“How much?” says. Mr. Pawl, who was the chairman.
“Well,” says Mark, “we got our p-plant and stock, that’s worth s-somethin’. We got fifteen hunderd subscribers, and that’s worth a lot, for they’ve got a year to run, and we’ve got cash in the bank. About twelve hunderd d-d-dollars. I’ll tell you what. Give us t-t-two thousand dollars, and we’ll call it a deal.”
Well, they figgered, and Lawyer Jones figgered with them, and Mark figgered with them, until at last they agreed, and a contract was made and signed sayin’ the money would be paid over next day. Then Mark says:
“You’re goin’ to n-need an editor right off. You got a n-newspaper man here. Maybe he hain’t acted jest right to us, but for all that, maybe he’s a good man. Why d-don’t you give Spragg a chance at b-bein’ editor? He’s worked to git up this company of yourn. It’ll be up to him to make good.”
Spragg looked queer at Mark, but didn’t say a word till the meeting decided to give him a try. Then he walked over to Mark and says, holding out his hand:
“What you just did, Mark Tidd, is a mighty fine thing, and I’m going to deserve it. And if you’re ever looking for a friend come to me—Spragg.” That was all.
And so I guess that’s about all of everything. We sold out for two thousand dollars, which Mark divided between us, fair and square, and we put it in the bank. We knew Mark was a business man, and he had done things before that made folks take notice, but I don’t know as he’ll ever do a job of work harder than taking a busted-down newspaper that he bought for three-four hunderd dollars, and making it a first-class newspaper, and selling out for such a profit—just to pass away a vacation.
Some day he’s going to make Rockefeller hustle.
THE END
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