Of course, this sickening brother and sister business wouldn't touch the
main fact of the story, but it knocked the "love motive" and the "heart
interest" higher than a kite, utterly ruining some of his prettiest bits
of writing, besides letting him in for a call-down from Naylor. Still,
the old man couldn't be very hard on him--he'd understand that some
trifling little inaccuracies were bound to creep into a great big story
like this, dug out and worked up by one man.
At this more cheerful conclusion, a newsboy, crying his bundle of still
damp papers, came along, and Simpkins hailed him eagerly. Standing under
a lamp on the corner, skipping from front page to back, then from head
to head inside, with an eye skilled to catch at a glance the stories
which a loathed contemporary had that the _Banner_ had missed, he
ran through the bunch. The _Sun_--not a line about Athelstone in
it. Bully! The _American_--he was a little afraid of the _American_.
Safe again. The _World_--Sam Blythe's humorous descriptive story of the
convention led. He stopped to pity Sam and the New York papers, as he
thought of the Boston newsboys, crying his magnificent beat, till all
Washington Street rang with the glory of it. And he could see the
fellows in Mrs. Atkinson's, letting their coffee grow cold as they
devoured the _Banner_, stopping only here and there to call across
to each other: "Good work, Simp.