Mark Tidd, Editor

  CHAPTER XII

  We had to forget about Rock for the next day, anyhow, and go to thecounty-seat to see about that political printing. It was two hours' rideon the train, but we enjoyed that and made use of it planning how we'dgo to work to land the business. At least Mark planned and I listenedwhile he did it. But, somehow or other, the plans we made weren't theones we carried out. Not by a long shot. If they had been Mark wouldn'thave been as famous in the State as he is to-day among men that followup politics for a living, and among newspaper men.

  No, the plans we carried out were other plans altogether, and they weremade in a lot less than two hours. I should say they were.

  We got off the train and went up to the court-house. At the door stood alot of men smoking and loafing and talking, and we walked up to them andwanted to know where we'd find the man that gave out the county printingto the newspapers.

  A couple of them winked at each other and said we'd better see the judgeof probate, who took care of orphans and lunatics and such, and Iexpected to hear Mark come right back at him with something hot. But hedidn't. Afterward he said to me:

  "Binney, when you're on b-business don't let anythin' mix up with it. Ifyou git grudges ag'in' folks s-s-save 'em up for some other day. Somefeller may say somethin' smart to you and git a l-lot of fun out of it.If you take him d-down off 'n his high horse it'll sour him quick--andthat very man may be the f-feller whose scalp you're after."

  "Shucks!" says I.

  "It's easier to git what you want out of a man that's f-f-feelin' good,"says he, "and there hain't no way to make a man feel g-good that beatslettin' him think he's awful smart. If you let him make a j-joke on you,why, he sort of feels friendly 'cause you've helped him show his friendswhat a w-w-whale of a feller he is. And then you git easier s-sailin'."

  "Maybe so," says I; "that's figgerin' too far ahead for me. If somebodysays somethin' fresh to me and I kin think of somethin' to say back,why, you can bet your hat I'm goin' to pop it right at him."

  "And l-lose money by it," says he.

  "Money hain't the whole thing," says I.

  "It is," says he, "when it's money you're _after_. When you start outf-for a thing you want to git it, don't you, whether it's m-money orapples or f-freckles on your nose? It hain't the money that's important;it's _gittin'_ it."

  That was Mark Tidd all over. If he made up his mind he was after a thinghe stuck to it till he got it, or till it was put where it was a surething he couldn't touch it. It wasn't so much that he wanted the_thing_, whatever it was; it was that he was bound to do what he set outto do. He might figure and work a week to get some old thing, and thenturn right around and give it to you. It was just the being able to_get_ it that interested _him_.

  So he didn't say a word back to the man that joked him--that is, not aword that was smart. He just says, "We hain't got any orphans orl-lunatics on hand this m-mornin', but we'd like mighty well to see thatprintin' feller."

  He was so all-fired polite about it that somebody spoke up and says,"There's a couple of 'em you'll have to deal with, sonny. Feller namedBrown and another feller named Wiggins, and they hain't what you couldcall friends, neither. You hain't like to find 'em roostin' in the samebush. Both of them's inside somewheres. If you find a feller skinnier 'na beanpole and along about nine feet high, with red hair on top of him,why, that's Wiggins. If you run ag'in' a feller equal skinny and equaltall without no hair at all, why, that's Brown. You can't mistake eitherof 'em."

  "Much obliged," says Mark, and in we went.

  We poked around quite a spell, going one place and another, but wedidn't see any tall, thin men, till we got onto the second floor andwalked up to some doors that were standing open, and looked in. It was acourt-room. We knew that right off because there was a high place builtup for the judge in front, and a pen for the jury and lots of seats.Nothing was going on at all, and we were coming out again when we hearda sort of murmur like folks were talking low and confidential.

  "'S-s-sh!" says Mark, who was always cautious till he found out where hestood. Then he craned his neck, and 'way back in the shadows were twomen, one standing and the other sitting, and the standing man was sotall and thin he could have got a job in a circus. The sitting man wasthin, with a bunch of carroty hair.

  "Brown and Wiggins," says Mark, drawing back quick.

  "Come on in, then," says I.

  "Nix," says he. "L-let's think.... Man said they wasn't friends, didn'the, and that we wasn't likely to f-f-find 'em together?"

  "Yes," says I.

