vents were like moving pictures, which
he enjoyed hotly, which amused him uproariously, or which bored him
desperately.

As fate would have it--Ed Smith's fate--Nort's opportunity came in
August. It was the occasion, as I remember it, of some outing of the
State Editors' Association, and Ed planned to be absent for two weeks.
He evidently felt that he could now entrust the destinies of the _Star_
for a brief time to his associates. But he tore himself away with
evident reluctance. How could the _Star_ be safely left to the mercies
of the old Captain (who had been its titular editor for thirty years),
or to Anthy (who was merely its owner), to say nothing of such
disturbing elements as Fergus and Nort and me?

A deep sigh of relief seemed to rise from the office of the _Star_. One
fancied that Dick, the canary, chirped more cheerfully, and Fergus swore
that he found Tom, the cat, sleeping in the editorial chair within three
hours after Ed departed. As for the Captain, he came in thumping his
cane and clearing his throat with something of his old-time energy, and
even Anthy wore a different look.

I can see Nort yet leaning against the imposing stone, one leg crossed
over the other, his bare inky arms folded negligently, his thick hair
tumbling about on his head--and amusement darkening in his eyes. Fergus
was cocked up on a stool by the cases; the Captain, who had just
finished an editorial further pulverizing the fragments of William J.
Bryan, was leaning back in his chair comfortably smoking his pipe; and
Anthy, having slipped off her apron, was preparing to go home for
supper.

[Illustration: "_Well!" exclaimed Nort, drawing a long breath, "I never
imagined it would feel so good to be orfunts_"]

"Well!" exclaimed Nort, drawing a long breath, "I never imagined it
would feel so good to be orfunts."

The laugh which followed this remark was as irresistible as it was
spontaneous. It expressed exactly what we all felt. I glanced at Anthy.
She evidently considered it her duty to frown upon such disloyalty, but
couldn't. She was laughing, too. It seemed to break the tension and
bring us all close together.

It will be seen from this how Nort had been growing since he came with
us, a mere vagabond, to help Fergus. He had become one of us.

"Don't see how we're ever goin' to get out a paper," remarked Fergus.

This bit of irony was lost on the old Captain.

"Fudge!" he exclaimed indignantly. "Get out a paper! We w