"I guess the Colonel did it," he said. "He put a line in one of the papers last night for a few girls to help him. I suppose this is the result."

"Do you call this a few?" gasped Livingstone.

"Well, of course we couldn't tell just how many would come. That paper must have a good many readers. We don't have to take 'em all, you know."

Livingstone stared at the gathering of the clans helplessly.

"No," he commented; "I should think not." Then a moment later he added thoughtfully: "I suppose all these girls have to work to live. Let's take all of them we can, fellows."

And Van Dorn asked hopelessly:

"How are we going to get up-stairs?"

They worked their way through, at last, to the Colonel's room above. It was filled to the edges, as were the halls and stairways outside. The Colonel was already at his desk--his white hair tossed in every direction and a hunted look in his eyes. About him billowed the eager applicants, crowding and forcing their way toward the sheet of paper upon which he was having each write her name and address, both to show the style and rapidity of penmanship, and as a means of finding the ones selected. The friends watched the proceedings for some moments with interest. The girls regarded them curiously. Some of them whispered to each other and giggled. Van Dorn wedged his way to the Colonel's elbow and said in a subdued voice:

"Well, Colonel, this beats Gettysburg, doesn't it?"

The Colonel affected a great self-possession.

"Oh, this is nothing at all," he laughed. "I've been through this all my life. Once I engaged five hundred girls. I won't be able to get more than a dozen good ones out of this crowd."

"A dozen! I should think you could get a million!"

The Colonel tipped over an ink-bottle to show his superior calmness, and a black-eyed, rosy-cheeked girl jumped back with a tiny scream. The friends made their way to the room above, where, several hours later, Colonel Hazard joined them, somewhat pale and worn. He had sifted out ten good girls, he told them, after careful examination of the throng.

It was learned later that he had locked the doors below as soon as possible to keep out the hordes that continued to come. Indeed, girls came singly and in groups all day. Those engaged were familiarizing themselves with the books in which names were to be entered. On to-morrow the first advertising was to appear. Barrifield, who was temporarily absent from the city in the interest of his employers, had arranged before he started to have the presses going on the papers. The end was in sight.

In fact, answers to their advertis.e.m.e.nts began to come the next afternoon, and the proprietors were much elated. There were only a few, to be sure,--not enough to cover the bottom of the big mail-box,--but they indicated that their offers had been seen and appreciated. Even Perner forgot his former misgivings and rejoiced. The answers were coming. The paper was ready for the press. The long-looked-for hour was at hand.

At dusk, however, came a slight shock.

Colonel Hazard came up with several letters. He remarked, handing them to Perner:

"There are some queer people in the world. Read one or two of those letters aloud."

Perner held one of the communications to the light. It said:

GENTLEMEN: I inclose you twenty good names of people likely to be interested in your paper. Please send me the five dollars as promised without delay. My birthday comes on Sat.u.r.day, and I want it before that time.

Yours hastily, BESSIE GREEN.

"Humph! well named," said Van Dorn, while the others uttered various exclamations. "Well, I'm sorry for Bessie, but I'm afraid she'll be disappointed."

Perner selected another letter.

"This is from a boy," he commented; "his name is Robert Bright. You wouldn't suspect it, however, from his communication.

"GENTLEMEN: Here are ure twentie naims. Now send mi five dollers, and dont be so slo about it or i will have the polese on ure track. I have ben foold one or twise by advertisment fellers but this time i mean to have wat is coming."

The exclamations that followed this possessed an added degree of emphasis. Perner picked up a third letter.

"From a woman," he said.

"GENTLEMEN: I am sending the twenty names, and you don't know how grateful I am or how happy it makes me to be able to earn money for my little family, who are in need of the necessaries of life. I hope you can send me the five dollars to-night, and I am sure Heaven will reward you for your great undertaking."

n.o.body uttered a word for some moments. Then Livingstone said:

"Do you suppose there'll be many letters like that?"

