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for the paper, but you tipped him, remember? A dollar. You're the soul of generosity."
    "And you're the soul of bunk," she said, making him laugh as they walked off.
    At home that night, Maureen explained that "redundant" meant exactly what he had guessed it meant, but O'Connor was too excited about the silver dollar (which he had shown only to Maureen) to feel any harm from the rich woman's words. He was convinced it was a lucky dollar, and perhaps it was, because when he went to work the next day, the boss told him he was being given the corner at Broadway and Magnolia.
    Several weeks later, he was making a heated protest to Geoffrey, the night security man, who was perhaps not ten years older than the paperboy.
    "But Jack Corrigan's my friend and it's important!"
    "O'Connor, please be reasonable," Geoff was saying in a low voice. "I let you stay here after the other boys have all gone home, and I could get in trouble for that. Mr. Corrigan is a busy man. He's working on his story about the trial and I'm not going to disturb him."
    "Just try. Please!"
    Geoffrey sighed, then lifted his phone. "Mr. Corrigan? Sorry to disturb you, but there's a paperboy here who...No, sir, I haven't taken leave of my senses, but..."
    O'Connor, desperate, pulled out his lucky dollar. "Send this up to him!"
    Geoff said, "I don't think he can be bribed for a silver dollar, kid."
    Corrigan must have heard the exchange, though, because in the next moment Geoff was listening again, and his expression changed to one of disbelief. "Yes, sir," he said. He turned to O'Connor. "Let me get somebody to watch the desk. I'll take you up there myself."
    "No," O'Connor said, "he should come down here."
    "Oh, for goodness' sakes--"
    "May I please speak to him on the phone?"
    Geoff handed the phone over with a "be my guest" gesture.
    "Mr. Corrigan?"
    "Hello, kid. Come on up, I'll show you the newsroom."
    The temptation was mighty and he nearly gave in, but he said, "Sir, I've talked this over with my big sister and--"
    "Your big sister? Listen, old pal, you've been holding out on me. How old is she?"
    "Maureen? Eleven."
    "Hmm. A little young, even for me. Nevertheless, what did the glorious Maureen advise?"
    He thought hard, trying to remember the exact words Maureen had told him to use. "I saw something today that seems important. It's about the trial. But if I come up there to the newsroom, people from the News are going to know where you heard about this, and if they do, they'll want me to be their... their..."
    "Paperboy?" Corrigan supplied.
    "Unidentified source," O'Connor said, finally remembering the rest of the speech.
    There was the slightest hesitation before he said, "Put Geoff back on the line, kid."
    It was not O'Connor's first defeat, but it was bitter all the same, and as he handed the phone back to Geoff and turned away from the desk, he found himself unable to meet the security guard's look of sympathy. He put on his cap and was pushing the big front door open when Geoff called, "Hey, kid! Don't leave."
    When O'Connor turned back, Geoff said, "He wants to know if you've had supper yet."
    O'Connor shook his head.
    "Then wait for him over at Big Sarah's, down the street. He'll hear your story there."
    O'Connor grinned and thanked Geoff as he hurried out the great brass doors.
    Big Sarah's was an all-night diner two doors down from the paper. It wasn't a fancy place, but O'Connor had never eaten a meal that his mother or one of his sisters hadn't cooked--unless you counted an apple or two from a street vendor--so he was nearly as much in awe of Big Sarah's as he was of the Wrigley Building. His breath frosted the window as he peered in and saw that the place was nearly empty, just one old man drinking coffee at the counter.
    It was a little cold out, but he was sure he would be thrown out of the place if he stepped inside, so he stood just outside the diner's entrance. He took off his cap and was combing his hair with his hand, when the roundest