Ingolby turned and saw Nathan Rockwell, the doctor. "Ah, Rockwell," he
responded cheerfully, "two minutes and a half, if you like! What is it?"
The Boss Doctor, as he was familiarly called by every one, to identify
him from the newer importations of medical men, drew from his pocket a
newspaper.
"There's an infernal lie here about me," he replied. "They say that I--"
He proceeded to explain the misstatement, as Ingolby studied the paper
carefully, for Rockwell was a man worth any amount of friendship.
"It's a lie, of course," Ingolby said firmly as he finished the
paragraph. "Well?"
"Well, I've got to deal with it."
"You mean you're going to deny it in the papers?"
"Exactly."
"I wouldn't, Rockwell."
"You wouldn't?"
"No. You never can really overtake a newspaper lie. Lots of the people
who read the lie don't see the denial. Your truth doesn't overtake the
lie--it's a scarlet runner."
"I don't see that. When you're lied about, when a lie like that--"
"You can't overtake it, Boss. It's no use. It's sensational, it runs too
fast. Truth's slow-footed. When a newspaper tells a lie about you, don't
try to overtake it, tell another."
He blinked with quizzical good-humour. Rockwell could not resist the
audacity.
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