MARY AND THE _EAGLE_.
The bay team traveled well, but it was late in the afternoon when Jack
drove into the town. Having been in Mertonville before, Jack knew
where to take Miss Glidden and Mrs. Potter.
Mertonville was a thriving place, calling itself a town, and ambitious
of some day becoming a city.
Not long after entering the village, Miss Glidden touched Jack's arm.
"Stop, please!" exclaimed Miss Glidden. "There are our friends. The
very people we're going to see. Mrs. Edwards and the Judge, and all!"
The party on foot had also halted, and were waiting to greet the
visitors. After welcomes had been exchanged, Mrs. Edwards, a tall,
dignified lady, with gray hair, turned to Mary and offered her hand.
"I'm delighted to see you, Miss Ogden," she exclaimed, "and your
brother John. I've heard so much about you both, from Elder Holloway
and the Murdochs. They are expecting you."
"We're going to the Murdochs'," said Mary, a little embarrassed by the
warmth of the greeting.
"You will come to see me before you go home?" said Mrs. Edwards. "I
don't wonder Miss Glidden is so fond of you and so proud of you. Make
her come, Miss Glidden."
"I should be very happy," said Miss Glidden benevolently, "but Mary has
so many friends."
"Oh, she'll come," said the Judge himself, very heartily. "If she
doesn't, I'll come after her."
"Shall I drive to your house now, Judge Edwards?" Jack said at last.
The party separated, and Jack started the bay team again.
The house of Judge Edwards was only a short distance farther, and that
of Mrs. Potter was just beyond.
"Mary Ogden," said Miss Glidden in parting, "you must surely accept
Mrs. Edwards's invitation. She is the kindest of women."
"Yes, Miss Glidden," said Mary, demurely.
Jack broke in: "Of course you will. You'll have a real good time, too."
"And you'll come and see me?" said Mrs. Potter, and Mary promised.
Then Jack and the Judge's coachman lowered to the sidewalk Miss
Glidden's enormous trunk.
As Mrs. Potter alighted, a few minutes later, she declared to Mary:
"I'm confident, my dear, that you will experience enthusiastic
hospitality."
"What shall I do?" asked Mary, as they drove away. "Miss Glidden
didn't mean what she said. She is not fond of me."
"The Judge meant it," said Jack. "They liked you. None of them
pressed me to come visiting, I noticed. I'll leave you at Murdoch's
and take the team to the stable, and then go to the office of the
_Eagle_ and see the editor."
But when they reached the Murdochs', good Mrs. Murdoch came to the
door. She kissed Mary, and then said:
"I'm so glad to see you! So glad you've come! Poor Mr. Murdoch--"
"Jack's going to the office to see him," said Mary.
"He needn't go there," said the editor's wife; "Mr. Murdoch is ill at
home. The storm and the excitement and the exposure have broken him
down. Come right in, dear. Come back, Jack, as soon as you have taken
care of the horses."
"It's a pity," said Jack as he drove away. "The _Eagle_ will have a
hard time of it without any editor."
He was still considering that matter when he reached the livery-stable,
but he was abruptly aroused from his thoughts by the owner of the team,
who cried excitedly:
"Hurrah! Here's my team! I say, young man, how did you cross Link's
bridge? A man on horseback just came here and told us it was down. I
was afraid I'd lost my team for a week."
"Well, here they are," said Jack, smiling. "They're both good
swimmers, and as for the carriage, it floated like a boat."
"Oh, it did?" laughed the stable-keeper, as he examined his property.
"Livermore sent you with them, I suppose. I was losing five dollars a
day by not having those horses here. What's your name? Do you live in
Crofield?"
"Jack Ogden."
"Oh! you're the blacksmith's son. Old Murdoch told me about you. My
name's Prodger. I know your father, and I've known him twenty years.
How did you get over the creek--tell me about it?"
Jack told him, and Mr. Prodger drew a long breath at the end of the
story.
