“Why, sure.” The old man looked up and whistled. “Oh, Kitten! Come to Pappy.” Above their heads a tiny gust took shape, picked up bits of paper and stray leaves, and settled on the lot. Perkins peered into it.
“She hasn’t got it,” he said in aggrieved tones.
“She’ll get it.” Pappy stepped forward until the whirlwind enfolded him. They could see his lips move, but the words did not reach them.
“Now?” said Clarence.
“Not yet.” The whirlwind bounded up and leapt over an adjoining building. The managing editor opened his mouth, closed it again.
Kitten was soon back. She had dropped everything else and had just one piece of paper-the paper. “Now!” said Perkins. “Can you get a shot of that paper, Clarence-while it’s in the air?”
“Natch,” said Clarence, and raised his Speed Graphic. “Back a little, and hold it,” he ordered, speaking to the whirlwind.
Kitten hesitated and seemed about to skitter away. “Bring it around slow and easy, Kitten,” Pappy supplemented, “and turn it over-no, no! Not that way-the other edge up.” The paper flattened out and sailed slowly past them, the headline showing.
“Did you get it?” Perkins demanded.
“Natch,” said Clarence. “Is that all?” he asked the editor.
“Natc-I mean, ‘that’s all.’ ”
“Okay,” said Clarence, picked up his case, and left. The editor sighed. “Gentlemen,” he said, “let’s have a drink.”
Four drinks later Perkins and his boss were still arguing. Pappy had left. “Be reasonable, Boss,” Pete was saying, “you can’t print an item about a live whirlwind. They’d laugh you out of town.”
Managing Editor Gaines straightened himself.
“It’s the policy of the Forum to print all the news, and print it straight. This is news-we print it.” He relaxed. “Hey! Waiter! More of the same-and not so much soda.”
“But it’s scientifically impossible.”
“You saw it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-”
Gaines stopped him. “We’ll ask the Smithsonian Institution to investigate it.”
“They’ll laugh at you,” Perkins insisted. “Ever hear of mass hypnotism?”
“Huh? No, that’s no explanation-Clarence saw it, too.”
“What does that prove?”
“Obvious-to be hypnotized you have to have a mind. Ipso facto.”
“You mean ipse dixit.”
“Quit hiccuping. Perkins, you shouldn’t drink in the daytime. Now start over and say it slowly.”
“How do you know Clarence doesn’t have a mind?”
“Prove it.”
“Well, he’s alive-he must have some sort of a mind, then.”
“That’s just what I was saying, the whirlwind is alive; therefore it has a mind. Perkins, if those long-beards from the Smithsonian are going to persist in their unscientific attitude, I for one will not stand for it. The Forum will not stand for it. You will not stand for it.”
“Won’t I?”
“Not for one minute. I want you to know the Forum is behind you, Pete. You go back to the parking lot and get an interview with that whirlwind.”
“But I’ve got one. You wouldn’t let me print it.”
“Who wouldn’t let you print it? I’ll fire him! Come on, Pete. We’re going to blow this town sky high. Stop the run. Hold the front page. Get busy!” He put on Pete’s hat and strode rapidly into the men’s room.
Pete settled himself at his desk with a container of coffee, a can of tomato juice, and the Midnight Final (late afternoon) edition. Under a 4-col. cut of Kitten’s toy was his column, boxed and moved to the front page. 18-point boldface ordered SEE EDITORIAL PAGE 12. On page 12 another black line enjoined him to SEE “OUR FAIR CITY” PAGE ONE. He ignored this and read: MR. MAYOR-RESIGN!!!!
Pete read it and chuckled. “An ill wind-” “-symbolic of the spiritual filth lurking in the dark corners of the city hall.” “-will grow to cyclonic proportions and sweep a corrupt and shameless administration from office.” The editorial pointed out that the contract for street cleaning and trash removal was held by the Mayor’s brother-in-law, and then suggested that the whirlwind could give better service cheaper.
“Pete-is that you?” Pappy’s voice demanded. “They got me down at the station house.”
“What for?”
“They claim Kitten is a public nuisance.”
“I’ll be right over.” He stopped by the Art Department, snagged Clarence, and left. Pappy was seated in the station lieutenant’s office, looking stubborn. Perkins shoved his way in. “What’s he here for?” he demanded, jerking a thumb at Pappy.