When he reached the editor's house, Jack noticed that the house was on the same square with the block of wooden buildings containing the _Eagle_ office, and that the editor could go to his work through his own garden, if he chose, instead of around by the street. He was again welcomed by Mrs. Murdoch, and then led at once into Mr. Murdoch's room, where the editor was in bed, groaning and complaining in a way that indicated much distress. "I'm very sorry you're sick, Mr. Murdoch," said Jack. "Thank you, Jack. It's just my luck. It's the very worst time for me to be on the sick-list. Nobody to get out the _Eagle_. Lost my 'devil' to-day, too!" "Lost your 'devil'?" exclaimed Jack. "Yes," said Mr. Murdoch in despair. "No 'devil'! No editor! Nobody but a wooden foreman and a pair of lead-headed type-stickers. The man that does the mailing has more than he can do, too. There won't be any _Eagle_ this week, and perhaps none next week. Plenty of 'copy' nearly ready, too. It's too bad!" [Illustration: _"There won't be any Eagle this week."_] "You needn't feel so discouraged," said Jack, deeply touched by the distress of the groaning editor. "Molly and I know what to do. She can manage the copy, just as she did for the _Standard_ once. So can I. We'll go right to work." "Oh, yes, I'd forgotten," said Mr. Murdoch. "You've worked a while at printing. I'm willing you should see what you can do. I'd like to speak to Mary. I'm sorry to say that you'll have to sleep in the office, Jack, for we've only one spare room in this nutshell of a house." "I don't mind that," said Jack. "I hope I'll be out in a day or so," added the editor. "But, Jack, the press is run by a pony steam-engine, and that foreman couldn't run it to save his life," he added hopelessly. "Why, it's nothing to do," exclaimed Jack. "I've helped run an engine for a steam thrashing-machine. Don't you be worried about the engine." Mr. Murdoch was able to be up a little while in the evening, and Mary came in to see him. From what he said to her, it seemed as if there was really very little to do in editing the remainder of the next number of the _Eagle_. "I'm so glad you're here," said Mrs. Murdoch, when Mary came out to supper. "I never read a newspaper myself, and I don't know the first thing about putting one together. It's too bad that you should be bothered with it though." "Why, Mrs. Murdoch," exclaimed Mary, laughing, "I shall be delighted. I'd rather do it than not." The truth was that it was not easy for either Mary or her brother to be very sorry that Mr. Murdoch was not able to work. They did not feel anxious about him, for his wife had told them it was not a serious attack, and they enjoyed the prospect of editing the newspaper.