Part 8 (1/2)

Hugh was apparently also highly amused, but he did not lose sight of the main facts in the case, as his next remark proved.

”Remember we settled it that we'd be around to look Jim up about half-past eight, instead of nine o'clock this morning. Thad, it's getting near that time now, so perhaps we'd better be moving. Jim might feel like starting a bit early, so as to give him more time later on for his regular duties. You see, being left in sole charge of the office while Mr. Hanks is away makes him responsible for even the job printing.”

Thad was only too glad for an excuse for an earlier start.

”If we have to do any loafing,” he went on to say, philosophically, ”we can put in the time at the _Courier_ office, just as well as anywhere else. I always did want to mosey around that place, and while Mr. Hanks is away, perhaps I'll have a chance to handle a few type, and watch the regular comp work like lightning. The smell of printers' ink seems to draw me, Hugh, to tell you the honest truth.”

Although Thad possibly did not know it at the time, that fascination has been responsible for many a noted editor's career, as the lure of printers' ink, when it gets a firm hold on any one, can seldom be shaken off in after years. Once a newspaper man and it becomes a lifetime pursuit. But then, of course, Thad might be only imagining such things, and the dim future hold out other possibilities for a career that would be far removed from an editor's chair.

They found Jim on deck, and buried up to his ears in work. He seemed to enjoy it to the limit, too, for it made him appear so responsible and tickled his vanity. He grinned at seeing his two young friends.

”I suppose now you've read my latest effusion, boys?” Jim remarked, with an a.s.sumption of extreme modesty, which, however, hardly suited his usual bold demeanor.

Jim had all a reporter's ”nerve,” and could coolly face a raging subscriber who had dropped in to ask to have his subscription closed because of a certain offensive article in the last issue--yes, and likely as not Jim could soothe the ruffled feathers of the enraged man, show him how he had really been paid a compliment, and finally bow him out of the office with another year's subscription left in the shape of a dollar and a half in good money.

”We've fairly _devoured_ it, Jim,” frankly admitted Thad. ”Why, I can repeat it off-hand right now, I've read it so often. And Jim, I want to say that it's as clever a piece of work as I ever got hold of. That terrible Texan stands out as clear as print. Everybody in Scranton will be rubbering all today, thinking they can see Marshal Hastings in each stranger in town. I congratulate you, Jim; you're a peach at your trade, believe me.”

Of course that sort of ”gush” just tickled Jim immensely. He tried not to show it, but his eyes were twinkling with gratified vanity.

It was fine to hear other people complimenting him so warmly, even though they were but boys from Scranton High. Praise is acceptable even from the lowly; and Jim made queer motions with his lips as though he might be rolling the sweet morsel over his tongue.

”Glad you like it, fellows,” he said, in as unconcerned a voice as he could muster to the fore. ”Course there was some hurry, because I'm rushed for time, and I could have done a heap better if I really tried to lay myself out. But I guess that ought to fill the bill, and give Brother Lu a little scare, eh, Thad, old scout?”

”I'm expecting he'll shake himself out of his shoes, or rather Brother-in-law Andrew's footwear,” exclaimed the eager Thad. ”But say, Jim, how about your going out with us, and watching him skip!”

Jim looked serious.

”H'm! got an awful bunch of work to do, fellows, this morning, as well as hold the editorial desk down for Mr. Hanks; but perhaps the sooner we get that little job over with the better. Yes, I'll call Philip, our boy here, who's rubbing the ink off his face and hands, and we'll all start out to finish Brother Lu's career in Scranton.”

CHAPTER XI

SOMETHING GOES WRONG

It was in this confident mood that they made their start. Philip had the copy of the _Courier_, which Jim had deftly folded so that the headlines of his startling article would be seen immediately any one picked the paper up. He was also instructed to simply say that the management of the weekly, wis.h.i.+ng to give more citizens of Scranton an opportunity to get acquainted with the feast of good things served up every Sat.u.r.day, was sending out a supply of sample copies, and that a subscription would be much appreciated. As Philip was a shrewd little fellow he ”caught on” to the idea, and would without fail carry it through all right.

It was not intended that any occupant of the Hosmer home should suspect the presence of the three who meant to see what happened. Thad knew just how they could advance fairly close without being seen, since he had been ”playing spy” before on his own account, and was, therefore, acquainted with every bush capable of affording shelter.

Accordingly, when they found themselves drawing near their intended destination, Thad was given charge of the expedition, and he seemed pleased to serve in the exalted capacity of pilot or guide. He led the way, and the other two followed as close to his heels as possible.

In this manner they finally found themselves as close to the cottage as circ.u.mstances and a scarcity of sheltering bushes would allow.

”Here's where I hide,” whispered Thad, coming to a sudden pause, and remaining in a crouching position. ”We can see everything that goes on outside the house and, if the door should be left open on such a fine warm morning, perhaps hear something that might be said inside.”

Both Hugh and Jim seemed quite satisfied with the prospect, if their nods could be taken for a.s.surance.

”If everything is ready, and the trap set,” remarked Jim, softly, ”I'll give Philip the signal we agreed on.”

”Go ahead, then,” said Thad, eagerly, his eyes fairly dancing with expectancy; for somehow his heart seemed more than ever set on relieving poor Matilda Hosmer from the fresh load she had taken so generously on her already tired shoulders.

Accordingly Jim, without raising his head above the level of the bush that concealed his body, waved his handkerchief three times. He knew that Philip would be waiting and watching for such a sign, because before they left the boy Thad had taken pains to point out to him where they expected to hide.

Sure enough, hardly had Jim made the third and concluding wave than the carrier was seen to come in sight, bearing quite a load of papers; which in reality be expected to deliver on his first round to regular customers; for none of them saving that particular one were to be given away free as sample copies; and that had, as Thad expressed it, ”a string tied to it.”