Just what happened?"
Mickey explained and produced the letter. Chaffner reached for it. Mickey
drew back.
"Why I wouldn't dare do just that," he said. "But I know that's what's in
it, because I heard what he said, and by it you could tell what she said.
I've told you every word, and you said the other day you knew; please tell
me if I should deliver this letter?"
"If you want to give me a special with the biggest scoop of ten years,"
said Chaffner, "and ruin Douglas Bruce and disgrace the Wintons, take it
right along."
"Aw gee!" wailed Mickey, growing ghastly. "Aw gee, Mr. Chaffner! Why you
_can't_ do that! Not to _them!_ Why they're the _nicest folks;_ and
'tain't two weeks ago I heard Miss Leslie say to Mr. Bruce right in our
office, 'losing money I could stand, disgrace would _kill_ me.' You can't
kill her, Mr. Chaffner! Why she's the nicest, and the prettiest----She
found me, and sent me to the boss, like I told you. Honest she did! Why
you can't! You just _can't!_ Why Mr. Chaffner, I can see by your nice eyes
you can't! Aw gee, come on now!"
Mickey's chin hooked over the editor's elbow, his small head was against
his arm, his eyes were dripping tears, but his voice controlled and steady
was entreating.
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