active service-第4部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！

　there　might　be　with　them　some　indifferent　westerner　who　was　obliged　to　resort　to　irregular　means　and　harangue　startled　shop…keepers　in　order　to　provide　himself　with　collars　of　a　strange　kind。　He　was　usually　very　quick　and　brave　of　eye　and　noted　for　his　inability　to　perceive　a　distinction　between　his　own　habit　and　the　habit　of　others；　his　western　character　preserving　itself　inviolate　amid　a　confusion　of　manners。

The　men；　coming　one　and　one；　or　two　and　two；　flung　badinage　to　all　corners　of　the　room。　Afterward；　as　they　wheeled　from　time　to　time　in　their　chairs；　they　bitterly　insulted　each　other　with　the　utmost　good…nature；　taking　unerring　aim　at　faults　and　riddling　personalities　with　the　quaint　and　cynical　humour　of　a　newspaper　office。　Throughout　this　banter；　it　was　strange　to　note　how　infrequently　the　men　smiled；　particularly　when　directly　engaged　in　an　encounter。

A　wide　door　opened　into　another　apartment　where　were　many　little　slanted　tables；　each　under　an　electric　globe　with　a　green　shade。　Here　a　curly…headed　scoundrel　with　a　corncob　pipe　was　hurling　paper　balls　the　size　of　apples　at　the　head　of　an　industrious　man　who；　under　these　difficulties；　was　trying　to　draw　a　picture　of　an　awful　wreck　with　ghastly…faced　sailors　frozen　in　the　rigging。　Near　this　pair　a　lady　was　challenging　a　German　artist　who　resembled　Napoleon　III。　with　having　been　publicly　drunk　at　a　music　hall　on　the　previous　night。　Next　to　the　great　gloomy　corridor　of　this　sixteenth　floor　was　a　little　office　presided　over　by　an　austere　boy；　and　here　waited　in　enforced　patience　a　little　dismal　band　of　people　who　wanted　to　see　the　Sunday　editor。

Baker　took　a　manuscript　and　after　glancing　about　the　room；　walked　over　to　a　man　at　another　desk；　Here　is　something　that。　I　think　might　do；〃　he　said。　The　man　at　the　desk　read　the　first　two　pages。　〃　But　where　is　the　photogragh　〃　〃　he　asked　then。　〃There　should　be　a　photograph　with　this　thing。〃

〃　Oh；　I　forgot；〃　said　Baker。　He　brought　from　his　desk　a　photograph　of　the　babe　that　had　been　born　lacking　arms　and　one　eye。　Baker's　superior　braced　a　knee　against　his　desk　and　settled　back　to　a　judicial　attitude。　He　took　the　photograph　and　looked　at　it　impassively。　〃　Yes；〃　he　said；　after　a　time；　〃　that's　a　pretty　good　thing。　You　better　show　that　to　Coleman　when　he　comes　in。〃

In　the　little　office　where　the　dismal　band　waited；　there　had　been　a　sharp　hopeful　stir　when　Rufus　Coleman；　the　Sunday　editor；　passed　rapidly　from　door　to　door　and　vanished　within　the　holy　precincts。　It　had　evidently　been　in　the　minds　of　some　to　accost　him　then；　but　his　eyes　did　not　turn　once　in　their　direction。　It　was　as　if　he　had　not　seen　them。　Many　experiences　had　taught　him　that　the　proper　manner　of　passing　through　this　office　was　at　a　blind　gallop。

