on't you?"

Mr. Opp glanced up. A skeleton of a boy, with a shaven head, was peering
eagerly past him into the office, his keen, ferret-like eyes devouring
every detail of the printing-presses.

"He knows the business," went on Miss Jim, anxiously pulling at the
fingers of her gloves. "He's been in it over a year at Coreyville. He
wants to go back; but I ain't willing till he gets stronger. He ain't
been up but two weeks."

Mr. Opp turned impressively in his revolving chair, the one luxury which
he had deemed indispensable, and doubtfully surveyed the applicant. The
mere suggestion of his leaning upon this broken reed seemed ridiculous;
yet the boy's thin, sallow face, and Miss Jim's imploring eyes, caused
him to hesitate.

"Well, you see," he said, with thumbs together and his lips pursed,
after the manner of the various employers before whom he had stood in
the past, "we are just making a preliminary start, and we haven't
engaged our staff yet. I am a business man and a careful one. I don't
feel justified in going to no extra expense until 'The Opp Eagle' is, in
a way, on its feet."

"Oh, that's all right," said the boy; "I'll work a month for nothing.
Lots of fellows do that on the big papers."

Miss Jim plucked warningly at his sleeve, and Mr. Opp, seeing that
Nick's enthusiasm had led him beyond his depth, went gallantly to the
rescue.

"Not at all," he said hastily; "that ain't my policy. I think I might
contrive to pay you a small, reasonable sum down, and increase it in
ratio as the paper become more prosperous. Don't you think you better
sit down?"

"No, sir; I'm all right," said the boy, impatiently. "I can do 'most
anything about a paper, setting type, printing, reporting, collecting,
'most anything you put me at."

Such timely knowledge, in whatever guise it came, seemed Heaven-sent.
Mr. Opp gave a sigh of satisfaction.

"If you feel that you can't do any better than accepting the small sum
that just at present I'll have to offer you, why, I think we can come to
some arrangement."

"That's mighty nice in you," said Miss Jim, jerking her head forward in
order to correct an undue backward gravitation of her bonnet. "If ever
you want a crayon portrait, made from life or enlarged from a
photograph, I'll make you a special price on it. I'm just taking this
here one home to Mrs. Gusty; she had it done for Guin-never's birthday."

Miss Jim removed the wrappings and disclosed a portrait of Miss
Guin