y. "I know your writing, Mr. Shandor. I've been exposed to it for
years. You've never written an honest, true story in your life, but you
always want the truth to start with, don't you? I'm to give you the
truth, and let you do what you want with it, is that the idea? No dice,
Mr. Shandor. And you even have the gall to brag about it!"

Shandor flushed angrily. "You're not being fair. This story is going to
press straight and true, every word of it. This is one story that won't
be altered."

And then she was laughing, choking, holding her sides, as the tears
streamed down her cheeks. Shandor watched her, reddening, anger growing
up to choke him. "I'm not joking," he snapped. "I'm breaking with the
routine, do you understand? I'm through with the lies now, I'm writing
this one straight."

She wiped her eyes and looked at him, bitter lines under her smile. "You
couldn't do it," she said, still laughing. "You're a fool to think so.
You could write it, and you'd be out of a job so fast you wouldn't know
what hit you. But you'd never get it into print. And you know it. You'd
never even get the story to the inside offices."

Shandor stared at her. "That's what you think," he said slowly. "This
story will get to the press if it kills me."

The girl looked up at him, eyes wide, incredulous. "You _mean_ that,
don't you?"

"I never meant anything more in my life."

She looked at him, wonderingly, motioned him to the table, a faraway
look in her eyes. "Have some coffee," she said, and then turned to him,
her eyes wide with excitement. The sneer was gone from her face, the
coldness and hostility, and her eyes were pleading. "If there were some
way to do it, if you really meant what you said, if you'd really _do_
it--give people a true story--"

Shandor's voice was low. "I told you, I'm sick of this mill. There's
something wrong with this country, something wrong with the world.
There's a rottenness in it, and your father was fighting to cut out the
rottenness. This story is going to be straight, and it's going to be
printed if I get shot for treason. And it could split things wide open
at the seams."

She sat down at the table. Her lower lip trembled, and her voice was
tense with excitement. "Let's get out of here," she said. "Let's go
someplace where we can talk--"

* * * * *

They found a quiet place off the business section in Washington, one of
the newer places with the small closed b