If he had a passion in his scientist's bosom, it was for exact and
unflinching veracity. Even to keep the _Post_ silent had been something
of a strain upon his instinct for truth, for a voice within him had
whispered that an honest journal _ought_ to have some opinion to express
on a matter so locally interesting as this. To publish this editorial
would strain the instinct to the breaking point and beyond. For it would
be equivalent to saying, whether anybody else but him knew it or not,
that he, the present editor of the _Post_ approved and endorsed West's
position, when the truth was that he did nothing of the sort.
At eight o'clock that night, he succeeded, after prolonged search of the
town on the part of the switchboard boy, in getting West to the
telephone.
"Mr. West," said Queed, "I am very sorry, but I don't see how I can
print your article."
"Oh, Lord!" came West's untroubled voice back over the wire. "And a
man's enemies shall be those of his own household. What's wrong with it,
Mr. Editor?"
Queed explained his reluctances. "If that is not satisfactory to you,"
he added, at the end, "as it hardly can be, I give you my resignation
now, and you yourself can take charge immediately.
Pages:
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386