And goodness knows I had no desire to be an editor. I have
not now. I prefer to be a reporter and deal with the facts to being
an editor and lying about them. In the end the complaints died out.
I suppose I was given up as hopeless.
Perhaps there had crept into my reports too much of my fight with
the police. For by that time I had included them in "the opposition."
They had not been friendly from the first, and it was best so.
I had them all in front then, and an open enemy is better any day
than a false friend who may stab you in the back. In the quarter
of a century since, I have seldom been on any other terms with the
police. I mean with the heads of them. The rank and file, the man
with the nightstick as Roosevelt liked to call him, is all right,
if properly led. He has rarely been properly led. It may be that,
in that respect at least, my reports might have been tempered
somewhat to advantage. Though I don't know. I prefer, after all,
to have it out, all out. And it did come out, and my mind was
relieved; which was something.
[Illustration: "The General said never a word.
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