"What about the stereotyping work?"

"I could master the trick of it," declared Horney confidently.

"Horney, you're a jewel!" laughed Penny. "I'll place you in charge of my production department, but I fear I can't give you a salary in proportion to your duties."

"Don't worry about that, Miss. I would rather be working than sitting around with nothing to do."

"Then look over the plant and make up a list of the things you must have," suggested Penny. "I'll go over to the _Star_ this minute and arrange for printing paper."

Leaving Louise in charge of the office, she jubilantly set forth for her father's plant. Now that Old Horney had been added to the staff of the _Weekly_, problems which previously had seemed unsurmountable suddenly had become easily solved.

Entering the _Star_ building, Penny went directly to the stockroom, wandering about until she found Mr. Curry, the foreman.

"Here's something for you," she grinned, offering a slip of paper.

"What's this?" Mr. Curry asked with a puzzled frown. "An order for a roll of paper?"

"Yes, Mr. Curry," explained Penny. "At last I am going to publish my own sheet over in the old _Press_ building. Dad is staking me to a little paper."

"A little! Why, one of these big rolls would print more copies of your paper than you could sell in six months! And paper is expensive. How about a half-roll or even a quarter? It would be a lot easier to handle."

"Oh, all right," agreed Penny. "Just so I get enough to print my first issue."

Mr. Curry led the way to one of the presses, pointing to a roll of paper mounted on a feeding rack.

"That one is about half used up," he said. "Will it do?"

"Yes, I guess so," agreed Penny. "May I have it right away?"

Mr. Curry replied by pushing a tram along a miniature railway which ran under the press. With surprising skill, he maneuvered the roll into position on the carrier. Then he pushed the tram to the elevator, moved the portable paper lift over the roll, and up it went to the platform.

The elevator grounded at the first floor where the paper was rolled to the loading dock with pry bars.

"There you are," said the foreman.

"All I need now is a truck," Penny cried exultantly. "Thanks, Mr. Curry!"

Standing guard beside her paper she waited until one of the _Star_ drivers had finished unloading his cargo and was ready to pull from the dock.

"How's chances fer a ride, buddy?" asked Penny, jerking her thumb in the manner of a hitch-hiker. "Me and my paper to the _Weekly Times_."

"Okay," laughed the trucker.

He rolled the paper onto the truck, and Penny climbed into the cab beside him. At the _Times_ building she had the roll set off at the rear entrance where Old Horney easily could get it to the press room.

Highly elated, Penny mounted the steps two at a time, bursting in upon Louise who was busy writing headlines.

"Got it!" she announced. "About six hundred pounds of paper. That should keep the _Weekly_ going for awhile."

"Here's something to dampen your enthusiasm." Louise thrust a letter toward her. "Another kick on that octopus tattoo story you wrote. A Mrs.

Brown says she heartily disapproves of such outlandish tales, and that she'll never buy another copy of the _Times_."

"At least it proves my story attracted attention," chuckled Penny.

"Anything else while I was gone?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weems telephoned to ask that you come to the cottage as soon as possible. And that reminds me--the telephone bill. The company requires a month's advance--"

"Never mind the bills," interrupted Penny. "Did Mrs. Weems say anything about Anchor Joe?"

"He appears to be much better."

"I'm glad of that. I suppose I should drive out to the cottage before it gets dark."

"Run along. I'll look after everything here."

Penny swept her desk clear of papers and locked the drawers. "If you have any spare time you might see what you can do with my algebra a.s.signment,"

she suggested. "I missed every problem but one yesterday."

"I have my own lesson troubles," responded Louise. "I'm wading up to my neck in Latin, and the next monthly quiz is certain to drown me."

"Teachers have no consideration," sighed Penny. "None at all."

Gathering up her school books, she bade Louise good-bye and left the office. On the stairway she met Old Horney.

"I've made my list," he said, offering it to her. "I figure we can't get out the paper with less than this."

Penny glanced at the paper and slipped it into her purse.

"I'll get the things somehow," she promised. "By the way, there's a roll of paper on the loading dock."

"I've already hauled 'er in," replied Old Horney. "Any other jobs for me?"

"No, you seem to be one jump ahead," laughed Penny.

They descended the stairway together, the steps creaking beneath their weight. There was a different look to Old Horney, Penny thought, stealing a glance at him. His hair had been cut and his face was clean-shaven.

Work had given him a new outlook, a desire to recover his self respect.

"I suppose you knew Matthew Judson rather well?" she remarked reflectively.

"Oh, sure."

"What was he like, Horney?"

"Well--" the old man hesitated, at a loss for words. "Judson was queer, sort of cold and unfriendly except to those who knew him best, but he was a square-shooter."

"The employes liked him?"

"Everyone did except a few chronic sore-heads."