And Van Dorn growled:

"Some people haven't got the sense they were born with. That advertis.e.m.e.nt was as clear as sunlight."

"It was," said Perner; "I wrote it myself."

Nevertheless, they made up the five dollars between them and mailed a check for it on their way to dinner. The next morning there were more answers in the big mail-box. The bottom was quite covered with postal cards containing lists of twenty names each.

Also, there was a letter from the man of the rolled-up sleeves, stating that he was prepared to run some twenty thousand copies of the paper, and would start the press upon receipt of a check for the amount. This was a severe blow, but as the amount was comparatively small it was not fatal. Besides, they had grown somewhat accustomed to such things. They were not even surprised when their landlord, who, with his family, occupied apartments in the rear, came in to demand his rent in the middle of the month--a thing he had never dreamed of doing since the first year of their occupancy. Not that he was at all afraid, he said, but he was only a poor man who sublet to them, and had met with ill fortune. Later, the Colonel came up with still further strange letters, though none so pathetic as the one of the night before.

However, there were other complications. People in small villages were sending lists containing the same names. Some of the lists were almost identical. When Perner realized this he scowled anxiously, and lay down on the couch to think.

"Good heavens! fellows," he exclaimed, "we'll ruin the nation!"

"What's the matter? What do you mean?" asked Van Dorn.

"Why, see here! People will be sending in the same names, and sending each other's names, till they get us so mixed up we can't straighten the thing out in a hundred years! Then they'll accuse us of fraud, and blame each other for a lot of things, too. The result will be that they'll get into a fight until the whole nation is in one immense wrangle. We'll ruin the country! That's what we'll do! We'll ruin the country!"

Perner had arisen and was walking the floor excitedly.

"I tell you, Van, your 'cash for names' scheme is a fallacy! I said so the other day, and I say so all the more now. I'll admit that I believed in it and abetted it at first. It looked like a big thing, and we all thought it was, but it isn't. In the first place, we can't afford it, as I told you before. In the next place, the people don't understand it, and we're going to be deluged with letters like those that came with the first mail. And even if we could afford it, and even if those letters didn't count, we can't afford to disturb the peace of the whole nation by creating hard feelings in every village and hamlet, that will finally end, not only with the utter ruin of our paper, but in riots and rebellion and government interference, if not in one mighty civil war and the total destruction of the whole English-speaking world!"

Perner's old manner--the manner in which he had set forth the scheme on the night of the golden dinner--had returned to him. It had returned, but with a difference: then he had been painting the glories of the plan; now he was depicting its horrors. The ten years' business experience had wallowed through a cloudland of dreams, but had materialized in very harsh daylight at last. As for Van Dorn and Livingstone, they sat gloomily silent. The Colonel was first to express himself. He said:

"I hardly think we need to disturb ourselves so seriously. At the rate the replies are coming I should say that there is no immediate danger of upsetting the universe with our plans. We have received a number, it is true, but unless there is a marked increase to-morrow, I may safely reduce my force of a.s.sistants by one half."

"You don't think, then, we'll get a hundred thousand lists of twenty names each in reply to our 'cash for names' advertis.e.m.e.nt?" Perner asked--somewhat relieved, it would seem.

"I don't think we'll get to exceed _five_ thousand."

In fact, they received somewhat less than one thousand, and the original twenty thousand papers were found sufficient. These, though paid for with some degrees of promptness, were not immediately forthcoming. It is the printer's way. The "man with his sleeves rolled up" does not hasten in the process of "wiping his hands on the cheerless towel" even after the requested check has been received and cashed. Though pleaded for, argued for, demanded at last violently, the "first round of the first issue" did not arrive until the morning of the 24th, at which time Colonel Hazard put on sufficient force to dispose of them in one day.

And so the "first round of the first issue" was out at last. Also, on to-morrow their premium advertis.e.m.e.nts would appear. The dice which they had been jingling so merrily for the better part of a year they had cast, finally, on the round green table of the world.

XVI

AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW