t can you tell how it is all coming out!

I should be tempted to say that I arrived at the printing-office at a
psychological moment if it were not for the fact, as I soon learned,
that most of the moments for several months past had been equally
psychological. Indeed, before I had fairly got acquainted with the
printing-office, and with Fergus and Anthy, and was expecting
momentarily to hear the Captain coming in, crying "Fudge," the story
moved on, as majestically as if I hadn't appeared at all.

In a story or a play you can set your stage for your crises, and lead up
to the entrance of your villain with appropriate literary flourishes.
You can artfully let us know beforehand that it is really a villain who
is about to intrude upon your paradise, and dim the voice of the canary
and frighten the cat. But in real life, events and crises have a
disconcerting way of backing into your narrative before ever you are
ready for them, and at the most awkward and inconvenient times.

It was thus that Bucky Penrose came into the printing-office that spring
morning. He was struggling with a small but weighty box filled with
literature in metal. When he had got it well inside, he deposited it,
not at all gently, on a stool, took off his cap, and wiped his forehead.

"Whew, it's hot this morning!" said Bucky.

Now, I dislike to speak of Bucky as a villain, for of all the people in
Hempfield Bucky certainly least looks the part. He has towy hair and
mild, light-blue eyes. He wears a visor cap and carries a long, flat
book which he flaps open for you to sign. He is the expressman.

I could see, however, from the look in Anthy's face that Bucky was
really a hardened villain. And Bucky himself seemed to know it and feel
it, for it was in an apologetic voice that he said:

"The plates is a dollar this week, Miss Doane, and the insides is seven
and a half, C. O. D."

Anthy's hand went to the little leather bag she carried.

"I--I didn't bring up the insides in this load. Mr. Peters said--the
Captain----"

Anthy had taken a step forward, and there was a look of sudden
determination in her face.

"Never mind, Bucky, about the Captain----"

"Well, I thought----"

He was thinking just what the whole of Hempfield was thinking, and dared
not say. The colour came up in Anthy's cheeks, but she only lifted her
chin the higher.

"Tell Mr. Peters to send up the insides at once, Bucky, _at once_. The
money will be ready for him."