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gone out on strike. Barre is within a matter of thirty miles from Dartmouth. The football story was the big left-hand story; but the right-hand story, which was the lead story, was about a marble strike in Vermont. I was surprised, to say the least. I said, “What editor has got the guts to feature a marble strike on the front page on the day of the Yale-Dartmouth game?" I looked at the board of editors, and found it was a boy called Bud Schulberg.

That name meant nothing to me, but I tucked the paper in my pocket and Monday when I was back in the office I wrote a letter to Mr. Bud Schulberg, saying “I don't know who you are or what kind of a fellow you are, but you certainly have got one hell of a nerve putting a marble strike in your college paper the day of the Yale game in the front-page, right-hand column. I'd like to meet a boy like you. Are you coming down to New York for Thanksgiving? If so, would you come and have lunch with me?”

Well, I got back an ecstatic letter. Of course he was coming to New York and of course he would have lunch with me. He never had met a book publisher before. I said to Don, “I bet this is the son of some labor leader. He's probably a tough bruiser with a big chip on his shoulder. It's going to be pretty interesting to see.”

Well, in came little Bud Schulberg, who, when he's nervous, still stutters terribly. He was beside himself with excitement at meeting a New York publisher. I was rather startled by his whole make-up and the stutter. We