Westlake's paper sold half a million."
"Is that legitimate also?" asked Anerley, thoughtfully.
"Why not?"
"Well, it looks a little like horse-stealing and lying."
"Well, _I_ think I should do a little horse-stealing and lying if I
could have a column to myself in a London daily. What do you say,
Scott?"
"Anything short of manslaughter."
"And I'm not sure that I'd trust you there."
"Well, I don't think I should be guilty of newspaper-man-slaughter.
That I regard as a distinct breach of professional etiquette. But if
any outsider comes between a highly charged correspondent and an
electric wire, he does it at his peril. My dear Anerley, I tell you
frankly that if you are going to handicap yourself with scruple you may
just as well be in Fleet Street as in the Soudan. Our life is
irregular. Our work has never been systematised. No doubt it will be
some day, but the time is not yet. Do what you can and how you can, and
be first on the wires; that's my advice to you; and also, that when next
you come upon a campaign you bring with you the best horse that money
can buy. Mortimer may beat me or I may beat Mortimer, but at least we
know that between us we have the fastest ponies in the country. We have
neglected no chance."
"I am not so certain of that," said Mortimer, slowly.
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