The policies suggested by Mr. Opp, the editor, were promptly acted upon by Mr. Opp, the citizen. So indignant did he become when he read his own editorials that nothing short of immediate action was to be considered. He arranged a reform party and appointed himself leader. Mat Lucas, he made Superintendent of Streets; Mr. Gallop, chairman of the Committee on City Lights. In fact, he formed enough committees to manage a Presidential campaign. The attitude of the town toward him was that of a large lump of dough to a small cake of yeast. It was willing to be raised, but doubtful of the motive power. "I'd feel surer," said Jimmy Fallows, "if his intellect was the standard size. It appears so big to him he can't get his language ready-made; he has to have it made to order." But since the successful management of the oil-wells, Mr. Opp's opinion was more and more considered. In the course of a short time the office of "The Opp Eagle" became the hub about which the township revolved. One afternoon in March the editor was sitting before his deal table, apparently in the most violent throes of editorial composition. Nick, who was impatiently waiting for copy, had not dared to speak for an hour, for fear of slipping a cog in the intricate machinery of creation. The constant struggle to supply "The Opp Eagle" with sufficient material to enable it to fly every Thursday was telling upon the staff; he was becoming irritable. "Well?" he said impatiently, as Mr. Opp finished the tenth page and gathered the large sheets into his hand. "Yes, yes, to be sure," said Mr. Opp, guiltily; "I am at your disposal. Just finishing a little private correspondence of a personal nature that couldn't wait over." "Ain't that copy?" demanded Nick, fixing him with an indignant eye. "Well, no," said Mr. Opp, uneasily. "The fact is, I haven't been able to accomplish any regular editorial this week. Unusual pressure of outside business and--er--" "How long is she going to stay down in Coreyville?" Nick asked, with a contemptuous curl of his lip. Mr. Opp paused in the act of addressing the envelop, and gave Nick a look that was designed to scorch. "May I inquire to who you refer?" he asked with dignity. Nick's eyes dropped, and he shuffled his feet. "I just wanted to put it in the paper. We got to fill up with something." "Well," said Mr. Opp, slightly conciliated, "you can mention that she has gone back to attend the spring term at the Young Ladies' Seminary." "Gone back to school again?" exclaimed Nick, unable to control his curiosity. "What for?" "To attend the spring term," repeated Mr. Opp, guardedly. Then he added in a burst of confidence: "Nick, has it ever occurred to you that Mrs. Gusty was what you might term a peculiar woman?" But Nick was not interested in the psychological idiosyncrasies of the Gusty family. "The Opp Eagle" was crying for food, and Nick would have sacrificed himself and his chief to fill the vacancy.