"Let's take a look at that press, my dears," said Mr. Merrick. "I'm something of a mechanic myself, or was in my young days, and I may be able to work this thing until we can get a new pressman."
"I'll help you," said Arthur. "Anyone who can run an automobile ought to be able to manage a printing press."
So they went to the office, took off their coats and examined the press; but the big machine defied their combined intelligence. Uncle John turned on the power. The cylinder groaned, swung half around, and then the huge wooden "nippers" came down upon the table with a force that shattered them to kindlings. At the crash Mr. Merrick involuntarily shut down the machine, and then they all stood around and looked gloomily at the smash-up and wondered if the damage was irreparable.
"Couldn't we print the paper on the job press?" asked the little millionaire, turning to Fitzgerald.
"In sections, sir," replied Fitz, grinning. "Half a page at a time is all we can manage, but we might be able to match margins so the thing could be read."
"We'll try it," said Uncle John. "Do your best, my man, and if you can help us out of this bog you shall be amply rewarded."
Fitz looked grave.
"Never knew of such a thing being done, sir," he remarked; "but that's no reason it's impossible."
"'Twill be a horror of a make-up," added Larry, who did not relish his part in the experiment.
Uncle John put on his coat and went into the front office, followed by
Arthur and the girls in dismal procession.