Paul and the Printing Press

de enough money for the new typewriter, and even a litt

hundred-dollar deficit, he could scarcely speak for amazement. There must be some mistake, he murmured over and over. He had kept the accounts very carefully, and not an expenditure had been made that had not been talked over first with the board and promptly recorded. There never h

seemed to add up quite correctly. So, however, did the deposit slips from the bank. And the tragedy was that the two

ing expenses. What was to be done? The bill must be paid. It would never do to let the M

hey stood. And so each month the boys had plotted out their expenses and kept rigidly within the amount of cash they had in reserve. They had never

, here they were confronted by an e

ot a tremendous sum. But when you had not the fifty,

alking enigma of it.

, it would not be so bad," groaned Melville. "It ma

Paul repl

hey were not such clever business men as they had t

said Paul. "If it had been twen

off spe

how carefully we have estimated our expenses each month. We have kept a nest-egg in the bank, too, all the time, in case we did get stuck. I can't understand it. We haven't bra

ly. "Probably, though, we were too generous. Wouldn

to tell my father we were in debt he would say it was about what he expected

aid slowly, "but I know he would be awfully di

, Dick, and Harry shouting 'I told you so!' at me. What do you say, Paul, that we keep this thing to ourselves? If we

t h

eturned. "All I know is I'

elville? What is

ust p

W

and

still; then Melv

any ready m

-e

e a hundred-pay the fifty-dollar defic

d pay half of

ep

-s

anage it-fif

ould yo

t I have a Liberty Bond that I

a shame," ob

ng rather than having the whole sch

ing joshed, either," d

fussing you

e in order to earn enough money for a typewriter. I've

n! Don't do it if you don

you had the money right in your hand. This snarl is as much mine as yours. We

til another month, I suppose,

start

other month. I say we clear the thing right up and start fair. I

! You sure are

anything else

ed into cash; Paul's typewriter sacrificed; the fifty-doll

e sensed that its reputation had trembled on the bri

e and more the organ of speech for the community. Persons who had never ventured into print-who, perhaps, never would have ventured-summoned up courage to send to this more modest paper articles that were received with welcome. Being first efforts and words that t

such matter. The great mass of material sent in, however, was unclassified and found its way into the department labeled: Town Suggestions; or into the pages known as: Our Fathers and Mothers. Neither of these departments had originally been featured in the March Hare plan; they came as a natural outgrowth of the paper. Parents had things which they wanted to say to one another or to their boys and girls. There was many a p

prised in all his life. He had long thought he knew a good deal about the make-up of a paper,-what would interest and what would not; in fact, he considered himself an expert in that sphere. He had put years of study into the matter. Even now he would not have b

r than giving ear to their groping and clamoring desire for a hearing. The Echo never discussed questions with its readers. Its editor had never deigned to do so, so why should his publication? To bicker, argue, and debate would have been enti

as actually becoming the authorized mouthpiece of the town. It would have been blind not to recognize the fact. Fools had indeed rushed in where angels feared to tread, as

ased to be an absurdity in his eyes. He had regarded the first issues with derision. Then slowly his disdain had melted into astonishment, respect, admiration. There evidently was a spirit in Burmingham of which he had never suspected the existence,-an intelligence, an open-mindedness, a searching after truth. Hitherto the subscribers to any paper had been represented in his min

blood that glowed so warmly and sympathetical

aper traveled. He had never cared who they were, what they thought, or how they lived. The problems puzzling their brains were nothing to him. But he now owned with characteristic honest

a mere boy, a boy the age of his own son,

lay th

inct literary merit. On the contrary it na?vely confessed that it was young and did not know. It explained w

had always spoken. To listen to the opinions of others he had consider

of its uniqueness and wide appeal, the elder man faced the real psychological secret of the junior paper's su

the policy of the new America,-what its government, its statesmanship, its ideals should be. The Past was rich in advice, experience; the Present in hope, f

Did it reach the great human best that lies deep in every individual? Alas, he feared it did not. It was too autocratic. It aimed not to sti

body quailed before it. Even the least of the intellectuals fear

might become in time a paying investment. It was, of course, a bit crude at present; but the k

nd take it into his own hands? Might it not be nursed into a publication tha

revise some of its departments; and-well, he would probably change its name and its cover design. He could no

. Yes, he would get out the few remaining issues of the March Hare under its present name and then he would buy out the whole thing for a small sum and take it over. The boys would undoubtedly be glad enough to sell it, f

ter from his desk and decided with the same deliberation to purchase also certain oil properties in Pennsylvania. For Mr. Arthur Presby Carter was a man of broad financial interests and a