The opposition reporters were fined or
suspended. Ensign and I were made much of in the office. I have
still the bulletin in which Mr. Shanks spoke of me as the man whose
work had done much to "make the _Tribune_ police reports the best
in the city." Sweet comfort for "the Dutchman"! My salary was raised,
but that was of less account. We had saved the day and the desk.
After that it was not all pulling up-stream in Mulberry Street.
Nothing in this world succeeds like success.
[Illustration: The Bulletin.]
Before that I had been once suspended myself for missing something
in this very case. I was not to blame, and therefore was angry and
refused to make explanations. That night, as I sat sulking in my
home in Brooklyn, a big warehouse fire broke out down town. From
our house on the hill I watched it grow beyond control, and knew
that the boys were hard put to it. It was late, and as I thought
of the hastening hours, the police reporter got the better of the
man, and I hurried down to take a hand. When I turned up in the
office after midnight to write the story, the night editor eyed me
curiously.
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