Mr. Anderson wrote, "to decline your proposals, but, I
have immediate need of the whole sum which I ask for the paper. If I
cannot obtain it, I shall come back to Centreville, though I would
prefer to remain here."

Upon the receipt of this letter, Ferguson gave up his work for the
forenoon, and made a tour of the Village, calling upon all who he
thought were likely to have money to lend. He had small expectation
of success, but felt that he ought to try everywhere before giving up
so good a chance.

While he was absent, Harry had a welcome visitor. It was no other
than Professor Henderson, the magician, in whose employ he had spent
three months some years before, as related in "Bound to Rise."

"Take a seat, professor," said Harry, cordially. "I am delighted to
see you."

"How you have grown, Harry!" said the professor. "Why, I should
hardly have known you!"

"We haven't met since I left you to enter this office."

"No; it is nearly three years. How do you like the business?"

"Very much indeed."

"Are you doing well?"

"I receive fifteen dollars a week."

"That is good. What are your prospects for the future?"

"They would be excellent if I had a little more capital."

"I don't see how you need capital, as a journeyman printer."

"I have a chance to buy out the paper."

"But who would edit it?"

"I would."

"You!" said the magician, rather incredulously.

"I have been the editor for the last two months."

"You--a boy!"

"I am nineteen, professor."

"I shouldn't have dreamed of editing a paper at nineteen; or, indeed,
as old as I am now."

Harry laughed.

"You are too modest, professor. Let me show you our last two issues."

The professor took out his glasses, and sat down, not without
considerable curiosity, to read a paper edited by one who only three
years before had been his assistant.

"Did you write this article?" he asked, after a pause, pointing to
the leader in the last issue of the "Gazette."

"Yes, sir."

"Then, by Jove, you can write. Why, it's worthy of a man of twice
your age!"

"Thank you, professor," said Harry, gratified.

"Where did you learn to write?"

Harry gave his old employer some account of his literary experiences,
mentioning his connection with the two Boston weekly papers.

"You ought to be an editor," said the professor. "If you can do as
much at nineteen, you have a bright future before you."

"That depends a little on circumstances. I