"You didn't know the risk you were running," he said; "but you did
first-rate, and if I needed another driver I'd be glad to hire you.
What did Livermore say I was to pay you?"
"He didn't say," said Jack. "I wasn't thinking about being paid."
"So much the better. I think the more of you, my boy. But it was
plucky to drive that team over Link's bridge just before it went down.
I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll pay you what they'll earn me
to-night--it will be about three dollars--and we'll call it square.
How will that do?"
"It's more than I've earned," said Jack, gratefully.
"I'm satisfied, if you are," said Mr. Prodger as Jack jumped down.
"Come and see me again if you're to be in town. You're fond of horses
and have a knack with them."
"Three dollars!" said Jack, after the money had been paid him, and he
was on his way back to the Murdochs'. "Mother let me have the six
dollars they gave me for the fish. And this makes nine dollars. Why,
it will take me the rest of the way to the city--but I wouldn't have a
cent when I got there."
When he reached the editor's house, Jack noticed that the house was on
the same square with the block of wooden buildings containing the
_Eagle_ office, and that the editor could go to his work through his
own garden, if he chose, instead of around by the street. He was again
welcomed by Mrs. Murdoch, and then led at once into Mr. Murdoch's room,
where the editor was in bed, groaning and complaining in a way that
indicated much distress.
"I'm very sorry you're sick, Mr. Murdoch," said Jack.
"Thank you, Jack. It's just my luck. It's the very worst time for me
to be on the sick-list. Nobody to get out the _Eagle_. Lost my
'devil' to-day, too!"
"Lost your 'devil'?" exclaimed Jack.
"Yes," said Mr. Murdoch in despair. "No 'devil'! No editor! Nobody
but a wooden foreman and a pair of lead-headed type-stickers. The man
that does the mailing has more than he can do, too. There won't be any
_Eagle_ this week, and perhaps none next week. Plenty of 'copy' nearly
ready, too. It's too bad!"
[Illustration: _"There won't be any Eagle this week."_]
"You needn't feel so discouraged," said Jack, deeply touched by the
distress of the groaning editor. "Molly and I know what to do. She
can manage the copy, just as she did for the _Standard_ once. So can
I. We'll go right to work."
"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten," said Mr. Murdoch. "You've worked a while at
printing. I'm willing you should see what you can do. I'd like to
speak to Mary. I'm sorry to say that you'll have to sleep in the
office, Jack, for we've only one spare room in this nutshell of a
house."
"I don't mind that," said Jack.
"I hope I'll be out in a day or so," added the editor. "But, Jack, the
press is run by a pony steam-engine, and that foreman couldn't run it
to save his life," he added hopelessly.
"Why, it's nothing to do," exclaimed Jack. "I've helped run an engine
for a steam thrashing-machine. Don't you be worried about the engine."
Mr. Murdoch was able to be up a little while in the evening, and Mary
came in to see him. From what he said to her, it seemed as if there
was really very little to do in editing the remainder of the next
number of the _Eagle_.
"I'm so glad you're here," said Mrs. Murdoch, when Mary came out to
supper. "I never read a newspaper myself, and I don't know the first
thing about putting one together. It's too bad that you should be
bothered with it though."
"Why, Mrs. Murdoch," exclaimed Mary, laughing, "I shall be delighted.
I'd rather do it than not."
The truth was that it was not easy for either Mary or her brother to be
very sorry that Mr. Murdoch was not able to work. They did not feel
anxious about him, for his wife had told them it was not a serious
attack, and they enjoyed the prospect of editing the newspaper.
After supper Jack and Mary went through the garden to the _Eagle_
office. The pony-engine was in a sort of woodshed, the press was in
the "kitchen," as Mary called it, and the front room of the little old
dwelling-house was the business office. The editor's office and the
type-setting room were up-stairs.
Jack took a look at the engine.
"Any one could run that," he said. "I know just how to set it going.
Come on, Molly. This is going to be great fun."
