me
see!"

She went to the light, spread the paper and eagerly read. Then she
glanced back a moment and saw his worn face and the weary droop of his
back.

"Say--you're dead tired. Sit down. You don't mind the bed, do you?"

He smiled softly.

"I don't! I am pretty much done up." And he sank down, and let his hands
droop between his knees.

Sally read, and then suddenly turned to him.

"This editorial is--it's just a ripper."

The author felt the thrill of a creator. She went on:

"I wish every working-girl in New York could read this."

"So do I."

She turned and looked at him, more and more excited.

"So _this_ is what you're doing. I must pinch myself--it's all a dream!
Too good to be true."

Suddenly there seemed to be a reversal in their relationships. Before,
his end of the beam was down, hers up. But subtly in her voice he felt
the swing to the other extreme. She had set him in a realm above
herself.

"Tell me," she said, "just how you came to go into this."

He told her a little, and as he spoke he became thoroughly at his ease
with her, as if she were a man, and in the pleasure of their swift
comradeship they could laugh at each other.

"Mr. Blaine," she said, suddenly, "if I got you into this, it's up to me
to help you win. I'm going to turn into an agent for you--I'll make 'em
subscribe right and left."

Joe laughed at her.

"Lordy, if you knew how good it is to hear this--after tramping up three
miles of stairs and more and nabbing a tawdry twenty subscriptions."

"Is that all you got?"

"People don't understand."

"We'll _make_ them!" cried Sally, clenching her fist.

Joe laughed warmly; he was delighted with her.

"Are you working here?" he asked.

"Yes--you know I used to be in Newark--I was the president of the
Newark Hat-Trimmers' Union."

"And now?"

"I'm trying to organize the girls here."

"Well," he muttered, grimly. "I wouldn't like to be your boss, Miss
Heffer."

She laughed in her low voice.

"Let me tell you what sort I am!" And she sat down, crossed her legs,
and clasped her hands on her raised knee. "I was working in that Newark
factory, and the girls told me to ask the boss, Mr. Plump, for a half
holiday. So I went into his office and said: 'Mr. Plump, the girls want
a half holiday.' He was very angry. He said: 'You won't get it. Mind
your own business.' So I said, quietly: 'All right, Mr. Plump, we'll
take a _whole_ holiday. We won't show up Monday.' Th