“You’ve got your chance for a diagnosis at last, Doctor,” he whispered to the health officer.

Half an hour later, Dr. Merritt came out to the waiting journalist.

“Typhus,” he said, with grievous exultation.  “Unmistakably and officially typhus.  We’ve got our case.  Only, I wish to God it had been any of the rest of us.”

“Will he die?” queried Ellis.

“God knows.  I should say his chance was worse than even.  He’s worn out from overwork.”

For assurance, Dr. Elliot was sent for and added his diagnosis.  Ellis got authoritative interviews with both men, and the “Clarion’s” great, potential sensation was now fully ripe for print.  Denton the reporter had done the previous work well.  His “story,” leaded out and with subheads, ran flush to two pages of the paper, and every paragraph of it struck fire.  It would, as Ellis said, set off a ton of dynamite beneath sleepy Worthington.  That night Veltman “pulled” a proof, and Ellis stayed far into the morning, pasting up a dummy of the article for Hal’s inspection and final judgment.

It was on Thursday that Norman Hale was taken to the hospital.  Friday noon McGuire Ellis laid before his principal the carefully constructed dummy with the brief comment: 

“There’s the epidemic story.”

Hal accepted and read it in silence.  Once or twice he made a note.  When he had finished, he turned to find Ellis’s gaze fixed upon him.

“We ought to run it Monday,” said Ellis.  “We can round it all up by then.”

Monday is the dead day of journalism, the day for which news articles which do not demand instant production are reserved, both to liven up a dull paper and because the sensation produced is greater.  However, the sensation inevitable to the publishing of this article, as Hal instantly realized, would be enormous on any day.

“It’s big stuff,” said he, with a long breath.

Ellis nodded.  “Shall I release it for Monday?”

“N-n-no,” came the dubious reply.

“It’s been held already for ten days.”

“Then what does it matter if we hold it a little longer?”

“Human lives, maybe.  Isn’t that matter enough?”

“That’s only a guess.  I’ve got to have time on this,” insisted Hal.  “It’s the most vital question of policy that the paper has had to face.”

“Policy!” grunted Ellis savagely.

“Besides, I’ve given my word to the Chamber of Commerce Committee that we wouldn’t publish any epidemic news without due warning to them.”

“Then it’s to be killed?”

“‘Wait for orders’ proof,” said Hal stonily.

“I might have known,” sneered Ellis, with an infinite depth of scorn, and went to bear the bitter message to Wayne.