So the old gentleman could play that game, too!
“Well,” said Felix, “I _was_ going to ask you if—if you thought McPhairson Conglocketty Angus McClan got a square deal, but—”
The old gentleman shook his head, still smiling.
“I really don’t think it would be proper,” he said, “for me to discuss the internal affairs of the British Empire.”
“And Noah’s Ark,” said Felix. “If you could express an opinion—”
“It might be construed as a reflection upon the naval policy of the new administration.”
“And as to what became of little Charley Ross?”
“That,” said the old gentleman, “is something the national committee would prefer to remain, for the present, a secret.”
“Got anything?” the city editor asked, when Felix came up to his desk to report.
The city editor grunted, reached out for a typewritten sheet on the hook, and seemed to dismiss the matter from his mind.
Felix went back to his desk and sat there idly. He took out Rose-Ann’s little book from his pocket, and read in it. And then suddenly he put a sheet of paper in his machine and commenced to write.
Confound it, if what Rose-Ann said about the people of Chicago was so, they would enjoy the true story of that interview. It _was_ funny. Funny just because it was silly. But it was so preposterously the opposite of what he had been sent to find out—it seemed a deliberate mockery of the traditional and legitimate curiosity of the public. If he ventured to show it to the city editor, it would probably be his last assignment.
The city editor strolled to the water-tank, and back, wiping his lips. He saw Felix writing, came over, put a hand on his shoulder, and asked, “What are you writing?”
Well, he was lost. There was no backing out now. He handed over the first sheets.
“Thought you didn’t get anything,” the city editor remarked.
Felix wrote the last sentence, and surrendered the page.
“He said this?” asked the city editor, pausing for a moment. Felix nodded. “Just like the old bird, too,” the city editor muttered, and went on reading. He read to the end, and then read the first page again, and then smiled amiably. “And you didn’t know you had a story!” he said.
“Well,” said Felix, still incredulous. “I didn’t think—”
“You’re sure you’ve got it right?” the city editor asked, rubbing his chin.
