"We poor monied men," said Wayland, "seem to be altogether out of consideration."
"How so?" said Connors.
"Because in this day and generation," said Wayland, "thanks to Doane, the newspapers have killed our trade by exposing our tricks."
Connors looked on in grim satisfaction at the contest between money and printer's ink, and quietly said: "I am not so sure that newspapers are just what they should be."
"What's the complaint against us?" said Doane, in mock fear.
"There is as little honesty in journalism as there is in the world of finance," said Wayland.
"Nothing truer was ever said," chipped in Connors. "The ordinary newspaper of today but reflects the cowardice of wealth. There is little of the sincerity of conviction which prevailed in the days of Horace Greeley."
"They always cram Greeley down our throats," cried Doane.
"Well," said Connors, "wasn't he a pretty bold and fearless man?"
"I'll admit all that," retorted Doane, "but I never did worship at the shrine of any journalistic God."
"But," said Wayland, apparently realizing that the argument was growing somewhat intense, "we have wandered some distance from the original query."
"And that was?" said Connors.
"The real object of our presence here," interposed the editor. "Come, now, what brought you here, Connors?"
