The Captain's eye fell upon Nort. He looked him over affectionately.
"Nort, my boy," he said, "we're printing a newspaper."
"We are, Cap'n," responded Nort heartily, but with a glint in his eyes.
I saw the swift, grateful look that Anthy gave him.
But the old Captain's mood suddenly changed. It is in the time of triumph that we sometimes find our sorrows most poignant. He began to shake his big shaggy head.
"Ah, Nort," said he, "one thing only takes the heart out of me."
"What's that, Cap'n?" asked Nort, though we all knew well enough.
"If only the Colonel had not left us, I could put my very soul into the work. I could write wonderful editorials, Nort."
If there was one subject besides flying machines and Democrats—and possibly woman suffrage—upon which the old Captain was irreconcilable, it was Colonel Roosevelt. He had never followed or loved any leader since Lincoln as he had followed and loved Roosevelt, and when the Colonel "went astray," as he expressed it, it affected him like some great personal sorrow. It went so deep with him that he had never yet been able to write an editorial upon the subject. "Why," he had said to Anthy, "I loved him like a brother!"
"Never mind, Cap'n," said Nort. "Some of these days you'll tell us what you think about the Colonel."