Several boys (who, I may state frankly,
were traitors to the _Daily_ cause, spies and mischief-makers from
elsewhere) raced unhesitatingly in, crying that toasted cheese
sandwiches and jam tarts were to be distributed like lightning to all
authentic newspaper lads.
The entire gang followed--scores, over a hundred--inwardly expecting to
emerge instantly with teeth fully employed, followed like sheep into a
fold.
And the gate was shut.
Toasted cheese and hot jammy pastry were faithfully served to the ragged
host--but with no breathless haste. And when, loaded, the boys struggled
to depart, they were instructed by the kind philanthropist who had fed
them to depart by another exit, and they discovered themselves In an
enclosed yard, of which the double doors were apparently unyielding. And
the warehouse door was shut also. And as the cheese and jam disappeared,
shouts of fury arose on the air. The yard was so close to the offices of
the _Daily_ that the chimneypots of those offices could actually be
seen. And yet the shouting brought no answer from the lords of the
_Daily_, congratulating themselves up there on their fine account
of the football match, and on their celerity in going to press and on
the loyalty of their brigade.
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