"A crowd of them in my room!" I repeated. "A crowd of whom, Mrs.
Fitch?"
"A crowd of reporters! They've been worrying my life out. They seemed
to think I had you hid somewhere. I hope you're not in trouble, Mr.
Lester?"
"Not the least in the world, my dear madam," I laughed, and I breathed
a long sigh of relief, for I had feared I know not what disaster.
"I'll soon finish with the reporters," and I went on up the stair.
Long before I reached my rooms, I heard the clatter of voices and
caught the odor of various qualities of tobacco. They were lolling
about over the furniture, telling stories, I suppose, and they greeted
me with a cheer when I entered. They were such jovial fellows that it
was quite impossible to feel angry with them--and besides, I knew that
they were gentlemen, that they labored early and late at meager
salaries, for the pure love of the work; that they were quick to scent
fraud or trickery or unworthiness, and inexorable in exposing them;
that they loved to do good anonymously, remaining utterly unknown save
to the appreciative few behind the scenes. So I returned their
greeting smilingly, and sat me down in a chair which one of them
obligingly vacated for me.
"Well?" I began, looking about at them.
"My dear Mr. Lester," said the one who had given me the chair, "permit
me to introduce myself as Rankin, of the _Planet_.
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