n a gesture of desperation.
"That's different," he cried. "I can't seem to make you see my point.
Why looka here, Mr. Surtaine. Who pays for the running of a newspaper?
The advertisers. Where do your profits come from? Advertising. There
never was a paper could last six months on circulation alone. It's the
ads. that keep every paper going. Well, then: how's a paper going to
live that turns against its own support? Tell me that. If you were
running a business, and a big buyer came in, would you roast him and
knock his methods, and criticize his family, and then expect to sell him
a bill of goods? Or would you take him out to the theater and feed him a
fat cigar, and treat him the best you know how? You might have your own
private opinion of him--"

"A newspaper doesn't deal in private opinions," put in Hal.

"Well, it can keep 'em private for its own good, can't it? How many
readers care whether E.M. Pierce's daughter ran over a woman or not?
What difference does it make to them? They'd be just as well satisfied
to read about the latest kick-up in Mexico, or the scandal at
Washington, or Mrs. Whoopdoodle's Newport dinner to the troupe of
educated fleas. But it makes a lot of difference to E.M. Pierce, and he
can make it a lot of difference to us. So long as he pays us good money,
he's got a right to expect us to look out for his interests."

"So have our readers who pay us good money, Mr. Shearson."

"What are their interests?" asked the advertising manager, staring.

"To get the news straight. You've given me your theory of journalism;
now let me give you mine. As I look at it, there's a contract of honor
between a newspaper and its subscribers. Tacitly the newspaper says to
the subscriber, 'For two cents a day, I agree to furnish you with the
news of your town, state, nation, and the outside world, selected to the
best of my ability, and presented without fear or favor.' On this basis,
if the newspaper fakes its news, if it distorts facts, or if it
suppresses them, it is playing false with its subscribers. It is sanding
its sugar, and selling shoddy for all-wool. Isn't that true?"

"Every newspaper does it," grumbled Shearson. "And the public knows it."

"Doubted. The public knows that newspapers make mistakes and do a lot of
exaggerating and sensationalizing. But you once get it into their heads
that a certain newspaper is concealing and suppressing news, and see how
long that paper will last. The circulation w