The　dismal　band　turned　then　upon　the　austere　office　boy。　Some　demanded　with　terrible　dignity　that　he　should　take　in　their　cards　at　once。　Others　sought　to　ingratiate　themselves　by　smiles　of　tender　friendliness。　He　for　his　part　employed　what　we　would　have　called　his　knowledge　of　men　and　women　upon　the　group；　and　in　consequence　blundered　and　bungled　vividly；　freezing　with　a　glance　an　annoyed　and　importunate　Arctic　　explorer　who　was　come　to　talk　of　illustrations　for　an　article　that　had　been　lavishly　paid　for　in　advance。　The　hero　might　have　thought　he　was　again　in　the　northern　seas。　At　the　next　moment　the　boy　was　treating　almost　courteously　a　German　from　the　cast　side　who　wanted　the　Eclipse　to　print　a　grand　full　page　advertising　description　of　his　invention；　a　gun　which　was　supposed　to　have　a　range　of　forty　miles　and　to　be　able　to　penetrate　anything　with　equanimity　and　joy。　The　gun；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　had　once　been　induced　to　go　off　when　it　had　hurled　itself　passionately　upon　its　back；　incidentally　breaking　its　inventor's　leg。　The　projectile　had　wandered　some　four　hundred　yards　seaward；　where　it　dug　a　hole　in　the　water　which　was　really　a　menace　to　navigation。　Since　then　there　had　been　nothing　tangible　save　the　inventor；　in　splints　and　out　of　splints；　as　the　fortunes　of　science　decreed。　In　short；　this　office　boy　mixed　his　business　in　the　perfect　manner　of　an　underdone　lad　dealing　with　matters　too　large　for　him；　and　throughout　he　displayed　the　pride　and　assurance　of　a　god。

As　Coleman　crossed　the　large　office　his　face　still　wore　the　stern　expression　which　he　invariably　used　to　carry　him　unmolested　through　the　ranks　of　the　dismal　band。　As　he　was　removing　his　London　overcoat　he　addressed　the　imperturbable　back　of　one　of　his　staff；　who　had　a　desk　against　the　opposite　wall。　〃　Has　Hasskins　sent　in　that　drawing　of　the　mine　accident　yet？　〃　The　man　did　not　lift　his　head　from　his　work…；　but　he　answered　at　once：　〃　No；　not　yet。〃　Coleman　was　laying　his　hat　on　a　chair。　〃　Well；　why　hasn't　he　？　〃　he　demanded。　He　glanced　toward　the　door　of　the　room　in　which　the　curly…headed　scoundrel　with　the　corncob　pipe　was　still　hurling　paper　balls　at　the　man　who　was　trying　to　invent　the　postures　of　dead　mariners　frozen　in　the　rigging。　The　office　boy　came　timidly　from　his　post　and　informed　Coleman　of　the　waiting　people。　〃　All　right；〃　said　the　editor。　He　dropped　into　his　chair　and　began　to　finger　his　letters；　which　had　been　neatly　opened　and　placed　in　a　little　stack　by　a　boy。　Baker　came　in　with　the　photograph　of　the　miserable　babe。

It　was　publicly　believed　that　the　Sunday　staff　of　the　Eclipse　must　have　a　kind　of　aesthetic　delight　in　pictures　of　this　kind；　but　Coleman's　face　betrayed　no　emotion　as　he　looked　at　this　specimen。　He　lit　a　fresh　cigar；　tilted　his　chair　and　surveyed　it　with　a　cold　and　stony　stare。　〃　Yes；　that's　all　right；〃　he　said　slowly。　There　seemed　to　be　no　affectionate　relation　between　him　and　this　picture。　Evidently　he　was　weighing　its　value　as　a　morsel　to　be　flung　to　a　ravenous　public；　whose　wolf…like　appetite；　could　only　satisfy　itself　upon　mental　entrails；　abominations。　As　for　himself；　he　seemed　to　be　remote；　exterior。　It　was　a　matter　of　the　Eclipse　business。

Suddenly　Coleman　became　executive。　〃　Better　give　it　to　Schooner　and　tell　him　to　make　a　half…page…or；　no；　send　him　in　here　and　I'll　tell　him　my　idea。　How's　the　article？　Any　good？　Well；　give　it　to　Smith　to　rewrite。〃

