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Tales of the City Room

ished the editor's last doubt. In his quick glance toward the boy he had failed to see the slight flush on Davidson's face, and now as he turned his attention to him he also missed the warning glance Chesterfield shot at his successful rival in the affections of Miss Neville.

"Go back to your post, James," said Kelly, blandly. "We 'll attend to your case later."

Chesterfield went with a heavy heart. He was not especially cheered by the sight of Kelly and the Sunday editor in close converse half an hour later. He was in reality far from their thoughts, but the boy, though he had surprised even himself by his diplomacy, felt they were sealing his doom with promptness and despatch. He would be "fired," he told himself, drearily, and his hard-working mother in the little Staten Island home would miss the six dollars which he loyally handed over to her every Saturday night.

His gloom was not dispelled by the appearance of Davidson, who swung out of the office door, whistling a popular street air.

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