"What!" The lad was almost speechless with astonishment. "I say," repeated Paul earnestly, "what's the matter with your father printing the _March Hare_? He prints the _Echo_. Don't you believe he'd print our paper too?" Melville was plainly disconcerted. "I--I--don't know," he managed to stammer uneasily. "You see, the _Echo_ office is such a darn busy place. My father is driven most to death. Besides, we couldn't pay much. It wouldn't be worth the bother to the _Echo_." "Maybe not," said Paul. "But don't you think if your father knew we were trying to run a decent paper he might like to help us out? Who knows but some of us may become distinguished journalists when we grow up? There may be real geniuses in our midst--celebrities." "Great Scott, Paul, but you have got a wily tongue! You've kissed the Blarney Stone if ever man has!" But Paul was not to be cajoled from his purpose. "Won't you put it up to your Pater when you go home, Cart?" "_I_ ask him!" exclaimed Melville, drawing back a step or two. "I couldn't, Kip. Don't put me in such a hole. I wouldn't dare. Straight goods, I wouldn't. You don't know my dad. Why, he wouldn't even hear me out. He'd say at the outset that it was all rot and that he couldn't be bothered with such a scheme." "You absolutely refuse to ask him?" Melville turned a wretched face toward Paul. "I'd do most anything for you, Kip," he said miserably. "You know that. But I couldn't ask favors of my father for you or anybody else. He isn't like other people. I'd go to any one else in a minute. But Father's so--well, it would just take more nerve than I've got. He's all right, though. Don't think he isn't. It's only that he's pretty stiff. I'm afraid of him; straight goods, I am." Paul nodded. "I see." There was an awkward pause. "Would you have any objection to somebody else going to him?" "You?" "Possibly." "Not the least in the world," Melville declared. "I don't see why you shouldn't if you want to take a chance. You'll have no luck, though." "He couldn't any more than kick me out." "He'll do that all right!" Melville exclaimed, with a grin. "What if he does?" asked the editor-in-chief with a shrug of his shoulders. "Well, if you don't mind being turned down and swept out of the office before your mouth is fairly open, go ahead." "I shan't go to the office," responded Paul deliberately. "I shall go around to the house." "Good heavens!" "Why not?" "Well, I don't know why--only it makes Father as mad as hops to be disturbed about business after he gets home." "I'm not supposed to know that, am I?" "N--o." "Then I shall come to the house," reiterated Paul firmly. "Your father will have more leisure there and I think he will be more likely to listen." "He won't listen to you anywhere." "We'll see whether he will or not," said Paul. "At least I can make my try and convince myself." "It'll be no use, Kip," persisted Melville. "I hate to have you disappointed, old chap."