t keeping other people's money."

"I wasn't talking about you at all. I was talking about myself."

"You'd better not insult me," said Luke, still suspicious.

"I'm not in the habit of insulting anybody."

"I don't believe in people that set themselves up to be so much better
than everybody else."

"Do you mean that for me?" asked Harry, smiling.

"Yes, I do. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing, except to deny that I make any such claims. Shall you come
round to the hall, to-night?"

"Perhaps so."

"Then I shall see you. I must be going now."

He went out, leaving Luke vainly deploring the loss of the five dollars
which he had so foolishly squandered in paying his debt.

CHAPTER XXIX. IN THE PRINTING OFFICE

"Harry," said the professor, after breakfast the next morning, "I find
we must get some more bills printed. You may go round to the office
of the Centreville Gazette, and ask them how soon they can print me a
hundred large bills and a thousand small ones."

"All right, sir. Suppose they can't have them done by the ready to
start?"

"They can send them to me by express."

Harry had never been in a printing office; but he had a great curiosity
to see one ever since he had read the "Life of Benjamin Franklin." If
there was anyone in whose steps he thought he should like to follow, it
was Franklin, and Franklin was a printer.

He had no difficulty in finding the office. It was in the second story
of a building, just at the junction of two roads near the center of the
town, the post office being just underneath. He ascended a staircase,
and saw on the door, at the head of the stairs:

"CENTREVILLE GAZETTE"

He opened the door and entered. He saw a large room, containing a press
at the end, while two young men, with paper caps on their heads, were
standing in their shirt sleeves at upright cases setting type. On one
side there was a very small office partitioned off. Within, a man was
seen seated at a desk, with a pile of exchange papers on the floor,
writing busily. This was Mr. Jotham Anderson publisher and editor of the
Gazette.

"I want to get some printing done," said Harry, looking toward the
journeymen.

"Go to Mr. Anderson," said one, pointing to the office.

Harry went in. The editor looked up as he entered.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"I want to get some printing done."

"For yourself?"

"No; for Professor Henderson."

"I've done jobs for him be