Exercising that double faculty of mind which later became a part of the Banneker legend in New York journalism, the reader, whilst absorbing the main and quite simple points of the report, recalled an instance in which an Atkinson and St. Philip ticket agent had been maneuvered into a posture facing a dazzling sunset, and had adjusted his vision to find it focused upon the barrel of a 45.  Without suspecting the Judge of hold-up designs, he nevertheless developed a parallel.  Leaving his chair he walked over and sat by the window.  Halfway through the document, he quietly laid it aside and returned the lawyer’s studious regard.

“Have you finished?” asked Judge Enderby.

“No.”

“You do not find it interesting?”

“Less interesting than your idea in giving it to me.”

“What do you conceive that to have been?”

By way of reply, Banneker cited the case of Tim Lake, the robbed agent.  “I think,” he added with a half smile, “that you and I will do better in the open.”

“I think so, too.  Mr. Banneker, are you honest?”

“Where I came from, that would be regarded as a trouble-hunter’s question.”

“I ask you to regard it as important and take it without offense.”

“I don’t know about that,” returned Banneker gravely.  “We’ll see.  Honest, you say.  Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you begin by doubting the honesty of a stranger against whom you know nothing?”

“Legal habit, I dare say.  Fortified, in this case, by your association with The Ledger.”

“You haven’t a high opinion of my paper?”

“The very highest, of its adroitness and expertness.  It can make the better cause appear the worse with more skill than any other journal in America.”

“I thought that was the specialty of lawyers.”

Judge Enderby accepted the touch with a smile.

“A lawyer is an avowed special pleader.  He represents one side.  A newspaper is supposed to be without bias and to present the facts for the information of its one client, the public.  You will readily appreciate the difference.”

“I do.  Then you don’t consider The Ledger honest.”

Judge Enderby’s composed glance settled upon the morning’s issue, spread upon his desk.  “I have, I assume, the same opinion of The Ledger’s honesty that you have.”

“Do you mind explaining that to me quite simply, so that I shall be sure to understand it?” invited Banneker.

“You have read the article about your exploit?”

“Yes.”

“Is that honest?”

“It is as accurate a job as I’ve ever known done.”

“Granted.  Is it honest?”

“I don’t know,” answered the other after a pause.  “I intend to find out.”

“You intend to find out why it is so reticent on every point that might impugn the police, I take it.  I could tell you; but yours is the better way.  You gave the same interview to your own paper that you gave to The Patriot, I assume.  By the way, what a commentary on journalism that the most scurrilous sheet in New York should have given the fullest and frankest treatment to the subject; a paper written by the dregs of Park Row for the reading of race-track touts and ignorant servant girls!”