  "Then," says he, "if folks that know 'em f-figger they wouldn't betogether, it's sort of f-f-funny to find 'em hobnobbin', hain't it?"

  "Why," says I, "I calc'late it is."

  "And them b-bein' politicians, it's f-funnier 'n ever," says he.

  "To be sure," says I.

  "Politicians," says he, "is said to be s-s-slippery."

  "My dad says so."

  "Then," says he, "l-lookin' at this from all sides, a man up a t-treewould figger them fellers was up to somethin', eh?"

  "Shouldn't wonder," says I, "but what of it?"

  "And they've s-sneaked off and hid to talk," says he to himself.

  "None of our business," says I.

  "Newspaper men, hain't we?"

  "Yes," says I.

  "Sellin' advertisin' to the county to-day?"

  "Yes," says I.

  "Then," says he, "whatever those f-fellers do is mighty int'restin' tome."

  "All right," says I. "What of it?"

  "I'm f-figgerin'," says he, "on how we could git to l-listen a little towhat they was sayin'."

  "Eavesdroppin'," says I, scornful-like.

  "When men is up to a game and s-sneaks off to p-plan it," he says, "it'snot eavesdroppin' to listen. They git what's comin' to 'em."

  "Have it that way, then," says I.

  "But," says he, "g-gittin' so's we can listen hain't so easy. Let's gooutside and look around."

  We went, and as we walked down-stairs Mark says, "The p'litical fight inthis county this fall is over the sheriff."

  "I know it," says I.

  "Then," says he, "if two men that's p'litical enemies is seenhobnobbin', most likely the sheriff's got somethin' to do with it.Bowman's the man that's got the job now, and Whittaker wants to git theRepublican nomination away from him. Now, takin' for granted thatpow-wow up there's about the sheriff, why, what be they d-doin' aboutit?"

  "How should I know?" says I.

  We stopped a minute at the door, and Mark says, "How's the fight forsheriff gettin' on?"

  "Perty hot," says a man--"perty almighty hot."

  "Brown's for Bowman, hain't he?" says Mark.

  "No," says the man; "where'd you git that idee? He's strong forWhittaker."

  "How's Wiggins?"

  "Nobody knows, but fellers that pertends to be wise figgers he's forBowman--jest so's to be for anybody Brown is against."

  "Huh!" says Mark. "What d'you calc'late 'u'd happen if Brown and Wigginswas to make up f-friends and work for the same man?"

  "It couldn't happen," says the man, "but if it did, with the batch ofdelegates each one of 'em controls in the convention, the man theyagreed on would have a walk-away."

  "Hum!" says Mark. "Is Brown awful strong for Whittaker?"

  "Whittaker's best friend he's got. Why, Whittaker lent him the money togo into business first, and has always been befriendin' him, and twoyear ago Brown up and married Whittaker's sister."

  "So," says Mark, "there hain't much danger of his switchin' to Bowman?"

  "He jest _couldn't_," says the man.

  "Hum!" says Mark. "Int'restin' to hear. Much obliged, mister."

  We walked on, and all of a sudden Mark chuckled right out. "Binney,"says he, "we don't need to go listenin' to what those f-f-fellers istalkin' about. I know."

  "Shucks!" says I.

  "Wait and see," says he. "We'll walk around a while and then go back andsee Wiggins."

  Which we did. In half
an hour we went back, and after looking around aspell we found Wiggins in his office. In we went.

  "Howdy-do, Mr. Wiggins!" says Mark, "I'm Mark Tidd, of Wicksville, andthis is Binney Jenks."

  "Glad to meet you," says Mr. Wiggins. "What can I do for you?"

  "Why," says Mark, "we come on b-business. I'm editor of the Wicksville_Trumpet_" he says, "and the Wicksville _Trumpet_ needs some good steadyadvertisin'. So," says he, "we come to see if we couldn't git thec-county p-printin' for the next year."

  "H'm!" says Mr. Wiggins, his eyes twinkling like he wanted to laugh."Juvenile paper? Amateur editor?"

  "Not any," says Mark. "Reg'lar weekly," and he showed Mr. Wiggins acopy.

  "Mean to say you boys are running this?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," says Mark.

  "Well," says Mr. Wiggins, "the way this printing is given out, thepapers that want it make bids telling how much the county will have topay, and then the bids are opened and the job goes to the lowest."

