It is often the case that only part of a story gets in the first
edition of a paper. So many circumstances govern the getting of
news, and the sending of it into the office, that unless a story is
obtained, complete, early in the morning it is necessary to make
additions to it from edition to edition in the case of an afternoon
paper.

"Mack, maybe you'd better try to find Potter," went on Mr. Emberg
after a pause, turning to another reporter. "You know him. Tell him
we've got an interview with Sullivan, and ask him what the support
of Reilly means."

Mack, whose name in full was McConnigan, but who was never
designated as anything but "Mack," glanced at the proofs of Larry's
story.

"I guess I'll find him in Donnegan's place," he said, naming a
resort where men of wealth frequently gathered for lunch. "I'll try
there."

"Anywhere to find him," returned the city editor.

"Are you looking for Hamden Potter?" asked an old man, coming into
the city room at that juncture.

"That's what we are," said the city editor. "Why, do you know where
to find him, Mr. Hogan? Have you got a story for us to-day?"

Hogan was an old newspaper man, never showing any great talents, and
he had seen his best days. He was not to be relied on any more,
though he frequently took "tips" around to the different papers,
receiving for them, together with what money he could beg or borrow,
enough to live on.

"I've got a story, yes. I was down at the steamship dock of the Blue
Star line a while ago, and I see Mr. Potter's family come off a
vessel.

"Was he with them? Have you got the story?" demanded Mr. Emberg,
eagerly.

"I've got everything, I guess. I've got all but the main facts,
anyhow. I don't know whether Potter was with them or not. I didn't
think it was of any importance."

"Importance!" exclaimed the city editor. Then he bethought him of
Hogan's character, and knew it was useless to speak. "Everything but
the facts--the most important fact of all," Mr. Emberg murmured.

"Isn't that tip worth something?" demanded Hogan.

"Oh, I suppose so," and Mr. Emberg wrote out an order on the cashier
for two dollars. Poor Hogan shuffled from the room. He was but a
type of many who have outlived their usefulness.

"Jump down to the Blue Star dock, Mack," the city editor said, when
Hogan had gone. "Find out all you can about the Potters--where