The old woman sighed: "I hope you'll be careful not to say things in the street to stir up strife," she said. "Strife," the old man repeated with a laugh. "Yes, strife," she insisted. "There are any number of men that would like to get him into trouble, just to please Cousin McElwin." "I think I can take care of myself," said Lyman, putting on his hat. CHAPTER VIII. SUPPRESSING THE NEWS. Lyman found Warren almost in hysterical glee, treading air up and down the office. "Ho!" he cried, as the bridegroom entered the office. "Let me get hold of you. Ho!" he shouted louder as he shook Lyman's hand. "Maybe we haven't got the situation by the forelock. Who ever heard of such a thing! Shake again. I didn't hear about it till awhile ago, and then I took a fit and caught another one from it. Glad I held the paper in line with the Grangers." "Let me sit down," said Lyman. "That's exactly what you must do, and write like a horse trotting. I've left two columns open, and I want you to spread yourself." "Something important?" Lyman asked, sitting down. "Now, what do you want to talk that way for? It's a world beater." "What do you mean?" "The marriage, don't you understand? Make two columns out of it and I'll get fifty subscribers before night. Hurry up, I've got a tramp printer waiting for the copy." "Nonsense," said Lyman, lighting a cigar. "You wouldn't expect a man to write up his own marriage, any more than you would his own funeral." "If his funeral was as extraordinary as this marriage I would. Finest piece of news I ever heard of. Never heard of anything to beat it; and we'll make the hair rise up in this community like bristles on a dog. Go ahead with it. The tramp's waiting and I am paying him time." "Sit down," said Lyman. Warren did so reluctantly. Lyman put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "My dear boy," said he, "don't you know it would be very indelicate, not to say vulgar, for us to print a sensational account of that marriage? For a day it might be a news victory, but afterwards it would be a humiliating defeat. To tell you the truth, I am about ready to confess my regret that it happened." He was silent for a moment, as if to take note of Warren's hard breathing. "And if McElwin had come to me more as a man and less like a mad bull I would have agreed to sign the divorce petition. But I don't like to be driven. I am sorry to disappoint you; it is hard to throw cold water on your warm enthusiasm, but I won't write a word about the marriage." Tears gathered in Warren's eyes. "This life's not worth living," he said. "Nothing but disappointment all the time. No hope; everything dead." "But you shouldn't hang a hope on a poisonous weed, my boy." "No matter where I hang one, it falls to the dust. But say, you are not going to sign that paper, are you?" "Not at present. I am man enough to be stubborn."