"All right, Miss Doane, all right--but I thought----"

"Don't think," growled MacGregor, who had been standing aside and saying
nothing; "it ain't your calling."

Bucky turned fiercely to reply, but Anthy suddenly laid a hand on his
arm.

"In the future, Bucky, don't go to the Captain at all. Come straight to
me."

"'Tain't my fault," grumbled Bucky; "I got to collect."

"Certainly you have," said Anthy; "I'll pay you for the box, and you can
bring the insides later. Tell Mr. Peters."

It was magnificent the way she carried it off; and when at last the
villain had departed, she turned to us with a face slightly flushed, but
in perfect control. I had a sudden curious lift of the heart: for there
is nothing that so stirs the soul of a man as the sight of courage in a
woman. If I had been interested before, I was doubly interested now. It
had been one of those lightning-flash incidents which let us more deeply
into the real life of men than pages of history. I felt that this
printing-office was sacred ground, the scene of battle and trial and
commotion.

At the same time the whole situation struck me with a sudden sense of
amusement and surprise. Back somewhere in my consciousness I had always
felt something of awe for the Power of the Press. A kind of
institutional sanctity seemed to hedge it round about, so that it spoke
with the thunder of authority--and here was the Press quite unable to
pay the expressman seven dollars and a half! I think I must have
entertained much the same view that Captain Doane so delights to express
upon any favourable (or unfavourable) public occasion.

How often have I heard him since that memorable time! He does it very
impressively, with his right thumb hooked into the buttons of his vest,
his beautiful shaggy head thrown well back, and his somewhat shabby
frock coat drawn up on the left side--for it is his left hand that he
holds so tremulously and impressively aloft--that mighty director of
public opinion, that repository of freedom, that palladium of democracy,
that ruler of the nation. Whenever I hear the Captain, I can never think
of the press without trembling a little at its incredible prescience,
without being awed by the way in which it soaks up the life of the
community and, having held it for a moment in solution, distributes
it--I quote the Captain--"like dew" (sometimes manna) "upon the
populace, iridescent with the glories of the printed word." Nor do I
ever hear him