t and print your regular edition."

"Tut, tut! I see. Is this a joke?" Mr. Payne asked, his eyes beginning to
twinkle.

"It is the biggest joke you ever heard of," declared Ruth.

"And who's the joke on?"

"Wait and see what I write," Ruth said, sitting down at the battered old
desk where he labored over his editorials and proofsheets.

Opening a copy of the last week's _Harpoon_ that lay there, she was able
to see the whole face of the paper.

"I've got the inside run off," said Mr. Payne, still doubtfully. "So you
can't run anything on the second and third pages."

"Oh, I want the most prominent place for my item," laughed Ruth. "Front
page, top column---- Here it is!"

He bent over her. Tom stared in wonder, too, as Ruth pointed to an item
under a certain heading at the top of the middle column of the front page
of the sheet.

"That is just where I want my item to appear," she said briskly to the
editor. "You run that--that department there every week?"

"Oh, yes, Miss. The people expect it. You know how folks are. They look
for those items first of all in a country paper."

"Yes. It is so. One of the New York dailies is still printed with that
human foible in mind. It caters to this very curiosity that your
_Harpoon_ caters to."

"Yes, Miss. You're right. Most folks have the same curiosity, city or
country. Shakespeare spoke of the 'seven ages of man'; but there are only
three of particular interest--to womankind, anyway; and they are all
_here_."

"There you go! Slurring the women," she laughed. "Or do you speak
compliments?"

"I guess the women have it right," chuckled Mr. Payne. "Now, what is it
you want me to print in one paper for you?"

Ruth drew a scratch pad to her and scribbled rapidly for a couple of
minutes. Then she passed the page to the newspaper proprietor.

Mr. Payne read it, stared at her, pursed his lips, and then read it again.
Suddenly he burst into a cackle of laughter, slapping his thigh in high
delight.

"By gravy!" he chortled, "that's a good one on the dominie. By gravy! wait
till I tell----"

"Don't you tell anybody, Mr. Payne," interrupted Ruth, smiling, but
firmly. "I am buying your secrecy as well as your edition of _one copy_."

"I get you! I get you!" declared the old fellow. "This is to be on the
q.t.?"

"Positively."

"You sit right here. The front page is all made up on the stone,
Marriages, Births, Death Notices, and all. I'll set the paragraph and
slip