The boys ascended at once to Bobby's room. Investigation of the fonts showed that the firm possessed the proper type. Bobby set up the matter in the composing stick--and promptly pied it when he attempted to move it to the chase. He had forgotten to put a lead in first, so there was nothing to bind the top line. Redistribution and rectification of the error were in order. It took a good half-hour to get the type properly arranged in the chase. When single letters did not drop through from the middle, the ends of the lines fell away, and then, try as they would, the boys were unable to lock the stickful in the chase. Either it would not bind, or it warped out or in so that even without trial it could be seen that a clear impression was manifestly impossible. These and other mechanical difficulties occupied them until noon. Johnny was wild-eyed and nervous. "Why, we haven't even started to print!" he cried, "We'll never get a job done at this rate! I don't believe the old press is any good, anyhow!" "Yes, it is," insisted Bobby doggedly. "We'll get it yet." He hardly finished his lunch, so eager was he to be back at the problem. Johnny did not come until after two o'clock, and then stood his hands in his pockets, surveying his absorbed partner with some disgust. "Well," said he, "is the old thing working yet?" Bobby looked up absorbedly. "She's going to in just a second--you wait," he muttered. A moment later he lifted the locked form in triumph. It held together and it was flat. Immediately Johnny's nearly extinct enthusiasm flamed up. "Stick her in!" he cried. "Come on, we can show Papa a sample to-night. How many an hour do you suppose we can print on her, Bobby?" "I don't know," replied Bobby. They inserted the form, slipped a blank envelope in the corner and were ready for the first trial. "It won't be even on the paper," said Bobby, "but we can fix that later." He pulled down and back the long lever and the two heads bumped together over the result. One side of the legend was very heavy and black and clear, but the other was almost invisible. "Oh, snakes!" cried Johnny in disappointment. "Oh, that's all right," reasoned Bobby out of his experience with the toy press. "All it needs is paper underneath." But paper underneath proved inadequate. It was impossible with paper to establish the nice gradation necessary to equalize the pressure. And then, also, too much paper made too deep an impression. At the failure of this tried expedient even Bobby's patience ran short for the time being. "Come on over to my house," suggested Johnny crossly. "The crowd's coming. I got boxing gloves for Christmas too, but I bet they're no good either. I bet they rip first thing." Sore at heart and in glum silence the two marched around the corner to the Englishes'.