Jasper County Democrat, Volume 22, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 May 1919 — A Little Help [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Little Help

By RAT BAKER

(Cepyright, ISIS, Sy th* MeClure X«WSpar If Walter Burrow# had been three minutes soccer be would have caught the relief train. If Lucile McCarthy bad been three minutes later she would have missed it 11 it was, ths Tribune had the start of the Star. A six-cylinder, highgeared automobile overcame the handicap, however, and Lucile stepped off the train on one side of the piled-up coaches at the same time that Walter jumped ffom the tonneau of the car on the other. Theo began the race to clean up on the details and get them Into the respective newspaper offices, which were fifteen miles from ths scene of the wreck. If Lucile McCarthy had known that Walter Burrows was her rival in this skirmish for facts she would have worked more feverishly tharf she did. If be bad known that he had to compete with a woman —and this partlc-. ular woman above all others—he would have smiled grimly and put in a few extra licks. For these two reporters, although they were on rival afternoon papers, were erstwhile sweethearts. It was through him that she obtained her place on the Tribune, simply because she said she wouldn’t have a man who could do something she couldn’t do, and because she thought the work would appeal to her, which It did. Then came an argument one afternoon. It started with a discussion of social and economic problems of the world In general. Reporters, in their hours of relaxation, will discuss and argue about anything, from the price of King George’s imperial bedroom

slippers to the number of calories in the dally meals of the mayor of Hoboken. ✓ This particular discussion dwindled to an out-and-out argument which generated some heat, about whether women were as resourceful as men, and if not why not, and if so why so. Tbs last straw was Walter’s assertion that women are dependable on men in emergencies, whereupon Lucile told him that she would prove that she in particular was not dependent on any man and never would be. “Men overestimate their importance,” she declaimed. “They are not in the least essential to a woman’s success or happiness. You’re one of those narrow-minded beings that think a woman can’t do anything for herself. You disgust me, that’s what you do. I wouldn’t have such a man hanging around the house. Kindly forget my telephone number.” The reporters at the wreck were so busy asking questions of trainmen and doctors and scribbling notes that neither noticed the other. It was not until they got ready to leave that they became aware of each other’s presence, and then It was only through a mishap. ‘Til get the story in for the second edition and scoop the Tribune,” said Walter as he scribbled one last unreadable note on some folded copy paper and thrust it into a pocket.

At the same time the whistle of the relief train sounded and Lucile knew she must get aboard or be left. She was not far from the train, but in order to get to it she had to scramble over some wreckage. In so doing she slipped and fell to the ground, a sharp pain darting through her foot Involuntarily she uttered a slight cry, and it was heard bjr Walter, who was standing a short distance away, looking around in vain for the automobile that had brought him to the scene of the wreck. He hurried to her and found her huddled on the ground. When he saw who it was that had suffered the accident he hesitated a few brief seconds, then picked her up in his arms. She was small and he was big, iso it wasn’t much of a task to move ber off to One side of the bustle and confusion attendant on clearing away the wreckage. "Where’s that confounded car?” he said aloud in vexation. "I thought it was pver by that fence when I got

out of it. I wonder if the driver di flft think ! was going back?" His voice made her curious to know tn whose arms she was resting. Hitherto the pain abe was suffering ba made her indifferent as to his Mentity. Bo she lifted two very brows eyes and they met two gray blue ones, and then bar mouth straightened out and she commanded: -Put me down ft of r* He grinned and complied. She took a few steps, limping pronouncedly -How dare you pick me up in your armor she demanded. “1 don’t need you." He looked out on the road, but there was not an automobile In sight It was yet too early for the general public to hoar the news and begin flocking to the scene. When he looked back at the girl she was huddled on the ground again. “Tro lost out," shs almost sobbed. -The train has gone. I was going to take It back to the next station and file my story at the telegraph office.” He looked sympathetic. “If you will allow me to suggest an ♦des." he remarked, “perhaps I can help both you and myself. Tm not doing this in a personal way, you understand. but simply professionally. I would give any reporter a little help tn like circumstances. bo It man or woman.” She answered him almost jabbing pins Into her back hair. “Go on with your idea. I’ve got to get my story to the Tribune or loss my job.” "Well," he went on, “my chauffeur has gone and left mo; but I just noticed a handcar standing some distance up the track on the other side of the wreck and we can ride on that to Bushvtlle, which is only a mile around that bend. Wo can file our stories there." Without waiting for her consent ho picked her up again and succeeded in getting to the handcar, on which bo placed her. Selling the handles, be soon had the vehicle moving down the track. -Hey, bring that back, your called a section hand, but Walter couldn't or wouldn’t hear. She sat at one end of the handcar and looked away from him. The pain had left her foot, but there was another kind of pain that she couldn’t dispel. Ho worked the pump so fast that perspiration streamed from his brow, although the weather was only the mild kind that is enjoyed early In the fall. Before long the Bushvtlle station loomed Into sight. He stopped near It and removed the handcar from the rails, after which he carried Lucile Into the station and placed her on a bench. It was one of those structures about the size of a box car, with a waiting room and a combined ticket and telegraph office. "How about sending some press stuff?” Walter inquired of the hatchetfaced man behind the counter. The man was too busy reading a magazine to look up. "No operator," he condescended to grunt. “That settles It," said Lucile in tones that bordered on anguish. “We’ve both lost out." Walter had some further conversation with the man at the ticket window, after which he went over to Lucile and said:

“Can you dictate your story to the wire. You won’t have time to write It.” She laughed, almost hysterically. “Sure I can dictate to the wire, but what good will that dot We RaVe tS have an operator first.” There was something of triumph la his eyes. "We have,” he declared. *Tm the operator. Didn’t you ever know that I graduated from £ telegraph office to a newspaper r* She looked up quickly, with mingled surprise and admiration showing in her face, but quickly she sought to hide It. Turning from him she looked out the window. A farmer boy was having difficulty with a calf that betrayed a pronounced prejudice for some grass that stuck up In the middle of the main track., "Oh, I can’t do It,” she said. "You’ve earned the right to send your story, and yours alone. I couldn’t let you send mine too. I'm sick of the game, and Tm going to watch that boy get that calf off the track while you rattle the key and I lose my job. I don’t want the job any more, anyhow. It’s more Important that you keep yours, and maybe this scoop will bring you a raise. You see. I’ve decided to let your pay envelop provide for us both —if you’re still of that mind.”

She Uttered a Slight Cry.