'Oh, you are?'
'Yes. Through with you. I'm on a decent paper now. A paper that ain't afraid to print the truth.'
Mr Boice, still motionless, indulged his only nervous affection, making little sounds.'
'Mmm!' he remarked. 'Hmm! Ump! Mmm!' Then he said, 'Meaning the Gleaner, I presume.'
'Meaning the Gleaner.'
'I suppose you know that McGibbon's slated to fail within the month. He can't so much as meet his pay-roll.'
'I know more'n that!' cried Henry, laughing nervously. 'I know he's got money because I put some in to-day. Miss Dittenhoefer's quitting you this week, too. She's enthusiastic about us. I've just seen her. We're going to have a big property there. We'll buy you out one o' these days for a song. Then it'll be the Gleaner and Voice. See? But, first, we're going to clean up the town. You and Charlie Waterhouse and that-old whited sepulchre in the bank! I'll show you you can't fool with me!'
It was very youthful. Henry wished, in a swift review, that he had thought up something better and rehearsed it.
Then he saw the eyes of the huge, still man waver down to his desk. And his heart bounded.
'He's afraid of me!' ran his thoughts. 'I've licked him!'