A Yellow Journalist #270719

In which Miss Massey Aimed to Beat Mr. Thompson<br><br>As I stepped from the train, I came face to face with Ted Thompson of the Times-Record.<br><br>He took off his hat, with a rather sardonic smile. Everybody knows that Thompson doesn't consider a newspaper woman a foeman worthy of his steel - he's said so often enough. So I bowed stiffly and resentingly and, in my heart, fearfully. But this last, of course, he couldn't see, and I'd have died before letting him know it. Oh, to beat Thompson on a story!<br><br>"The Pollexfen story, of course, Miss Massey?" he asked, turning with me to walk up the main street leading to the hotel.<br><br>"Why, we must have come on the same train," I exclaimed irrelevantly, not daring to answer him.<br><br>"Yes; I was in the smoker. Both the News and the T-R seem to have caught the contagion at the same time. The Press and the Tribune will get it by to-morrow, and all the boys'll be up here. But it's no use."<br><br>I looked up at him inquiringly.