"In the past, and, I hope, in the future. I am tempted to risk a battle with 'The Observer.' With Cairns and O'Connor, myself, and one or two others—yourself, for instance, doctor—we might make the old rag gallop, possibly even beat it, eh?"
"Stop a minute. Do any of you drink?" asked the doctor.
The other men shook their heads.
"Too early," said Cairns. "If we started now, where would we end?"
"Very well, then. Let me have some details before I decide. Who is to finance the paper?"
"I shall do that, with your help, if you like, leaving the public to pay us principal and interest when we have destroyed Ebenezer Brown and his organ," said Denis Quirk.
"Cairns will be editor, I suppose?" asked the doctor.
"Cairns editor, O'Connor a reporter, myself manager, and Tim O'Neill printer's devil."
"Tim O'Neill!" laughed the doctor. "Where did you discover that rapscallion? Molly Healy introduced you to him, I swear."