em between type and iron
frame which were supposed to hold the type in the form like a vise;
raised it carefully, and there remained on the tin-covered make-up table
about a quarter of a column of the set type. She slammed the form down
in place again, unlocked it with an iron thing she called the key,
inserted more leads and slugs between the lines of type, jamming them
closer together.

"If you need more leads or slugs between the lines," she said, "here's
some condensed milk cans--just take these"--and she held up a pair of
long shears--"and cut you some leads." She suited the words to action;
took the mallet and smoothed the edges of the oblong she had cut. I
watched her ink the roller, run it over the form on the press, put the
blank paper on, give the press a few turns, and behold! the printed
page.

With this somewhat limited training I proceeded to get out the paper. I
knew absolutely nothing about mechanics and it was a hard job. Then a
belated thought struck me. Perhaps I should ask the owner for the job,
or at any rate inform him that I had taken it. From _The Press_ I found
the publisher's name was E. L. Senn. I learned that he owned a long
string of proof sheets. A monopoly out here on the raw prairie. Folks
said he was close as the bark on a tree and heartless as a Wall Street
corporation.

With this encouragement I decided to ask for $10 a week. Myrtle had
received only $8. Of course, I had no experience as a printer, but I
explained to Mr. Senn my plans for pushing the business so that he would
be able to afford that extra $2 a week. Of my experience as a typesetter
I wisely said nothing.

While I waited for the owner's reply I went on getting out the paper.
There was no holding up an issue of a "proof" newspaper; like the show,
it must go on! The Department of the Interior running our public lands
saw to that. Friday's paper might come out the following Monday or
Wednesday, but it must come out. That word "consecutive" in the proof
law was an awful stickler. But everyone who had hung around the print
shop watching Myrtle work, took a hand helping me.

When the publisher replied to my letter he asked me about my experience
as a printer and added: "I don't know whether you are worth $2 a week
more than Myrtle or not, but anybody that has the nerve you exhibit in
asking for it no doubt deserves it. Moreover, I like to flatter such
youthful vanity."

He called it nerve, and I had thought I was as re