lked up to the desk and handed in the proof, asking:

"Is that all right?"

"No," said Mr. Gifford. "We let our stock of bags run down because the
name of the firm was changed. I want to add several things. I'll send
for somebody to have the proof corrections made."

"You needn't," said Jack. "Tell me what you want. Any boy who's ever
worked in a newspaper office can do a little thing like that."

"How do you come to know so much about machinery?" asked Mr. Gifford,
trying not to laugh.

"Oh," said Jack, "I was brought up a blacksmith, but I've worked at
other trades, and it was easy enough to adjust those things."

"That's what you've been up to is it?" said Mr. Gifford. "I saw you
hammering and filing, and I wondered what you'd accomplished. I want
the new paper bags to be,"--and he told Jack what changes were
required, and added:

"Then, of course, I shall need some circulars--three kinds--and some
cards."

"That press will run over a thousand an hour when it's geared right.
You'll see," said Jack, positively.

"Well, here's a true Jack-at-all-trades!" exclaimed Mr. Gifford,
opening his eyes. "I begin to wish we had a place for you!"

It was nearly noon before Jack had another sample of printing ready to
show. There was a good supply of type, to be sure, but he was not much
of a printer, and type-setting did not come easily to him. He worked
almost desperately, however, and meanwhile his brains were as busy as
the coffee-mills. He succeeded finally, and it was time, for a
salesman was just reporting:

"Mr. Gifford, we're out of paper bags."

"We must have some right away," said Mr. Gifford. "I wish that
youngster really knew how to print them. He's tinkering at it over
there."

"Is that right?" asked Jack only a second later, holding out a printed
bag.

"Why, yes, that's the thing. Go ahead," said the surprised
coffee-dealer. "I thought you'd failed this time."

"I'll run off a lot," said Jack, "and then I'll go out and get
something to eat."

"No, you won't," said Mr. Gifford promptly. "No going out, during
business hours, in _this_ house. I'll have a luncheon brought to you.
I'll try you to-day, anyhow."

Back went Jack without another word, but he thought silently, "That
saves me ten cents."

The Alligator press was started, and Jack fed it with the blank paper
bags the salesmen needed, and he began to feel happy. He was even
happier when his luncheon was brought; for the