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CHAPTER V
A Chance

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The next morning the girls arose early and prepared their own breakfast in the little kitchenette. It was much more cozy and homey, being able to prepare their own meals here in their rooms instead of always having to eat in restaurants. Also it was more economical. That was something that Lois and Beverly had to take into consideration. They could not spend money as lavishly as Lenora, at least not yet. They still had their fortune to make.

After breakfast Lois set up her sketching board in one corner of the living room, by the window, and proceeded to lay out her paraphernalia. She was in a working mood this morning and she was going to make the most of it. Lenora was going shopping and Beverly was going searching for a job, she would have the apartment to herself.

Lenora and Beverly descended to the street together, but there their paths divided. Lenora had a vague idea of where she wanted to go and she resolutely set out to make a day of her shopping tour.

Beverly walked briskly toward the Tribune office. In the gray light of day Broadway lost much of its glamour and excitement. It became a busy thoroughfare, heavy with traffic, but none the less interesting. The air was cool, with heavy suggestion of autumn, and Beverly quickened her steps. On a morning like this she felt like walking far, it stirred her ideas and aroused optimism.

Yesterday afternoon when she had gone back to the apartment she had been terribly disappointed and dejected. All the world seemed turned against her, but here she was, this morning, humming a tune as she stepped along. Funny thing, human nature. It took so little to make the world as dark as night, and equally as little to send spirits soaring.

She paused outside the Tribune building and looked up at the stone front. Would she be successful this time? If Charlie Blaine were still a reporter for the paper, she felt sure he would lend her his assistance to get a place on the staff. Taking a deep breath she walked toward the doors.

A man descended from a limousine and brushed swiftly passed her. She entered the office just behind him. At a desk sat an office boy, deeply interested in a wild west magazine. She sighed dejectedly. Another office boy! That meant she would get no farther than this outer office. The man ahead of her approached the desk and demanded in strident, angry tones to see the Editor. The boy took in the man and Beverly in the same glance. Evidently he thought they were together.

“The Editor?” he asked uncertainly. “Yes, Mr. Richmond. This way, sir.”

He held open the door for the man and Beverly. Beverly wisely said nothing. She knew the boy might discover his mistake at any minute, but until he did she might be able to obtain an interview with the Editor, or whoever it was did the hiring of new reporters.

The boy ushered them into a busy, paper littered room. Desks were jumbled together, each with its occupant laboring over a typewriter, some with pencils shoved behind an ear, others chewing vigorously on gum. The majority of the workers, reporters presumably, were men, but there were also three girls. In the center of the room was a desk, larger than the rest, and in even more of a jumble of papers. The man behind sat hunched over the work before him, a green eyeshade pulled low on his forehead, two telephones at his elbow, pencil in hand.

The man who had entered ahead of Beverly strode forward and banged a heavy fist on the Editor’s desk, his voice shaking with anger. He was upset over something that had been printed in the morning paper, that much Beverly gathered from his shouted words, but she paid little attention to what he said. She was too interested in looking about her. Oh, to work in a place like this!

Two men came up and very thoughtfully, if not gently, assisted the raving visitor to the door. The office boy had long since disappeared. Beverly approached the Editor’s desk with a little hesitation. A smile played about her lips and her eyes danced mischievously. She hoped he didn’t have her put out before he recognized her.

“Good morning,” she began brightly.

“Huh,” the man replied, without glancing up. “Whata you want?”

“I want a job,” Beverly answered with dignity. “As reporter.”

“Any experience?”

That everlasting question! No doubt the result would be the same as always.

“No,” she said quietly.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling forward a telephone and barking into it.

Beverly stood quietly by until he had finished transmitting his message to the person at the other end.

“I said there is nothing for you,” he reminded her, turning back to his papers.

“But I’m a very bright girl,” she said smilingly.

Then he looked up at her for the first time. For a moment his face was scowling, then recognition slowly dawned in his eyes and he grinned in surprise. He jumped to his feet and shook hands enthusiastically.

“Beverly Gray! What are you doing in New York? All finished college?”

“Yes, and I want a job,” she said, coming directly to the point.

Charlie Blaine leaned back in his chair and surveyed her thoughtfully. He was just the same as Beverly had known him when he was a reporter, grave and gay by turn. But now there was more responsibility on his shoulders.

“You want a job as reporter,” he murmured.

“Yes, on the Tribune.”

“It’s hard work,” he said slowly. “There are hundreds of aspiring youngsters who want to be reporters. Some of them think it will lead to a career as a famous writer.” He shook his head doubtfully. “I’d advise you to go back to your home town wherever it is.”

Beverly shook her head determinedly. “I intend to stay here,” she said calmly. “If there is no place for me on the Tribune perhaps I can get a job on another paper.”

“All right, all right,” Charlie Blaine soothed. “I was just giving you some good advice. It isn’t my fault if you won’t take it.”

“Then you will give me a job?” she asked eagerly.

“I’d like to, you know that. But——Anyway I’ll take you in to see the boss. He hires everybody and we’ll see what he says.”

The owner of the Tribune was a kindly, dignified old gentleman who stood solidly behind the conservative policies of his paper. He was gentle but firm with Beverly. Charlie Blaine recommended her highly for a place but, as he had said, no additional men or women were wanted now. Their staff was complete. However Charlie Blaine gave her an encouraging whisper before she left the office.

