Paul's courage ebbed. The question was crisp and direct, demanding a reply of similar tenor. With a gulp of apprehension the lad struggled to make an auspicious opening for his subject; but no words came to his tongue.
"Perhaps you brought a message from your father," suggested the great man, after he had waited impatiently for an interval.
"No, sir. Father didn't know that I was coming," Paul contrived to stammer. "I came on my own account. I wanted to know if you wouldn't like to print the March Hare, a new monthly publication that is soon coming out."
"The March Hare!" repeated Mr. Carter incredulously.
Paul nodded silently.
"Did I hear aright?" inquired Mr. Carter majestically. "Did you say the March Hare?"
The title took on a ludicrous incongruity as it fell from his lips.
"Yes, sir," gasped Paul. "We are going to get out a High School paper and call it the March Hare."
Mr. Carter made no comment. He seemed too stunned with amazement to do so.
"We want to make it a really good paper," went on Paul desperately. "The school has never had a paper before, but I don't see why it shouldn't. We're all studying English and writing compositions. Why shouldn't we write something for publication?"