educed to his last desperate stake. He grew almost
haggard over the proposition, and he spent two solid weeks in
investigation. He went to Washington to see Jack Starlett, who knew
three or four newspaper proprietors in Philadelphia and elsewhere. He
obtained introductions to these people and consulted with them,
inspected their plants and listened to all they would say; as they
liked him, they said much. Ripened considerably by what he had found
out he came back home and bought the _Bulletin_. Moreover, he had very
definitely made up his mind precisely what to do with it.

On the first morning that he walked into the office of that paper as
its sole owner and proprietor, he called the managing editor to him
and asked:

"What, heretofore, has been the politics of this paper?"

"Pale yellow jelly," snapped Ben Jolter wrathfully.

"Supposed to be anti-Stone, hasn't it been?" Bobby smilingly inquired.

"But always perfectly ladylike in what it said about him."

"And what are the politics of the employees?"

At this Mr. Jolter snorted.

"They are good newspaper men, Mr. Burnit," he stated in quick defense;
"and a good newspaper man has no politics."

Bobby eyed Mr. Jolter with contemplative favor. He was a stout,
stockily-built man, with a square head and sparse gray hair that would
persist in tangling and curling at the ends; and he perpetually kept
his sleeves rolled up over his big arms.

"I don't know anything about this business," confessed Bobby, "but I
hope to. First of all, I'd like to find out why the _Bulletin_ has no
circulation."

"The lack of a spinal column," asserted Jolter. "It has had no policy,
stood pat on no proposition, and made no aggressive fight on
anything."

"If I understand what you mean by the word," said Bobby slowly, "the
_Bulletin_ is going to have a policy."

It was now Mr. Jolter's turn to gaze contemplatively at Bobby.

"If you were ten years older I would feel more hopeful about it," he
decided bluntly.

The young man flushed uncomfortably. He was keenly aware that he had
made an ass of himself in business four successive times, and that
Jolter knew it. By way of facing the music, however, he showed to his
managing editor a letter, left behind with old Johnson for Bobby by
the late John Burnit:

The mere fact that a man has been foolish four times is no
absolute proof that he is a fool; but it's a mighty
significant hint. However, Bobby, I'm still betting o