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Page 50
"Gosh, but I'd like to hev seen it," said the printer. "There
ain't any chance, I reckon, o' such a sight here. The boss don't
take no risks lampoonin', and he" (the editor knew he was being
indicated by some unseen gesture of the unseen workman) "ain't that
style."
"Ye never kin tell," said the foreman didactically, "what might
happen! I've known editors to get into a fight jest for a little
innercent bedevilin' o' the opposite party. Sometimes for a
misprint. Old man Pritchard of the 'Argus' oncet had a hole blown
through his arm because his proofreader had called Colonel
Starbottle's speech an 'ignominious' defense, when the old man hed
written 'ingenuous' defense."
The editor paused in his proof-reading. He had just come upon the
sentence: "We cannot congratulate Liberty Hill--in its superior
elevation--upon the ignominious silence of the representative of
all Calaveras when this infamous Bill was introduced." He referred
to his copy. Yes! He had certainly written "ignominious,"--that
was what his informants had suggested. But was he sure they were
right? He had a vague recollection, also, that the representative
alluded to--Senator Bradley--had fought two duels, and was a "good"
though somewhat impulsive shot! He might alter the word to
"ingenuous" or "ingenious," either would be finely sarcastic, but
then--there was his foreman, who would detect it! He would wait
until he had finished the entire article. In that occupation he
became oblivious of the next room, of a silence, a whispered
conversation, which ended with a rapping at the door and the
appearance of the foreman in the doorway.
"There's a man in the office who wants to see the editor," he said.
"Show him in," replied the editor briefly. He was, however,
conscious that there was a singular significance in his foreman's
manner, and an eager apparition of the other printer over the
foreman's shoulder.
"He's carryin' a shot-gun, and is a man twice as big as you be,"
said the foreman gravely.
The editor quickly recalled his own brief and as yet blameless
record in the "Clarion." "Perhaps," he said tentatively, with a
gentle smile, "he's looking for Captain Brush" (the absent editor).
"I told him all that," said the foreman grimly, "and he said he
wanted to see the man in charge."
In proportion as the editor's heart sank his outward crest arose.
"Show him in," he said loftily.
"We KIN keep him out," suggested the foreman, lingering a moment;
"me and him," indicating the expectant printer behind him, "is
enough for that."
"Show him up," repeated the editor firmly.
The foreman withdrew; the editor seated himself and again took up
his proof. The doubtful word "ignominious" seemed to stand out of
the paragraph before him; it certainly WAS a strong expression! He
was about to run his pencil through it when he heard the heavy step
of his visitor approaching. A sudden instinct of belligerency took
possession of him, and he wrathfully threw the pencil down.
The burly form of the stranger blocked the doorway. He was dressed
like a miner, but his build and general physiognomy were quite
distinct from the local variety. His upper lip and chin were
clean-shaven, still showing the blue-black roots of the beard which
covered the rest of his face and depended in a thick fleece under
his throat. He carried a small bundle tied up in a silk
handkerchief in one hand, and a "shot-gun" in the other, perilously
at half-cock. Entering the sanctum, he put down his bundle and
quietly closed the door behind him. He then drew an empty chair
towards him and dropped heavily into it with his gun on his knees.
The editor's heart dropped almost as heavily, although he quite
composedly held out his hand.
"Shall I relieve you of your gun?"
"Thank ye, lad--noa. It's moor coomfortable wi' me, and it's main
dangersome to handle on the half-cock. That's why I didn't leave
'im on the horse outside!"
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