stone,
though less demonstrative, seemed also gratified. Few, if any, of the
sample copies could have reached their destination, and it must have
been an early riser indeed who had already seen their advertising and
forwarded a subscription. When the letter was found to be from one
Dorothy Castle of Cleveland, the wonder grew.

"She must have got hold of an advance copy," commented Perner. "You came
from Cleveland, Stony; do you know any Castles out there?"

Livingstone thought hard, and admitted that the name sounded familiar;
his people might know her.

Then there was a careful examination of the precious document by each in
turn.

"I'll bet that's a bully girl!" decided Van Dorn, with emphasis. "I can
tell by the handwriting."

"She is that," agreed Livingstone.

"Let's have it framed and hung up as a souvenir," suggested Perner.

"Give it to me," said Livingstone. "I have an idea."

Perner made a copy of it first for the Colonel. His enthusiasm had
returned.

"She wants a Bible," he commented. "I say, fellows, don't you think we'd
better have a thousand Bibles sent right up? That seems to be the
premium they want."

"Better wait till to-morrow," advised Van Dorn; "then we'll have the
money to pay for them with."

This seemed good advice. The rest of the day they spent between the
studios and the circulation department below. No further subscriptions
were received, however, and though they remarked to each other that of
course they did not expect them, it was evident that evening found them
somewhat more silent than usual.

They were up next morning early. Breakfast was a mere form, and
conversation difficult. They made a pretense of the usual banter, it is
true, but the laughter sounded spasmodic and strange. The long strain
upon them had told.

Perner reached the big mail-box first, and struck it with his foot. It
rang hollow. He peered down through the long opening in the top.

"Empty," he said; "postman hasn't come yet. Perhaps there's such a lot
it delayed him, or they're sending it in a special sack."

"Maybe the Colonel's already got it," suggested Van Dorn.

They ran up the stairs like boys. Colonel Hazard sat at his desk, his
assistants ranged about a long table behind him. Some of them were idle.
The others were entering a few belated lists of names.

"Mail come?" panted Livingstone, breathlessly.

The Colonel nodded.

"Came just as I did. Met the postman in the hall. Several lists