CHAPTER I.
HE DINED WITH ME LAST NIGHT The afternoon edition of the _Metropolitan Planet_ was going to press.
Five thousand copies a minute were reeling off its giant cylinders.

A square acre of paper was passing through its presses every hour.

In the huge _Planet_ building, which dominated Broadway, employes, compositors, reporters, advertisers, surged to and fro.

Placed in a single line (only, of course, they wouldn't be likely to consent to it) they would have reached across Manhattan Island.

Placed in two lines, they would probably have reached twice as far.