the city editor complained, his yellowed teeth digging into the pipe stem. “That’s why we have to use gimmicks to sell papers.” I cleared my throat and nodded in agreement, acting exactly like the cub reporter that I was. “Yes, sir,” I mumbled, because it seemed the proper thing to say. “Business closes down, Congress isn’t usually in session, the government officials take the weekend off, and worst of all—there are fewer people downtown to buy our papers.” “You’re right.” “On Sunday we can sell ’em ads and comics, but on Saturday afternoon it’s rough. And that’s goin’ to be your assignment. You’re goin’ to dig me up a story—every Saturday—for the afternoon edition. A story that no one else has—a story that’s big enough for front-page headlines. Understand?” “Yes, sir.” “Any questions?” “No, sir.” “Good. It’s two-thirty now. You’ve got till ten A.M. to bring in your first big story, kid. Go to it.” “Thank you, sir,”