The editor's room was only large enough for a table and a chair and a
few heaps of exchange newspapers. The table was littered and piled
with scraps of writing and printing.
"See!" exclaimed Jack, picking up a sheet of paper. "The last thing
Mr. Murdoch did was to finish an account of his visit to Crofield, and
the flood. We'll put that in first thing to-morrow. It's easy to edit
a newspaper. Where are the scissors?"
"We needn't bother to write new editorials," said Mary. "Here are all
these papers full of them."
"Of course," said Jack. "But we must pick out good ones."
Their tastes differed somewhat, and Mary condemned a number of articles
that seemed to Jack excellent. However, she selected a story and some
poems and a bright letter from Europe, and Jack found an account of an
exciting horse-race, a horrible railway accident, a base-ball match, a
fight with Indians, an explosion of dynamite, and several long strips
of jokes and conundrums.
"These are splendid editorials!" said Mary, looking up from her
reading. "We can cut them down to fit the _Eagle_, and nobody will
suspect that Mr. Murdoch has been away."
"Oh, they'll do," said Jack. "They're all lively. Mr. Murdoch is sure
to be satisfied. I don't think he can write better editorials himself."
The young editors were much excited over their work, and soon became so
absorbed in their duties that it was ten o'clock before they knew it.
"Now, Molly," said Jack, "we'll go to the house and tell him it's all
right. We'll set the _Eagle_ a-going in the morning. I knew we could
edit it."
Mary had very little to say; her fingers ached from plying the
scissors, her eyes burned from reading so much and so fast, and her
head was in a whirl.
At the house they met Mrs. Murdoch.
"Oh, my dear children!" exclaimed she to Mary, "Mr. Murdoch is
delirious. The doctor's been here, and says he won't be able to think
of work--not for days and days. Can you,--_can_ you run the _Eagle_?
You won't let it stop."
"No, indeed!" said Mary. "There's plenty of 'copy' ready, and Jack can
run the engine."
"I'm so glad," said Mrs. Murdoch. "I'd never dare to clip anything. I
might make serious mistakes. He's so careful not to attack anything
nor to offend anybody. All sorts of people take the _Eagle_, and Mr.
Murdoch says he has to steer clear of almost everything."
"We won't write anything," said Jack; "we'll just select the best there
is and put it right in. Those city editors on the big papers know what
to write."
The editor's wife was convinced; and, after Mary had gone to her room,
Jack returned to a room prepared for him in the _Eagle_ office.
"I sha'n't wear my Sunday clothes to-morrow," said Jack; "I'll put on a
hickory shirt and old trousers; then I'll be ready to work."
The last thing he remembered saying to himself was:
"Well, I'm nine miles nearer to New York."
Morning came, and Jack was busy before breakfast, but he went to the
house early.
"I must be there when the 'hands' come," he said to Mrs. Murdoch.
"Molly ought to be in the office, too--"
"I've told Mr. Murdoch," she said, "but he has a severe headache. He
can't bear to talk."
"He needn't talk if he doesn't feel able," replied Jack. "The _Eagle_
will come out all right!"
Mary could hardly wait to finish her cup of coffee, but she tried hard
to appear calm. She was ready as soon as Jack, but she did not have
quite so much confidence in her ability to do whatever might be
necessary.
There was to be some press-work done that forenoon, and the pony-engine
had steam up when the foreman and the two type-setters reached the
office.
"Good-morning, Mr. Black," said Jack, as he came into the engine-room.
"It's all right. I'm Jack Ogden, a friend of Mr. Murdoch's. The new
editor's upstairs. There's some copy ready. Mr. Murdoch will not be
at the office for a week."
"Bless me!" said Mr. Black. "I reckoned that we'd have to strike work.
What we need most is a 'devil'--"
"I can be 'devil,'" said Jack. "I used to run the _Standard_."
"Boys," said the foreman, without the change of a muscle in his
pasty-looking face, "Murdoch's hired a proxy. I'll go up for copy."
