The boys walked for some time in silence; then Horace said,--
"Old man, I hope, whatever they do, they'll let us be together at this place."
"We needn't expect any such luck," said Reginald. "It wouldn't be half so bad if they would."
"You know," said Horace, "I can't help hoping they'll take us as clerks, at least. They must know we're educated, and more fit for that sort of work than--"
"Than doing common labourer's work," said Reg. "Rather! If they'd put us to some of the literary work, you know, Horace--editing, or correcting, or reporting, or that sort of thing, I could stand that. There are plenty of swells who began like that. I'm pretty well up in classics, you know, and--well, they might be rather glad to have some one who was."
"Richmond spoke as if we were to be taken on as ordinary workmen."
"Oh, Richmond's an ass," said Reg, full of his new idea; "he knows nothing about it. I tell you, Horace, they wouldn't be such idiots as to waste our education when they could make use of it. Richmond only knows the manager, but the editor is the chief man, after all."
By this time they had reached Fleet Street, and their attention was absorbed in finding the by-street in which was situated the scene of their coming labours. They found it at last, and with beating hearts saw before them a building surmounted by a board, bearing in characters of gold the legend, _Rocket_ Newspaper Company, Limited.
The boys stood a moment outside, and the courage which had been slowly rising during the walk evaporated in an instant. Ugly and grimy as the building was, it seemed to them like some fairy castle before which they shrank into insignificance. A board inscribed, "Work-people's Entrance," with a hand on it pointing to a narrow side court, confronted them, and mechanically they turned that way. Reginald did for a moment hesitate as he passed the editor's door, but it was no use. The two boys turned slowly into the court, where, amid the din of machinery, and a stifling smell of ink and rollers, they found the narrow passage which conducted them to their destination.
A man at a desk half way down the passage intercepted their progress.
"We want to see the manager, please," said Horace.