eakfast table, and Arthur remarked:

"You won't be able to hold Hetty in Millville long. Her talent enables
her to draw big salaries in New York and it isn't likely she will
consent to bury herself in this little town."

"I'm not so sure," said Patsy. "If we can hold Thursday Smith we can
hold Hetty, you know."

"We won't need to hold either of them for long," observed Beth; "for in
another three weeks or so we must leave here and return to the city,
when of course the _Millville Daily Tribune_ must suspend publication."

"I've been thinking of that," said Uncle John.

"So have I," declared Patsy. "For a long time I was puzzled what to do,
for I hated dreadfully to kill our dear _Tribune_ after we've made it
such a nice paper. Yet I knew very well we couldn't stay here all winter
and run it. But last night I had an inspiration. Thursday will marry
Hetty, I suppose, and they can both stay here and run the Tribune. They
are doing most of the work now. If Uncle John agrees, we will sell out
to them on 'easy terms.'"

"Good gracious, Patsy!" chuckled the major, "wherever can the poor
things borrow money to keep going? Do you want to load onto an innocent
bride an' groom the necessity of meeting a deficit of a couple of
hundred dollars every week?"

Patsy's face fell.

"They have no money, I know," she said, "except what they earn."

"And their wages'll be cut off when they begin hiring themselves," added
the major. "No; you can't decently thrust such an incubus on Hetty and
Thursday--or on anyone else. You've been willing to pay the piper for
the sake of the dance, but no one else would do it."

"Quite true," agreed Arthur. "The days of the _Millville Tribune_ are
numbered."

"Let us not settle that question just yet," proposed Mr. Merrick, who
had been deep in thought. "I'll consider Patsy's proposition for awhile
and then talk with Thursday. The paper belongs to the girls, but the
outfit is mine, and I suppose I may do what I please with it when my
nieces retire from journalism."

Even the major could not demur at this statement and so the conversation
dropped. During the next few days Uncle John visited the printing office
several times and looked over the complete little plant with speculative
eyes. Then one day he made a trip to Malvern, thirty miles up the
railway line from the Junction, where a successful weekly paper had long
been published. He interviewed the editor, examined the outfit
critically, a