Chapter 8: Payday
2023-05-02 Author: Yue Shang Xintou
"Old John."
Interrupting Old John's persuasion, Colin turned to look at the old employee of the Newspaper Office.
"Considering The Messenger's current sales, do you think there's any fundamental difference between making an extra 5 cents from the newsboys or making 5 cents less?"
"..." Colin's rhetorical question, as expected, plunged Old John into silence. He lowered his head, adjusted his brass-rimmed glasses, and after a long moment, reluctantly shook his head.
"Perhaps you are right, boss."
Indeed, The Messenger's sales had plummeted to rock bottom, less than a fifth of its peak.
Such dismal sales were long insufficient to support the Newspaper Office's operations.
All three people in the Newspaper Office knew this, but no one was willing to burst the bubble.
After all, once the bubble burst, they would face the brutal reality of The Great Depression.
"So, instead of fussing over the 5 cents in the newsboys' hands, it's better to think about how to get the remaining news for The Messenger finished before the weekend publication."
Colin's words brought Old John back from his dilemma. Rotating his slightly aching wrist, he glanced back at the typesetting machine behind him and said with some distress, "Everything else is fine. I've already had Little John prepare all the materials for publication, but the most crucial front page spot still hasn't been settled."
Originally, Old John had planned to publish a photo of the actress Virginia Cherrill on the newspaper's front page.
She was the actress who collaborated with Charlie Chaplin to play the female lead, a flower girl, in City Lights.
Although the film's popularity had long faded by now, featuring Virginia Cherrill as front page news felt a bit like old news. However, given The Messenger's current situation, there wasn't much room to be picky.
What a pity, even such an opportunity didn't favor Old John and the others.
Just as Colin had heard outside the Newspaper Office, Little John's photoshoot hadn't gone smoothly, and he hadn't managed to get a clear picture of Cherrell to use as the newspaper's cover photo.
"If it's for the newspaper's front page, I actually already have an idea."
Seeing Old John's troubled expression, Colin, however, looked confident.
Then, under the other's surprised gaze, he handed over the news manuscript he had prepared long ago and the photos.
"This is?"
Instinctively reaching out to take the manuscript paper Colin handed over, Old John lowered his head and scanned the contents, then frowned, hesitating, "Isn't this content a bit too..."
Although Old John didn't finish his sentence, Colin still understood the latter half of his meaning from his expression.
"So, do you think there's anything wrong with what I've written?"
Facing Colin's counter-question, Old John read the content in his hand once more before shaking his head. "Indeed, as you said, boss, there's nothing wrong with the content, other than the uncompromising wording."
It was too uncompromising.
Old John silently added that thought in his heart, but outwardly, he didn't dare to argue further. He could see that since Colin had already prepared the news manuscript, whatever he said now would be useless.
In that case, why would he go against it and needlessly displease the boss?
"Since there's no problem with the content, let's start typesetting immediately. There's not much time left until publication day."
Today was already Friday; at best, there was less than a day and a half left until The Messenger's publication date.
Newspaper typesetting in this era was far from as convenient as in later generations. Even the best typesetters would need several hours to complete the layout of a single newspaper.
Therefore, after receiving the affirmative instruction, Old John no longer hesitated. He immediately took the manuscript paper in his hand and sat down in front of the typesetting machine, beginning to arrange the content word by word.
While Old John began his work, Colin on the other side didn't idle either.
At the Messenger Newspaper, which only had three people, he was not only the boss but also served as the Newspaper Office's editor.
Sitting at his desk, Colin picked up his ink-filled fountain pen and, combining the various news materials Little John had collected, began to rush his writing.
Fortunately, his identity as a reporter from another world had made Colin familiar with the process of rushing out news. Although the loss of computer convenience had slowed his writing significantly, the urgency of time forced Colin to churn out the manuscript as quickly as possible.
Tap, tap, tap—Unbeknownst to him, the sky outside grew gradually darker.
Finally finishing his typesetting work, Old John let out a long breath. Twisting his aching shoulders, he looked back to see Colin still hunched over his desk, writing furiously.
"Cough, cough..." Seeing this, Old John hesitated for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth and deliberately coughing.
"What's wrong?" Old John's cough didn't attract Colin at the desk. Instead, it woke up Little John, who was dozing with his chin propped on his hand nearby.
Smacking his lips, Little John gazed around his surroundings with a bewildered look, then asked Old John with a half-asleep expression.
"None of your business." Old John glanced at Little John with a speechless expression, replied with a straight face, and simultaneously intensified his coughing.
"Cough, cough, cough, cough!"
This time, Old John's cough had an effect. Disturbed by the coughing, Colin at his desk reluctantly stopped writing on the manuscript paper in his hand, and rotated his aching wrist.
He only then looked up and noticed the dark night outside the Newspaper Office.
"It's already this late."
Seeing this, Colin put down his fountain pen. Noticing the gaze from Old John and his son, he blinked, and his expression immediately turned a little enlightened.
"My apologies, I was so absorbed in writing that I forgot to notify you."
"It's fine, I just finished typesetting the news manuscript in my hands anyway."
Hearing this, Old John quickly responded, completely avoiding any mention of his recent coughing.
Shaking his head, he rose from his desk.
Colin knew very well that the reason the two had stayed so late and not left was certainly not as simple as being dedicated and loving their work.
Therefore, he didn't say anything more. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his money pouch, and then, under the gaze of both Old John and Little John, poured out two ten-dollar stacks of coins.
"Good work, be careful on your way."
Handing these two ten-dollar stacks of coins to Old John and Little John, Colin casually reminded them.
"Thanks boss!"
Receiving this week's weekly wage from Colin, a faint smile appeared on Old John's gaunt face. As for Little John on the other side, he couldn't help but beam with joy.
Watching John and his son leave the Newspaper Office, Colin finally sighed, weighing the money pouch in his hand, which no longer held much weight.
After paying the workers their weekly wage, the Messenger Newspaper was truly on the verge of collapse.
(end of chapter)