IXTEEN hours a day for three days was Vance’s first experience on the Prospector. All day and far into the evening he set type and made up forms, until finally the paper was ready to be brought out. It contained the retiring proprietor’s bow to the public, and Vance’s announcement.
The next evening he called at the Bonifields’. Louise greeted him more kindly than ever. The Colonel, after assuring him that excellent progress was being made on Gray Rocks, turned the conversation to Vance’s new venture.
“Vehy creditable, suh; vehy creditable, indeed,” said he, glancing at a copy of the Prospector which he had been reading. “Louise and I think yo’ve made an excellent beginnin’, suh, vehy excellent.”
“Indeed we do,” said Louise; “we have often heard, though, that editors were quite exclusive, and we didn’t know but that was the reason you have not called on us for so long a time.”
“Well, that is the reason,” responded Vance, jestingly. “As managing editor of the Prospector, I have been exclusively engaged in setting type, making up forms, etc.”
They laughed at Vance’s remark, and complimented him on being able to impersonate all the functionaries of a printing establishment. In the midst of their conversation, Aunt Sally appeared at the door of the parlor, and courtesying low to Vance, said:
“Good evenin’, Mr. Gilder; I ‘low I’ve been wantin’ to sec yo’ fo’ some time, suh.”
Vance returned the salutation by rising and bowing politely. As he sat down he noticed the Colonel was greatly disturbed, as if he feared a storm was approaching.