"Yes. Banneker is pretty angry over it. You can't blame him. But that's no reason why we should alienate the city administration.... Then you think, Mr. Gordon, that we'll have to keep the story running?"

"I think, Mr. Greenough, that we'll have to give the news," answered the managing editor austerely. "Where is Banneker now?"

"With Judge Enderby, I believe. In case of an investigation he won't be much use to us until it's over."

"Can't be helped," returned Mr. Gordon serenely. "We'll stand by our man."

Banneker had gone to the old-fashioned offices of Enderby and Enderby, in a somewhat inimical frame of mind. Expectant of an invitation to aid the Law Enforcement Society in cleaning up a pest-hole of crime, he was half determined to have as little to do with it as possible. Overnight consideration had developed in him the theory that the function of a newspaper is informative, not reformative; that when a newspaper man has correctly adduced and frankly presented the facts, his social as well as his professional duty is done. Others might hew out the trail thus blazed; the reporter, bearing his searchlight, should pass on to other dark spots. All his theories evaporated as soon as he confronted Judge Enderby, forgotten in the interest inspired by the man.

A portrait painter once said of Willis Enderby that his face was that of a saint, illumined, not by inspiration, but by shrewdness. With his sensitiveness to beauty of whatever kind, Banneker felt the extraordinary quality of the face, beneath its grim outline, interpreting it from the still depth of the quiet eyes rather than from the stern mouth and rather tyrannous nose. He was prepared for an abrupt and cold manner, and was surprised when the lawyer rose to shake hands, giving him a greeting of courtly congratulation upon his courage and readiness. If the purpose of this was to get Banneker to expand, as he suspected, it failed. The visitor sensed the cold reserve behind the smile.

"Would you be good enough to run through this document?" requested the lawyer, motioning Banneker to a seat opposite himself, and handing him a brief synopsis of what the Law Enforcement Society hoped to prove regarding police laxity.

Exercising that double faculty of mind which later became a part of the Banneker legend in New York journalism, the reader, whilst absorbing the main and quite simple points of the report, recalled an instance in which an Atkinson and St. Philip ticket agent had been maneuvered into a posture facing a dazzling sunset, and had adjusted his vision to find it focused upon the barrel of a 45. Without suspecting the Judge of hold-up designs, he nevertheless developed a parallel. Leaving his chair he walked over and sat by the window. Halfway through the document, he quietly laid it aside and returned the lawyer's studious regard.

"Have you finished?" asked Judge Enderby.

"No."

"You do not find it interesting?"

"Less interesting than your idea in giving it to me."

"What do you conceive that to have been?"

By way of reply, Banneker cited the case of Tim Lake, the robbed agent.

"I think," he added with a half smile, "that you and I will do better in the open."

"I think so, too. Mr. Banneker, are you honest?"

"Where I came from, that would be regarded as a trouble-hunter's question."

"I ask you to regard it as important and take it without offense."

"I don't know about that," returned Banneker gravely. "We'll see.

Honest, you say. Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you begin by doubting the honesty of a stranger against whom you know nothing?"

"Legal habit, I dare say. Fortified, in this case, by your association with The Ledger."

"You haven't a high opinion of my paper?"

"The very highest, of its adroitness and expertness. It can make the better cause appear the worse with more skill than any other journal in America."

"I thought that was the specialty of lawyers."

Judge Enderby accepted the touch with a smile.

"A lawyer is an avowed special pleader. He represents one side. A newspaper is supposed to be without bias and to present the facts for the information of its one client, the public. You will readily appreciate the difference."

"I do. Then you don't consider The Ledger honest."

Judge Enderby's composed glance settled upon the morning's issue, spread upon his desk. "I have, I assume, the same opinion of The Ledger's honesty that you have."

"Do you mind explaining that to me quite simply, so that I shall be sure to understand it?" invited Banneker.

"You have read the article about your exploit?"

"Yes."

"Is that honest?"

"It is as accurate a job as I've ever known done."

"Granted. Is it honest?"

"I don't know," answered the other after a pause. "I intend to find out."

"You intend to find out why it is so reticent on every point that might impugn the police, I take it. I could tell you; but yours is the better way. You gave the same interview to your own paper that you gave to The Patriot, I assume. By the way, what a commentary on journalism that the most scurrilous sheet in New York should have given the fullest and frankest treatment to the subject; a paper written by the dregs of Park Row for the reading of race-track touts and ignorant servant girls!"

"Yes; I gave them the same interview. It may have been crowded out--"

"For lack of space," supplied Enderby in a tone which the other heartily disliked. "Mr. Banneker, I thought that this was to be in the open."

"I'm wrong," confessed the other. "I'll know by this evening why the police part was handled that way, and if it was policy--" He stopped, considering.

"Well?" prompted the other.

"I'll go through to the finish with your committee."

"You're as good as pledged," retorted the lawyer. "I shall expect to hear from you."

As soon as he could find Tommy Burt, Banneker put to him the direct question. "What is the matter with the story as I gave it to you?"

Burt assumed an air of touching innocence. "The story had to be handled with great care," he explained blandly.

"Come off, Tommy. Didn't you write the police part?"

Tommy Burl's eyes denoted the extreme of candor. "It was suggested to me that your views upon the police, while interesting and even important, might be misunderstood."

"Is _that_ so? And who made the suggestion?"

"An all-wise city desk."

"Thank you. Tommy."