At the noon-hour they shared their lunch, and Mr. Opp, firm in the authority invested in him by Miss Jim, demanded that Nick should drink his milk, and recline at length upon the office bench for twenty minutes. It was with great difficulty that Nick was persuaded to submit to this transferred coddling; but he evidently realized that insubordination at the start of his career would be fatal, and, moreover, his limbs ached and his hands trembled. It was in the intimacy of this, their first, staff meal, that they discussed the policy of the paper. "Of course," said Mr. Opp, "we have got a vast undertaking in front of us. For the next few months we won't scarcely have time to draw a natural breath. I am going to put every faculty I own on to making 'The Opp Eagle' a fine paper. I expect to get here at seven o'clock A.M., and continue to pursue my work as far into the midnight hours as may need be. Nothing in the way of pleasure or anything else is going to pervert my attention. Of course you understand that my mind will be taken up with the larger issues of things, and I'll have to risk a dependence on you to attend to the smaller details." "All right," said Nick, gratefully; "you won't be sorry you trusted me, Mr. Opp. I'll do my level best. When will we get out the first issue?" "Well--er--the truth is," said Mr. Opp, "I haven't, as you might say, accumulated sufficient of material as yet. You see, I have a great many irons in the fire, and besides opening up this office, I am the president of a company that's just bought up twenty acres of ground around here. The biggest oil proposition--" "Yes, sir," interrupted Nick; "but don't you think we could get started in two weeks, with the ads and the contributors' letters from other counties, and a story or two I could run in, and your editorial page?" "I've got two advertisements," said Mr. Opp; "but I don't intend to rest content until every man in the Cove has got a card in. Now, about these contributors from other counties?" "I can manage that," said Nick. "I'll write to some girl or fellow I know in the different towns, and ask them to give me a weekly letter. They sign themselves 'Gipsy' or 'Fairy' or 'Big Injun' or something like that, and tell what's doing in their neighborhood. We'll have to fix the letters up some, but they help fill in like everything." Mr. Opp's spirits rose at this capable cooeperation. "You--er--like the name?" he asked. "'The Opp Eagle'?" said Nick. "Bully!" Such unqualified approval went to Mr. Opp's head, and he rashly broke through the dignity that should hedge about an editor. "I don't mind reading you some of my editorial," he said urbanely; "it's the result of considerable labor."