compositors, too, and your three girls are one too
many. Two are sisters, and can set all the type very easily. I recommend
that you send the other back to New York."

They considered this advice seriously.

"I think Mr. Smith is right," observed Patsy. "The girls have not seemed
busy, at all, and spend most of their time laughing and talking
together."

"It will cut down expenses a lot," said Beth, "and I'm sure we ought to
be able to run this paper more economically than we have been doing."

Uncle John looked at the man thoughtfully.

"Where did you learn the printing business?" he asked.

"I--I don't know, sir."

"What offices have you worked in?"

"I cannot tell you that, sir."

"You seem to answer all my questions with the statement that you 'don't
know,'" asserted Mr. Merrick, with an annoyed frown. "Is there any
reason you should refuse to tell us of your former life?"

"None whatever, sir."

"Who are you, Smith?"

"I--I don't know, sir."

Mr. Merrick was getting provoked.

"This obstinacy is not likely to win our confidence," he said. "Under
the circumstances I think we ought to know something more about you,
before we allow you to undertake so much responsibility. You seem a
bright, able young man, and I've no doubt you understand the work you're
about to undertake, but if we have no knowledge of your antecedents you
may cause us considerable future trouble."

Smith bowed his head and his cheeks flamed red.

"I have no knowledge of my antecedents to confide to you, sir," he said
in a low voice.

Uncle John sighed regretfully and turned away, but Patsy looked at the
man with new interest.

"Won't you please explain that a little more fully?" she gently
inquired.

"I am quite willing to tell all I know," said he; "but that is very
little, I assure you. Two years ago last May, on the morning of
Thursday, the twenty-second, I awoke to find myself lying in a ditch
beside a road. Of my life previous to that time I have no knowledge
whatever."

The three girls regarded him with startled eyes. Uncle John turned from
the window to examine the young man with new interest.

"Were you injured?" he asked.

"My right ankle was sprained and I had a cut under my left eye--you can
see the scar still."

"You have no idea how you came there?"

"Not the slightest. I did not recognize the surrounding country; I had
no clear impression as to who I was. There was a farmhouse a quarter of
a mile awa