An　artist　came　from　the　other　room　and　presented　for　inspection　his　drawing　of　the　seamen　dead　in　the　rigging　of　the　wreck；　a　company　of　grizzly　and　horrible　figures；　bony…fingered；　shrunken　and　with　awful　eyes。　〃　Hum；〃　said　Coleman；　after　a　prolonged　study；　〃　that's　all　right。　That's　good；　Jimmie。　But　you'd　better　work　'em　up　around　the　eyes　a　little　more。〃　The　office　boy　was　deploying　in　the　distance；　waiting　for　the　correct　moment　to　present　some　cards　and　names。

The　artist　was　cheerfully　taking　away　his　corpses　when　Coleman　hailed　him。　〃　Oh；　Jim；　let　me　see　that　thing　again；　will　you？　Now；　how　about　this　spar？　This　don't　look　right　to　me。〃

〃　It　looks　right　to　me；〃　replied　the　artist；　sulkily。

〃　But；　see。　It's　going　to　take　up　half　a　page。　Can't　you　change　it　somehow　〃

How　am　I　going　to　change　it？〃　said　the　other；　glowering　at　Coleman。　〃　That's　the　way　it　ought　to　be。　How　am　I　going　to　change　it？　That's　the　way　it　ought　to　be。〃

〃　No；　it　isn't　at　all；〃　said　Coleman。　〃You've　got　a　spar　sticking　out　of　the　main　body　of　the　drawing　in　a　way　that　will　spoil　the　look　of　the　whole　page。〃

The　artist　was　a　man　of　remarkable　popular　reputation　and　he　was　very　stubborn　and　conceited　of　it；　constantly　making　himself　unbearable　with　covert；　threats　that　if　he　was　not　delicately　placated　at　all　points；　he　would　freight　his　genius　over　to　the　office　of　the　great　opposition　journal。

〃　That's　the　way　it　ought　to　be；〃　he　repeated；　in　a　tone　at　once　sullen　and　superior。　〃The　spar　is　all　right。　I　can't　rig　spars　on　ships　just　to　suit　you。〃

〃　And　I　can't　give　up　the　whole　paper　to　your　accursed　spars；　either；〃　said　Coleman；　with　animation。　〃　Don't　you　see　you　use　about　a　third　of　a　page　with　this　spar　sticking　off　into　space？　Now；　you　were　always　so　clever；　Jimmie；　in　adapting　yourself　to　the　page。　Can't　you　shorten　it；　or　cut　it　off；　or　something？　Or；　break　it…that's　the　thing。　Make　it　a　broken　spar　dangling　down。　See？　〃

〃　Yes；　I　s'pose　I　could　do　that；〃　said　the　artist；　mollified　by　a　thought　of　the　ease　with　which　he　could　make　the　change；　and　mollified；　too；　by　the　brazen　tribute　to　a　part　of　his　cleverness。

〃　Well；　do　it；　then；〃　said　the　Sunday　editor；　turning　abruptly　away。　The　artist；　with　head　high；　walked　majestically　back　to　the　other　room。　Whereat　the　curly…headed　one　immediately　resumed　the　rain　of　paper　balls　upon　him。　The　office　boy　came　timidly　to　Coleman　and　suggested　the　presence　of　the　people　in　the　outer　office。　〃　Let　them　wait　until　I　read　my　mail；〃　said　Coleman。　He　shuffled　the　pack　of　letters　indifferently　through　his　hands。　Suddenly　he　came　upon　a　little　grey　envelope。　He　opened　it　at　once　and　scanned　its　contents　with　the　speed　of　his　craft。　Afterward　he　laid　it　down　before　him　on　the　desk　and　surveyed　it　with　a　cool　and　musing　smile。　〃So？〃　he　remarked。　〃　That's　the　case；　is　it？〃

He　presently　swung　around　in　his　chair；　and　for　a　time　held　the　entire　attention　of　the　men　at　the　various　desks。　He　outlined　to　them　again　their　various　parts　in　the　composition　of　the　next　great　Sunday　edition。　In　a　few　brisk　sentences　he　set　a