We sold them for three cents apiece, and every fellow had subscription blanks in his pocket so if anybody got so reckless as to want to subscribe we could catch him before he cooled off. You wouldn’t believe it, but before night we had raked in forty-six regular honest-to-goodness subscribers.
Folks was that interested! At first they bought our papers to see the joke, I guess, but pretty soon they were buying them because they wanted to read what was in them, and especial to read about Henry Wigglesworth and the two page advertisements from Pawl and Giddings.
The Eagle Center Clarion was on deck, too, giving away sample copies of the new Wicksville edition. But we had Spragg swamped. For every local he had we printed three, and three of the kind Wicksville folks like to read. He had only a dozen lines about Henry Wigglesworth, while we had two columns full of interesting things, and mystery, and Rock, and such like. It was the first time folks really got any clear idea of what had happened out there. At that, I guess they thought they had a clearer idea than they had. I know we editors would have given considerable to be better posted.
Ten minutes after he got his paper Mr. Pawl started out to lick Mr. Giddings. About that same minute Mr. Giddings started out to do things to Mr. Pawl, and they met in the square close to the town pump. Each of them had a Trumpet clutched in his fingers, and was waving it around like a battle flag. When they saw each other they both let out a bellow and rushed.
But neither of them was so war-like, when it came to doing regular fighting, as they were when nothing but yelling was necessary. When they got about eight feet apart they both stepped like somebody was standing up and hauling on the lines. They stopped so sudden it must have jarred them, and there they stood, shaking their fists at each other and waving their Trumpets.
Uncle Ike Bond, the ’bus driver, drew up his horses and craned his neck to listen.
“What’s trouble?” he called down.
“They’re squabblin’ about them advertisements,” said Jim Walker.
“Um! ... If I was them fellers I’d keep shet up about them ads. As I view it there was consid’able truth about both of ’em. Giddings he lets on Pawl is a skinflint and weighs his hand with every pound of butter; Pawl he gives it out that Giddings hain’t got but one honest hair in his head, and that one’s so loose at the root it’s clost to fallin’ out. I’ve dealt consid’able with both,” Uncle Ike went on, waggling his head, “and as I view it nobody hain’t been wronged.” He stopped a minute and squinted down at them.
“Be you honest figgerin’ on a fight?” he asked, “’cause if you be I’ll stop to watch, but if it hain’t nothin’ but a fist-shakin’ match I’ll move along. Hey?”