the desk, the floor,
the wall and the street door. But Mr. Pollock paid no heed to
him. Then, finally, Dick began to write. As he wrote a grin
came to his face. That grin broadened as he wrote on. At last
he took the pages over to Mr. Pollock.

"I don't suppose that's what you want," he said, his face very
red, "but the main facts are all there."

Laying down his own pen Mr. Pollock read rapidly but thoughtfully.
The editor began to laugh again. Then he laid down the last
sheet.

"Prescott, that's well done. There's a good reporter lurking
somewhere inside of you."

Thrusting one hand down into a pocket Mr. Pollock brought out
a half-dollar, which he tendered to Dick.

"What am I to do with this?" asked the young sophomore.

"Anything you please," replied the editor. "The money's for you."

"For me?" gasped Dick.

"Yes, of course. Didn't you write this yarn for me? Of course
'The Blade' is only a country daily, and our space rates are not
high. But see here, Prescott, I'll pay you a dollar a column
for anything you write for us that possesses local interest enough
to warrant our printing it. Now, while going to the High School,
why can't you turn reporter in your spare time, and earn a little
pocket money?"

Again Dick gasped. He had never thought of himself as a budding
young journalist. Yet, as Mr. Pollock inquired, "Why not?" Why
not, indeed!

"Well, how do you think you'd like to work for us?" asked Mr.
Pollock, after a pause. "Of course you would not leave the High
School. You would not even neglect your studies in the least.
But a young man who knows almost everybody in Gridley, and who
goes about town as much as you do, ought to be able to pick up
quite a lot of newsy stuff."

"I wonder if I could make a reporter out of myself," Dick pondered.

"The way to answer that question is to try," replied Mr. Pollock.
"For myself, I think that, with some training, you'd make a good
reporter. By the way, Prescott, have you planned on what you
mean to be when you're through school?"

"Why, it isn't settled yet," Dick replied slowly. "Father and
mother hope to be able to send me further than the High School,
and so they've suggested that I wait until I'm fairly well through
before I decide on what I want to be. Then, if it's anything
that a college course would help me to, they'll try to provide
it."

"What would you like most of all in the world to be?" inquired
the editor of "The B