The _Declarator_ itself was an example of a good idea gone wrong through stress of necessity. The sheet was small, four pages, often filled with plate matter, and the original matter was set in the most amateurish manner. The old type from which it was set was worn until some of the letters were mere smudges of black. From time to time old P. K., being in funds, would buy a few pounds of cast-off type from the _Eagle_, and this mixed with his worn supply, gave the paper a bizarre, hit-and-miss appearance. Old P. K. did not bother about reading proof. The paper came out with all the errors, with letters of one font mixed with letters of another font, and with some paragraphs set in large type and some in small. It was the column headed “Briefs,” however, that tagged the _Declarator_. It was known that old P. K. had come from somewhere in Kansas, and it was understood that he had known John Brown, the famous John Brown, whose soul goes marching on in the ballad. Welsh came to Riverbank in the years following the war, and started his little paper in opposition to the _Eagle_, which was then scarcely larger. Riverbank was once more Democratic. The _Declarator_ was violently Republican and violently pro-negro. Across the first page, just under the title, P. K. ran the motto “All men--white or black--are equal.” He knew his Bible by heart and scattered Biblical quotations through his pages, each chosen because of its sting. There were but a dozen or twenty negroes in the town, and the negro question did not worry anyone, and P. K. Welsh's loyalty was an asset. Although the Republicans were in a helpless minority they were glad to have an organ, and the _Declarator_ did fairly well. Time passed and the _Eagle_ blossomed from a weekly into a daily. It contracted for telegraph news of the outside world. A group of Republicans started the _Daily Star_, staunchly but sanely Republican, and the _Declarator_ slumped into the position of an unneeded, unwanted sheet. A few of the old-time, grit-incrusted Republicans, who believed every Democrat was destined for hell fire, still took the _Declarator_; the other subscribers dropped it. Old P. K. grew bitter; his subscription book became his list of friends and enemies. Those whose names once appeared on the list, or had ever appeared on it, and who canceled their subscriptions, became the recipients of his hatred. Welsh brooded over them and waited. Sooner or later he spat venom at them in the column headed “Briefs.”