The next afternoon Penny and Louise arrived at the Weekly Times to find that the entire lower floor had been cleaned and swept. Old Horney was discovered in the composing room, stirring up a great cloud of dust with a stub of a broom.
“I was just cleaning the place up a bit,” he said apologetically. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” laughed Penny. “I’m delighted. Our staff of janitors has lost interest here of late.”
“I set a little type for you last night, too.”
“Why, Horney! I didn’t know you were a linotype operator.”
“I’m not,” answered the old man, “but I can learn most anything if I set my mind to it. If you have any jobs you want done just turn them over to me.”
“Horney,” said Penny soberly, “more than anything else I would like to publish the Weekly in my own plant. The obstacles seem almost too great to overcome; do you think it could be accomplished?”
“Why, sure,” said Horney. “If I had some tools and a little to do with I could get the presses ready in a day.”
“What about the stereotyping work?”
“I could master the trick of it,” declared Horney confidently.