“I’ve an idea there’ll be a place vacant in two or three weeks,” he said. “Give me your address and I’ll let you know. Stop in and see me sometimes, too.”

When she left the Tribune office her earlier carefree attitude was somewhat dampened. The best she had was the doubtful promise of a position in two or three weeks—maybe longer. She had exactly twenty dollars in her pocketbook. How long would that last? Not long, she assured herself, what with her portion of room rent to pay, meals to buy, and some amusements. But even so she was fortunate. A lot of people these days didn’t have that much.

She stood on the corner of 42nd Street and Broadway and watched the crowd of people shifting back and forth during the lunch hour while she thought of a course to pursue. She had been to newspaper offices—all of them she could think of. What was there to do? Should she definitely give up this making-good-on-her-own business and go back home? Positively not! she told herself. The six months her parents had allotted her were not up. This was only her second day of job hunting. What if she couldn’t get a job on a newspaper? She could do something else until her opportunity did come along. But exactly what? She wasn’t prepared for a stenographic position. She didn’t know shorthand from Russian.

Day after day passed. Beverly did her utmost to find a position at something—anything. But everywhere there was the same cry—experience!

“How am I to get experience if no one will give me a chance?” she cried fretfully to Shirley.

“Go and see my dad, Beverly. Maybe he can give you general office work to do—or something like that.”

Beverly demurred. “I won’t impose on my friends.”

“Nonsense!” Shirley declared.

Beverly’s twenty dollars dwindled alarmingly. It seemed incredible that it could go so fast in such a manner that she could scarcely keep track of it. She was worried, truly worried. She wouldn’t borrow money from the girls, and she didn’t want to write home for money, but if she didn’t have some luck soon she might have to.

One morning, three weeks since she had last seen Charlie Blaine and the job was still in the dim future, she opened her pocketbook to make sure she had her key before she went out. Nestling beside her key was a new ten dollar bill. She glanced up quickly first at Lois and then at Lenora. Lois was engaged in transferring the New York skyline to the sketching board before her. Lenora was deeply involved in a magazine.

“Where did this ten dollars come from?” Beverly asked.

Lois looked up in genuine surprise. “You just took it from your purse. Why ask us? Do you want to get rid of it?”

“It wasn’t there last night,” Beverly said.

“Santa Claus is ahead of time,” Lois offered, turning back to her work.

Lenora had not raised her head from her magazine. Beverly wasn’t sure if she was pretending or if she really hadn’t heard her speak. Crossing to Lenora, Beverly dropped the ten dollar bill into Lenora’s open magazine.

“Nothing doing, Lenora,” she said.

“Huh? What do you mean?” her friend demanded. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Oh, yes you do,” she said, “and I won’t take it.”

“Why not?” Lenora demanded. “You can pay it back later.”

“If I ever get a job,” Beverly said. “No,” she continued firmly. “I won’t take it. This job business was all my idea and I’ll work it out. I let myself in for more than I thought, but I’ll get along.”

Her speech was confident and she looked confident as she stepped briskly along the street. Her head was up, eyes bright, cheeks rosy with color, but in her heart she was apprehensive and fearful. She was fearful of what today might bring. She was down to her last dollar. Last night, when the girls were in bed, she had stood at the window overlooking the city as was her usual custom and battled with her pride. It had been a long and hard struggle. It meant giving up what she was convinced was her big chance, but she was prepared to give in and go home tonight if today turned out as fruitless as every other day had done. She was prepared to admit she wasn’t as capable or as independent as she had thought she was.

This morning she was on her way to see Charlie Blaine. It would be for the last time. If the job he had promised her had not materialized yet she would tell him not to bother and that she was going home. She was afraid he would say “I told you so” and that was what angered her. Every one had advised her and the others against coming alone to New York. Time and time again they had been told of the other hundreds of college graduates seeking their fortunes much the same as they. She would have given anything if she could have made a go of it.

She had a little difficulty in getting past the office boy to see Charlie Blaine but she finally managed it.

“Where in the world have you been?” was his greeting. “I lost your address and I’ve been trying for a week to locate you. I’ve got a job for you. One of our sob sisters has resigned. She’s going to get married Saturday and you’re to be our new one. How’d you like that?”

“I’d like that fine!” she said joyously. “When do I start?”

“Right away. She’s anxious to leave and the sooner she can acquaint you with the office and some of your work the better.”

That afternoon when Beverly left the Tribune office she was more cheered than she had been for weeks. At last she had a job! At last she was started. True, it wasn’t much of a job yet, but as she grew accustomed to the newspaper work and really got into the swing of things it would be better. She ran up the steps to the apartment and entered the room like a miniature whirlwind.

“I’ve got it!” she cried jubilantly.

“Goodness, is it catching?” Lenora inquired lazily from her perch on the window sill where she was supervising the work of Lois.

“What is it?” Lois added, sketching pencil poised in mid air.

“A job!” Beverly answered, tossing her hat and coat to one side. “A real, honest-to-goodness job on a newspaper!”

“No!” her friends chorused together. “Where?”

“Tell us all about it!” Lenora commanded, seating herself beside Beverly on the divan while Lois left her drawing and eagerly joined them.

The girls were as pleased as Beverly over her chance and generously prophesied a brilliant future for her. Always the leader in their doings at college, it seemed somehow fitting that Beverly should be the first to get her chance here, too. They were glad.

Beverly Gray's Career

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