leaned up against the mantelpiece, one
elbow resting on the marble and one arm free.

"Now, then, what is it?" he asked.

"We are contemplating a venture," said Denis Quirk--"a newspaper in
opposition to 'The Observer.'"

Dr. Marsh shook his head emphatically, frowning the while at Denis
Quirk.

"Mental, decidedly mental," he growled. "You have delusions."

Denis Quirk laughed uproariously at this remark. The doctor was a man
after his own heart.

"You don't give it a chance?" he asked.

"Not a thousand to one hope! What do we want with two papers?"

"Precisely!" cried Denis Quirk. "But supposing we were to shoulder 'The
Observer' out of Grey Town?"

"Is Cairns a mutineer?" asked the doctor.

"I am a cast-off. Old Ebenezer Brown has given me marching orders, and I
am looking for a new master," replied Cairns.

Dr. Marsh's face brightened, for he had a consuming hatred for the owner
of 'The Observer.' Even the faintest hope of wounding Ebenezer Brown was
a reason for joy to him.

"It might be done?" he said. "Are you a newspaper man?" he asked Denis
Quirk.

"In the past, and, I hope, in the future. I am tempted to risk a battle
with 'The Observer.' With Cairns and O'Connor, myself, and one or two
others--yourself, for instance, doctor--we might make the old rag
gallop, possibly even beat it, eh?"

"Stop a minute. Do any of you drink?" asked the doctor.

The other men shook their heads.

"Too early," said Cairns. "If we started now, where would we end?"

"Very well, then. Let me have some details before I decide. Who is to
finance the paper?"

"I shall do that, with your help, if you like, leaving the public to pay
us principal and interest when we have destroyed Ebenezer Brown and his
organ," said Denis Quirk.

"Cairns will be editor, I suppose?" asked the doctor.

"Cairns editor, O'Connor a reporter, myself manager, and Tim O'Neill
printer's devil."

"Tim O'Neill!" laughed the doctor. "Where did you discover that
rapscallion? Molly Healy introduced you to him, I swear."

"I forgot Molly Healy in mentioning the staff. She is to write a series
of articles dealing with the seamy side of Grey Town life and her
methods of reforming the riff-raff. Yes; it was she who brought Tim to
me. 'Here you are!' she cried. 'Tis the wickedest boy in Grey Town. Make
him something useful, and you will be doing a public service to me and
to the town and district.' I engaged him as printer's devil on that
recomm