He stumped upstairs to what he called the "sanctum." The door stood
open. Mr. Black's eyes blinked rapidly when he saw Mary at the
editor's table; but he did not utter a word.
"Good-morning, Mr. Black," said Mary, holding out Mr. Murdoch's
manuscript and a number of printed clippings. She rapidly told him
what they were, and how each of them was to be printed. Mr. Black
heard her to the end, and then he said:
"Good-morning, ma'am. Is your name Murdoch, ma'am?"
"No, sir. Miss Ogden," said Mary. "But no one need be told that Mr.
Murdoch is not here. I do not care to see anybody, unless it's
necessary."
"Yes, ma'am," said Mr. Black. "We'll go right along, ma'am. We're
glad the _Eagle_ is to come out on time, ma'am."
He was very respectful, as if the idea of having a young girl as editor
awed him; and he backed out of the office, with both hands full of
copy, to stump down-stairs and tell his two journeymen:
"It's all right, boys. Bless me! I never saw the like before."
He explained the state of affairs, and each in turn soon managed to
make an errand up-stairs, and then to come down again almost as awed as
Mr. Black had been.
"She's a driver," said the foreman. "She was made for a boss. She has
it in her eye."
Even Jack, when he was sent up after copy, was a little astonished.
"That's the way father looks," he thought, "whenever he begins to lose
his temper. The men mind him then, too; but he has to be waked up
first. I know how she feels. She's bound the _Eagle_ shall come out
on time!"
Even Jack did not appreciate how responsibility was waking up Mary
Ogden, or how much older she felt than when she left Crofield; but he
had an idea that she was taller, and that her eyes had become darker.
Mr. Bones, the man of all work in the front office below, was of the
opinion that she was very tall, and that her eyes were very black, and
that he did not care to go up-stairs again; for he had blundered into
the sanctum, supposing that Mr. Murdoch was there, and remarking as he
came:
"Sa-ay, that there underdone gawk that helps edit the _Inquirer_, he
was jist in, lookin' for--yes, ma'am! Beg pardon, ma'am! I'm only
Bones--"
"What did the gentleman want, Mr. Bones?" asked Mary, with much
dignity. "Mr. Murdoch is at home. He is ill. Is it anything I can
attend to?"
"Oh, no, ma'am; nothing, ma'am. He's a blower. We don't mind him,
ma'am. I'll go down right away, ma'am. I'll see Mr. Black, ma'am.
Thank you, ma'am."
He withdrew with many bows; and while down-stairs he saw Jack, and he
not only saw, but felt, that something very new and queer had happened
to the Mertonville _Eagle_.
Both Mary and Jack were aware that there was a rival newspaper, but it
had not occurred to them that they were at all interested in the
_Inquirer_, or in its editors, beyond the fact that both papers were
published on Thursdays, and that the _Eagle_ was the larger.
The printers worked fast that day, as if something spurred them on, and
Mr. Black was almost bright when he reported to Mary how much they had
done during the day.
"The new boy's the best 'devil' we ever had, ma'am," said he. "Please
say to Mr. Murdoch we'd better keep him."
"Thank you, Mr. Black," said she. "I hope Mr. Murdoch will soon be
well."
He stumped away, and it seemed to her as if her dignity barely lasted
until she and Jack found themselves in Mr. Murdoch's garden, on their
way home. It broke completely down as they were going between the
sweet-corn and the tomatoes, and there they both stopped and laughed
heartily.
"But, Molly," Jack exclaimed, when he recovered his breath, "we'll have
to print the liveliest kind of an _Eagle_, or the _Inquirer_ will get
ahead of us. I'm going out, after supper, all over town, to pick up
news. If I can only find some boys I know here, they could tell me a
lot of good items. The boys know more of what's going on than anybody."
"I'd like to go with you," said Mary. "Stir around and find out all
you can."
"I know what to do," said Jack, with energy, and if he had really
undertaken to do all he proceeded to tell her, it would have kept him
out all night.