"I'll do what I can for you," promised Jerry.
"You will! That's good of you. I reckon a few words from you, or a sketch from your pen, goes a long way with the public," replied Glen.
Jerry laughed. There was not an atom of conceit about him.
"I do my best to amuse the public. I fancy I manage it all right somehow, but heaven knows where the talent I possess comes from, for I never had much education. I'm what they call self-taught."
"Then you were a better teacher than hundreds of men who profess to know a heap of things," declared Glen.
"Perhaps so. A battle with the world when you're young is a good education in itself," replied Jerry.
Glen told him how "The Sketch," and Jerry's drawings, were to be found even on the fence and in Boonara.
"I've spent hours over 'em," he said. "The man who can make a keeper of the fence laugh deserves a big pension for life."
Jerry pulled "The Sketch" out of his pocket.
"That's the latest. Just off the press. I'll leave it you."