"I could
teach him more than he could teach me, now."
"I doubt that, Walt. Professor Hartzenbosch may be an old maid in
trousers, but he's really a very sound scholar. But I wasn't thinking
about that. I was thinking about your going to Terra to school."
"Huh?" I forgot to eat, for a moment. "Let's stop kidding."
"I didn't start kidding; I meant it."
"Well, think again, Dad. It costs money to go to school on Terra. It
even costs money to go to Terra."
"We have a little money, Walt. Maybe more than you think we do. And
with things getting better, we'll lease more teleprinters and get more
advertising. You're likely to get better than the price of your
passage out of that story we're sending off on the _Bolivar_, and that
won't be the end of it, either. Fenris is going to be in the news for
a while. You may make some more money writing. That's why I was
careful to give you the by-line on that Gerrit story." His pipe had
gone out again; he took time out to relight it, and then added:
"Anything I spend on this is an investment. The _Times_ will get it
back."
"Yes, that's another thing; the paper," I said. "If you're going to be
mayor, you won't be able to do everything you're doing on the paper
now, and then do all my work too."
"Well, shocking as the idea may be, I think we can find somebody to
replace you."
"Name one," I challenged.
"Well, Lillian Arnaz, at the Library, has always been interested in
newspaper work," he began.
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