Page:Lynch Williams--The stolen story and other newspaper stories.djvu/296

 Then as Woods's cane thumped on out of the room, those who were waiting for assignments gathered in a group on tables and chairs, and the old reporters told stories of Woods's past greatness, which made the new reporters' eyes grow big, and instances of his absent-mindedness and drunken freaks, at which they all laughed together. … In a week or two it was, "Anything I can get. You know my abilities. I've hocked everything I own except the clothes I have on. Please give me just one chance. No, I don't care to borrow money, thank you. I can't say when I could ever pay you back."

This last was surprising, but you see he remembered that the old Billy Woods had had a great deal of self-respect. He was recalling all he could of the old Billy Woods.

"Well, Billy, still looking for that job?" said grinning young reporters, familiarly, as they passed by. A year or two ago they would have called him Mr. Woods, if they had presumed to address him at all, for the star reporter of The Day was a very exclusive young person.