So Jeremy and Buddy Higman became fellow-workers. Buddy’s job was decidedly indeterminate. It did n’t matter. In taking him on Jeremy was performing his first definite service to Marcia.
A week later his second was completed. Eli Wade was appointed a member of the Library Board. The Guardian chronicled the appointment more conspicuously than its unimportance as news warranted. Jeremy hoped that in some manner Marcia would see or hear of it.
CHAPTER IV
MARTIN EMBREE more than fulfilled his word.
As if a royal patent had been issued in favor of The Guardian, the Senator’s zealous partisans of the Northern Tier bestowed upon it their patronage. Max Verrall, who revealed himself as a brisk and unfettered spirit with political ambitions and a slavish fervency for Embree, did the actual work of establishing the circulation in the district, and did it so well that Jeremy Robson had no misgivings in turning over to him the circulation managership of the paper.
In Fenchester the paper held about even for a time. The new features which Galpin had put on gained readers, though not as fast as he had hoped. To offset this, there had been some loss among the more rabid element of the Deutscher Club, Bausch having spread the report that the new ownership was anti-German. On his next visit to Fenchester, to deliver the formal address at a school dedication, Senator Embree reproached Jeremy for his tactlessness in handling the Prince Henry message.
“Don’t stick your fighting-jaw out at me, young Robson,” he added cheerily. “Keep that for your enemies. Now you put in a nice, good-tempered philosophic little editorial paragraph on the ‘entente cordiale’ line.” Jeremy began. “I’m da———”
“No, you’re not,” broke in the other. “Listen. Here’s the idea.” And he outlined an editorial so tactful, so deft, so diplomatic whilst still independently American in tone, that for sheer pleasure in good workmanship the editor agreed to adopt it.