with an assumption of extreme modesty, which, however, hardly suited
his usual bold demeanor.

Jim had all a reporter's "nerve," and could coolly face a raging
subscriber who had dropped in to ask to have his subscription closed
because of a certain offensive article in the last issue--yes, and
likely as not Jim could soothe the ruffled feathers of the enraged
man, show him how he had really been paid a compliment, and finally
bow him out of the office with another year's subscription left in
the shape of a dollar and a half in good money.

"We've fairly _devoured_ it, Jim," frankly admitted Thad. "Why, I
can repeat it off-hand right now, I've read it so often. And Jim,
I want to say that it's as clever a piece of work as I ever got
hold of. That terrible Texan stands out as clear as print. Everybody
in Scranton will be rubbering all today, thinking they can see
Marshal Hastings in each stranger in town. I congratulate you,
Jim; you're a peach at your trade, believe me."

Of course that sort of "gush" just tickled Jim immensely. He tried
not to show it, but his eyes were twinkling with gratified vanity.
It was fine to hear other people complimenting him so warmly, even
though they were but boys from Scranton High. Praise is acceptable
even from the lowly; and Jim made queer motions with his lips as
though he might be rolling the sweet morsel over his tongue.

"Glad you like it, fellows," he said, in as unconcerned a voice as
he could muster to the fore. "Course there was some hurry, because
I'm rushed for time, and I could have done a heap better if I really
tried to lay myself out. But I guess that ought to fill the bill,
and give Brother Lu a little scare, eh, Thad, old scout?"

"I'm expecting he'll shake himself out of his shoes, or rather
Brother-in-law Andrew's footwear," exclaimed the eager Thad. "But
say, Jim, how about your going out with us, and watching him skip!"

Jim looked serious.

"H'm! got an awful bunch of work to do, fellows, this morning, as
well as hold the editorial desk down for Mr. Hanks; but perhaps the
sooner we get that little job over with the better. Yes, I'll call
Philip, our boy here, who's rubbing the ink off his face and hands,
and we'll all start out to finish Brother Lu's career in Scranton."

CHAPTER XI

SOMETHING GOES WRONG

It was in this confident mood that they made their start. Philip had
the copy of the _Courier_, which Jim had deftly folded so th