“Well, he’s a mean rascal,” said the editor. He bade Joe good-evening, and started in the house, but half-way up the steps he paused and called to the lad.
“Here’s something I forgot to ask you about,” he said, taking a letter from his pocket. “It is a note from Deo about you. What do you know about Deo?”
“About me?” said Joe. “I used to know Mr. Deo when I was a little boy.”
“Well, you are not such a big boy now,” said the editor, smiling. “Here is what Deo says: ‘You have a boy working in your printing-office who can make himself very useful in a good cause when the time comes. His name is Joe Maxwell, and he is a very good friend of mine. At least he used to be. Before long I shall send for him, and, whether I send in the day or in the night, I want you to let him come. If I were to tell you now what I want with him, you would laugh and say that all fat men are foolish. What I want him to do can be done only by a woman or a boy. A woman is not to be thought of, and I know of no boy I can trust except Maxwell. Just give him your permission beforehand, so that there will be no delay.’ Now what do you think about it?” inquired the editor.
“May I go?” asked Joe.
“That is for you to decide,” said the editor. “I have been knowing Deometari for nearly twenty years. He’s a good lawyer and a clever man. But, if you do go, be careful of yourself. Don’t get into any trouble. Tell Deo that all of us like you out here, and we don’t want any foolishness.”
CHAPTER XIII—A NIGHT’S ADVENTURES
It was the very next afternoon that Joe Maxwell received the expected summons from Mr. Deometari. The message was brought by a negro on a mule, and the mule seemed to be very tired, although it had come only nine miles.