Read Online Hope Takes Flight by Gilbert Morris - Free Book Online Page B

found the editor crouched over a large table littered with maps. Hearst, who had made journalism in America more like a bullfighting sport than anything else—shedding literary blood right and left, espousing every cause that caught his fancy, and developing yellow journalism to almost a fine art—looked up and frowned. “Come in, Amos. Look at this map.”
    Amos walked over to examine the map as Hearst began pointing out the positions of the European countries and informing Amos didactically where the battles would be fought. He had this quality, almost clairvoyant, of being able to predict when news would come, where it would come from, and who would be involved. Because of this, Hearst was always first on the scene. He and the Journal had the jump on every other paper in the country as a rule.
    â€œSit down, Amos,” he said gruffly. “On second thought—” he changed his mind—“ don’t sit down. You’ve got a job.”
    â€œYes, sir?” Amos asked curiously.
    â€œGo find Teddy Roosevelt and find out what he’s got to say, although we already know.” Hearst grinned sharkishly. “He’d like to raise a new corps of Rough Riders like he did in the Spanish-American war. Remember that?”
    â€œYes, I remember it very well.” Vivid images of the charge behind Teddy at San Juan Hill flashed through Amos’s mind. He’d been there that day, and the fact was a matter of pride to him.
    â€œThen go talk to the president,” Hearst broke into his thoughts.
    Amos blinked in surprise. “Well, sir, I think I can see Teddy without any problem. We’ve been pretty close for years, but I don’t know about the president. They say since the Lusitania was torpedoed, he’s not seeing anyone.”
    â€œThat’s your problem!” Hearst snapped. “That, and hanging onto your job. So, get out there, get those interviews, and get back as quickly as you can.” He dismissed Amos with a wave of his hand and went back to studying his maps.
    Amos left the office, so engrossed with the problem Hearst had tossed out to him that he didn’t even hear the greetings his fellow workers called out to him as he left.
    At least , he said to himself as he got into his car, I can see Teddy. That won’t be any problem . He left the inner city, headed for the home of Teddy Roosevelt.

    â€œYou may wait in here, sir. Mr. Roosevelt will be with you shortly.”
    â€œThank you very much.” Amos nodded at the tall servant who had ushered him into the fabulous North Room at Sagamore Hill, the home of Theodore Roosevelt, located at Oyster Bay on Long Island.
    He walked around the North Room and thought how much a room could reflect the life of a man. There were elephant tusks, a gift, he knew, from the Emperor of Abyssinia. The carpet, thick and lush, had come from the Shah of Persia. Over to one side was a glass case containing a suit of Japanese armor presented by Admiral Togo. One wall was decorated with the head of a magnificent elk staring down at him. On another was a St. Goudens bronze, “The Puritan.” Somehow it contrasted with the hunting trophies. The presidential flag hung high on the wall over a blue couch.
    â€œWell, well…here you are! Good to see you again, my boy.”
    Amos turned as Teddy Roosevelt entered the room, striding purposefully toward him, and put out his hand. “Good to see you, sir. You’re looking well.”
    â€œOh, not bad for an old man.” Roosevelt grinned, exposing huge teeth, easy to caricature by his political enemies.
    He did look fit. Although blind in one eye from a boxing accident, he still had the glow of good health that had taken him all over the world—from the jungles of Africa hunting big game, across the American prairie, to the Panama Canal, where he had operated one of the huge earth-moving machines. He was—and had been for a long time—the