In his astonishment Tubal pointed a lean, inky finger at the tip of her nose, and poked it at her twice before he could speak. “You!... _You!_” he said, and then swallowed hard, and felt as if he were unpleasantly suspended between heaven and earth with nothing to do or say. “I,” she answered. Tubal swung his head slowly and glared at Simmy, evidently laying the blame for this dénoûement upon the boy’s shoulders. “Git out of here,” he whispered, hoarsely, “and for Gawd’s sake--_wash your face_.” Simmy vanished, and Tubal, praying for succor, remained, nonplused, speechless for once. “Is that my desk?” asked Miss Lee. “Um!...” Then she won Tubal’s undying devotion at a single stroke. “I presume,” she said, “you are foreman of the composing room.” He nodded dumbly. “You--you look very nice and efficient. I’m glad I’m going to have a man like you to help me.... Is it _very_ hard to run a real newspaper?” “It’s easy. You hain’t got any idea how easy it is. Why, Simmy and me, we done it for two issues, and ’twan’t no chore to speak of!... Where’s that Simmy?... Hey, Simmy!” “He went,” said Miss Lee, “to wash his face.... Now I think I shall go to the hotel. It’s next door, isn’t it?... After I have lunch I’ll come back, and we’ll go to work. You’ll--have to take me in hand, won’t you?... Is this a--a profitable paper?” “By gosh! it will be. We’ll make her the doggonedest paper ’n the state. We’ll----” “Thank _you_,” said Miss Lee. “Right after lunch we’ll start in.” And with that she walked daintily out of the office and turned toward the Commercial House.... Tubal gave a great sigh and leaned on the office railing. “_Has she gone?_” came a whisper from the shop. “You come here. Git in here where I kin talk to you.” “Here I be.... Say, when do we quit?” “Quit? Quit what?” “Our jobs. We was goin’ to. You ’n’ me won’t work for no woman?” “Who said so? Who said anythin’ about quittin’, I’d like to know. Not me.... And say, if I ketch you tryin’ to quit, I’ll skin you alive.... You ’n’ me, we got to stick by that leetle gal, we have.... Foreman of the composin’ room!... By jing!... Perty as a picture.... By jing!” “Say, you gone crazy, or what?” “She’s a-comin’ back right after lunch. Git to work, you. Git this office cleaned up and swept up and dusted up.... Think she kin work amongst this filth.... Git a mop and a pail. We’ll fix up this hole so’s she kin eat off’n the floor if she takes a notion.... Simmy, she’s goin’ to stay and run this here paper. That cunnin’ leetle gal’s goin’ to be our boss.... Goddlemighty!...” CHAPTER II