"Why shouldn't I interview Stalin?" the rich and dapper little son of an Ohio railway conductor asked himself recently in Paris. Stalin is the son of a blacksmith. In Paris the conductor's son grabbed a telephone, called Moscow, asked the U. S. Embassy if the blacksmith's son would consent to see him, took a train for Moscow.
At friendly William Christian Bullitt's lavish U. S. Embassy, good news awaited Roy Wilson Howard, orchidaceous board chairman of Scripps-Howard Newspapers. Stalin would see Publisher Howard on Sunday and Stalin did, to the sour...
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