en.

One morning her uncle came down a trifle late for breakfast and was in
a hurry.

"The Elliston School of Commercial Instruction will have a recess for
this session," he observed as he popped into his chair. "I have an
important engagement at the factory this morning and have about seven
minutes for breakfast. During that seven minutes I prefer to eat
rather than to talk. However, I do not object to listening. This being
my last word except to request you to gather things closely about my
plate, you may now start."

"Very well," said she, dimpling as she usually did at any evidence of
briskness on the part of her Uncle Dan, for from long experience she
knew the harmlessness of his bark. "Nick Allstyne happened to remark
to me last night that the _Bulletin_ is for sale. What do you think of
the newspaper business for Bobby?"

"The time necessary to answer that question takes my orange from me,"
objected Uncle Dan as he hastily sipped another bite of the fruit and
pushed it away. "The newspaper business for Bobby!" He drew the
muffins toward him and took one upon his plate, then he stopped and
pondered a moment. "Do you know," said he, "that's about the best
suggestion you've made. I believe he could make a hummer out of a
newspaper. I've noticed this about the boy's failures; they have all
of them been due to lack of experience; none of them has been due to
any absence of backbone. Nobody has ever bluffed him."

Agnes softly clapped her hands.

"Exactly!" she cried. "Well, Uncle Dan, this is the last word _I'm_
going to say. For the balance of your seven minutes I'm going to help
stuff you with enough food to keep you until luncheon time; but
sometime to-day, if you find time, I want you to go over and see the
proprietor of the _Bulletin_ and find out how much he wants for his
property, and investigate it as a business proposition just the same
as if you were going into it yourself."

Uncle Dan, dipping voraciously into his soft boiled eggs, grinned and
said: "Huh!" Then he looked at his watch. When he came home to dinner,
however, he hunted up Agnes at once.

"Your _Bulletin_ proposition looks pretty good," he told her. "I saw
Greenleaf. He's a physical wreck and has been for two years. He has to
get away or die. Moreover, his physical condition has reacted upon his
paper. His circulation has run down, but he has a magnificent plant
and a good office organization. He wants two hundred thousand dollars
for