“I don’t quite catch on,” returned Bart.
“The printing and publishing business,” put in Darry. “We have got the money together for a nice little plant, and father and mother are willing that we shall go ahead. Some day you’ll see us running a regular newspaper.”
“Well, I wish you good luck—you certainly deserve it,” answered the young express agent, warmly.
“There is only one drawback,” resumed Bob. “We’ll have to give up helping you.”
“Don’t let that bother you. I’ll find somebody else. Say, it will be fine to start a regular newspaper,” went on Bart. “I guess you’d wake some of the old-timers up—they are so moss-eaten. This town needs a bright, up-to-date sheet.”
“We are going to push the printing and publishing business all we can,” answered Darry, earnestly. How he and his brother carried out their project I shall relate in another story, to be called, “Working Hard to Win.” It was no light undertaking, but the boys entered into it with a vigor that was bound to command success.
“You see, father can help us a good deal,” said Bob. “He used to be an editor, you know. And more than that, mother can make us whatever pictures we may need.”
“Oh, you’ll be right in it, I know,” laughed Bart. “When you start your newspaper put me down as the first subscriber. Your subscription money is ready whenever you want it.”
At that moment a messenger appeared.
“Letter for you,” said he to the young express agent, and hurried about his business.
“From the express people,” murmured Bart, tearing open the letter.
As he perused it, such a quick, bright glow flashed into his face and eyes, that the watchful Darry at once surmised that Bart had received a communication out of the ordinary.
“Good news, Bart?” he inquired.
“Read it,” said Bart simply, and quick-witted Darry saw that he was almost too overcome to speak further.
The letter was from Mr. Leslie the superintendent, and contained two paragraphs.
The first stated that from the fifteenth of the coming month Mr. Robert Stirling would resume his position as express agent at Pleasantville, thenceforward made a “Class B” station, at a salary of seventy dollars a month.
The second paragraph requested Mr. Bart Stirling to report at headquarters for assignment to duty at a city office as assistant manager.
Darry Haven reached out and caught the hand of his loyal friend in a warm, glad clasp.
“Capital!” he cried enthusiastically—“in line with your motto, Bart Stirling—higher still!”