  "Sure," says Mark, "that's the gen'ral idee of it, but," he says, "mostgen'ally the f-feller gits it that's got the most p'litical pull, don'the, honest Injun?"

  Mr. Wiggins laughed. "Well," he said, "maybe politics does havesomething to do with it. If you think that, what made you come?"

  "Because," says Mark, "Binney and me is p-politicians, and we got pull."

  "Oh," says Mr. Wiggins. "What influence have you to bring to bear?"

  "Why," says Mark, "we sort of f-f-figger on _yours_, and on Mr.Brown's."

  Mr. Wiggins laughed right out. "Don't you know," says he, "that Brownand I don't live in the same nest at all? You couldn't get the two of usto agree on anything to save your life. And, besides, I never saw you orheard of you before. How do you figure you have _my_ influence?"

  "Because," says Mark, "we calc'late to be reg'lar p-politicians and seefarther into what's goin' on than m-most folks, and because you want uson your side a l-little worse 'n you want 'most anybody else in thecounty."

  "Now look here, sonny," says Mr. Wiggins, "I'm pretty busy, and, while Ilike boys and am willing to fool with 'em, to-day I'm short of time.Come in some other day."

  "Wait a m-minute," says Mark, "till we tell you how we size up this heresheriff fight." He didn't wait for Wiggins to say he could, but jumpedright into it.

  "This here is the hardest f-f-fight for sheriff in years," says he, "andanybody that b-beats out Bowman's got a job on his hands, eh?"

  "Yes," says Wiggins.

  "And f-f oiks gen'ally think you're for Bowman, don't they?".

  "Yes."

  "And so his side's restin' easier in their minds?"

  "Some," says Wiggins.

  "Well, then," says Mark, "s'posin' I was to p-print a story in my papersayin' that the row between you and Brown was made up, and that you andBrown had met and hobnobbed and that you'd agreed, for some reason oranother, to wait till the convention and, when the f-fight got good andhot, to make the d-delegates you control vote, not for Bowman, but forWhittaker? Folks 'u'd be int'rested in that story, eh?"

  "Say, kid," says Wiggins, jumping up onto his feet, "who sent you here?"

  "Nobody," says Mark. "We just come after the p-printin'."

  "What you say is bosh," says Wiggins.

  "It's _so_," says Mark, "and we know it's so, and you know it's so.What," says he, "if you was overheard t-talkin' up in the court-roomawhile ago?"

  Mr. Wiggins sort of caved in. "You haven't told anybody?"

  "Course not. Sich p'litical information hain't much good when you giveit away."

  "My dad's for Whittaker, anyhow," says I.

  "So's mine," says Mark, "but politics is politics. How about yourinfluence, Mr. Wiggins?"

  "You get it," says Wiggins, sharp-like. "Go tell Brown to go up to thecourt-room."

  We did that, and Brown was pretty surprised, but he went. We followedalong, and there was Wiggins waiting for us. He told Brown what Mark hadsaid to him, and Brown began to laugh as hard as he could, and then gotserious.

  "You win, kids," says he, "providin' you can keep quiet."

  "We git the p-printin'?"

  "You do," says Brown, "but how Wiggins and I will explain it to certainnewspaper men, particularly the Eagle Center _Clarion_, I don't know."

  "Was the Eagle Center _Clarion_ goin' to git it?" says I.

  "They figured on it pretty strongly," says Mr. Brown.

  And that's how we landed the county printing. It was all by Mark Tidd'susing his brains. All he needed was a hint, and he reasoned the thingright out, and it was so like he reasoned it. It made Mark pretty famouswith politicians before it was all done, for after the convention, whenWhittaker got the nomination, the story leaked out, and everybodylaughed at Brown and Wiggins, and when folks found out Mark hadn'treally heard a thing, but just jumped at conclusions and made a bluff,they laughed harder than ever.

  That was all right, but what really counted was that we got a dandypiece of business that paid well and gave the paper a lot of reputationand standing around the county. It got us a lot of subscribers, too,because there are folks that have to read about the county proceedings.

  Mr. Wiggins took us to dinner and made a lot of us, and didn't hold agrudge at all. After that we caught the train and went home, feelinglike we had done a pretty good day's work.