In about two jerks of a lamb’s tail we were through the hedge and out of sight. Rock sauntered out of the arbor as if nothing had happened, and we saw Jethro stop and talk to him with a scowl. Then we hurried back to town.
CHAPTER IX
During the next few days we were pretty busy getting ready for the next issue of the Trumpet, so we didn’t get to see Rock, and Mark didn’t have a minute to study out that puzzle about the cat and what color is a brick and all that. Things didn’t go along as smooth this time as they did before. Mark said it was because the novelty had worn off. We got some advertising, but there weren’t any full pages, and we didn’t get in half a dozen subscriptions, so that when the paper was printed we were just about out of money again.
Our paper, printed with patent insides, as they call them, had to be paid for at the express office before we could get it, and Tecumseh Androcles Spat had had to buy a new pair of pants on account of some trouble with a dog while he was out walking one evening, and ink cost money. You haven’t any idea what a lot it takes to print a paper.
Well, we got it out all right, and then started to sell it. But this time Spragg was right on hand with his Eagle Center Clarion, and had kids selling it just like we sold the Trumpet, only he sold his paper for three cents, while we had to get five or bust.
And this time he had more Wicksville news, though we still beat him there. But folks will buy cheap even if what they’re getting isn’t so good as what costs a little more. The result of the whole thing was that we got left with a hundred papers on our hands, and that was pretty bad. It was Spragg that did it.
When we knew just how we’d come out we had a meeting in the office to see what to do about it.
“If we could only git rid of Spragg,” says Tallow.
“Yes,” says I, “he’s messin’ up the whole show.”
“S-sounds easy,” says Mark. “How’d you goat it?”