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CHAPTER I

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The Good Story

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Spike Holland scrawled the last word on the last sheet of his copy, slashed two horizontal lines to notify all concerned that it was the last page, and threw his pen at the window-frame. The nib struck home, and for a second the discoloured handle quivered.

"No unworthy hand shall inscribe baser literature with the instrument of my fancy," he said.

The only other reporter in the room looked up.

"What have you been writing up, Spike?"

"Yesterday's dog show," said Spike calmly. "I know nothing about dogs, except that one end barks and the other end wags, but Syme put me on to it. Said that a crime reporter ought to get acquainted with bloodhounds. That man is collaterally minded. Nothing ever appears to him as it is; he lives on suggestion. Take him hot news of a bank robbery and he'll jump at you for a story about what bank presidents eat for lunch."

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