Before the day was over, system had been introduced, and the "Herald" was

running on it: and all that warm, rainy afternoon, the editor and Fisbee

worked in the editorial rooms, Parker and Bud and Mr. Schofield (after his

return with the items and a courteous message from Ephraim Watts) bent

over the forms downstairs, and Uncle Xenophon was cleaning the store-room

and scrubbing the floor.

An extraordinary number of errands took the various members of the

printing force up to see the editor-in-chief, literally to see the editor-

in-chief; it was hard to believe that the presence had not flown--hard to

keep believing, without the repeated testimony of sight, that the dingy

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room upstairs was actually the setting for their jewel; and a jewel they

swore she was. The printers came down chuckling and gurgling after each

interview; it was partly the thought that she belonged to the "Herald,"

their paper. Once Ross, as he cut down one of the temporarily distended

advertisements, looked up and caught the foreman giggling to himself.

"What in the name of common-sense you laughin' at, Cale?" he asked.

"What are you laughing at?" rejoined the other.

"I dunno!"

The day wore on, wet and dreary outside, but all within the "Herald's"

bosom was snug and busy and murmurous with the healthy thrum of life and

prosperity renewed. Toward six o'clock, system accomplished, the new

guiding-spirit was deliberating on a policy as Harkless would conceive a

policy, were he there, when Minnie Briscoe ran joyously up the stairs,

plunged into the room, waterproofed and radiant, and caught her friend in

her eager arms, and put an end to policy for that day.

But policy and labor did not end at twilight every day; there were

evenings, as in the time of Harkless, when lamps shone from the upper

windows of the "Herald" building. For the little editor worked hard, and

sometimes she worked late; she always worked early. She made some mistakes

at first, and one or two blunders which she took more seriously than any

one else did. But she found a remedy for all such results of her

inexperience, and she developed experience. She set at her task with the

energy of her youthfulness and no limit to her ambition, and she felt that

Harkless had prepared the way for a wide expansion of the paper's

interests; wider than he knew. She had a belief that there were

possibilities for a country newspaper, and she brought a fresh point of

view to operate in a situation where Harkless had fallen, perhaps, too

much in the rut; and she watched every chance with a keen eye and looked

ahead of her with clear foresight. What she waited and yearned for and

dreaded, was the time when a copy of the new "Herald" should be placed in

the trembling hands of the man who lay in the Rouen hospital. Then, she

felt, if he, unaware of her identity, should place everything in her hands

unreservedly, that would be a tribute to her work--and how hard she would

labor to deserve it! After a time, she began to realize that, as his

representative and the editor of the "Herald," she had become a factor in

district politics. It took her breath--but with a gasp of delight, for

there was something she wanted to do.




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