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 L162 
 

THE GOLDEN HOUR SERIES 
 
 A new series of boohs for young people, bound in extra 
 cloth, with illuminated designs, illustrations, 
 and title-pages made especially 
 for each volume 
 
 A LITTLE DUSKY HERO. By Harriet T. Comstock. 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. By Amos R. Wells. 
 
 THE CHILD AND THE TREE. By Bessie Kenyon 
 Ulrich. 
 
 DAISIES AND DIGGLESES. By Evelyn Raymond. 
 
 HOW THE TWINS CAPTURED A HESSIAN. By James 
 Otis. 
 
 THE I CAN SCHOOL. By Eva A. Madden. 
 
 MASTER FRISKY. By Clarence W. Hawkes. 
 
 MISS DE PEYSTER'S BOY. By Etiieldred B. Barry. 
 MOLLY. By Barbara Yechton. 
 
 -THE WONDER SHIP. By Sophie Swett. 
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES. By Homer Greene. 
 
 PRICE PER VOLUME, NET, 50 CENTS 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
HERE, FELLOWS,” HE WHISPERED, “BOOST ME UP THERE.” 
 
Copyright, 1902, 
 
 By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company. 
 
8 13 
 
 W+624-i 
 
 N. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Q 
 
 Chapter. 
 
 
 Page. 
 
 fO 
 
 I. 
 
 The Big Ben Franklin Press . . 
 
 1 
 
 «. ; 
 
 II. 
 
 An Interesting Boy. 
 
 7 
 
 
 III. 
 
 The Caxton Club is Formed . . 
 
 14 
 
 
 IY. 
 
 Editorial Trials and Triumphs . 
 
 22 
 
 
 Y. 
 
 Who is “Lee Brane” ? . . . . 
 
 27 
 
 
 YI. 
 
 The Feeble Effort. 
 
 o o 
 OO 
 
 'is 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Great Journalistic Trust 
 
 39 
 
 5s 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Beform Campaign. 
 
 44 
 
 U 
 
 v \ 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Woe of the Little Bed Club- 
 
 
 0 
 
 
 House. 
 
 50 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 X. 
 
 Ben in Trouble . .. 
 
 56 
 
 'N 
 
 XI. 
 
 Hard Times. 
 
 60 
 
 % 
 
 w 
 
 XII. 
 
 President Grace has a Word to 
 
 
 % 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 Say. 
 
 70 
 
 ■M 
 
 XIII. 
 
 N.A.P.A. 
 
 76 
 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Ho, for the Hub !. 
 
 81 
 
 
 XY. 
 
 The Transom. 
 
 90 
 
 4- 
 
 XYI. 
 
 “Forgive Me ! ”. 
 
 96 
 
 
 XVII. 
 
 President Earle. 
 
 102 
 
 
 
 (iii) 
 
 

 
THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 - ♦ - 
 
 I. 
 
 THE BIG BEN FRANKLIN PRESS. 
 
 “ T think I have it this time! ” said Mr. 
 Colton, triumphantly. 
 
 “ Have what?” asked his wife. 
 
 “ Why, something to rouse Arthur ! ” 
 
 “ He’s listless enough, poor fellow,” sighed 
 Mrs. Colton. “ To-day I thought he looked 
 very pale and languid. Oh, why did he have 
 to have scarlet fever? He was such a bright 
 and active little fellow. What is it you * are 
 going to try now ? ” 
 
 “ It’s a — ” began Mr. Colton, but cut him¬ 
 self short with the question, “ Has n’t it come ? ” 
 
 “ Nothing has come.” 
 
 “ That’s strange. They said it should be here 
 by six, sure. It’ll be here soon. Call Arthur, 
 for I’d like to have him on the spot.” 
 
 Mrs. Colton smiled, for she saw that her hus¬ 
 band was as eager as a boy for the coming toy, 
 
2 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 whatever it was; more eager than the real boy 
 was likely to be. Her heart was heavy as she 
 went to call her son; for the lacl, though sur¬ 
 rounded with all the luxuries his rich banker 
 father could think of, was spiritless, with a pale 
 face and peevish ways. His poor health kept 
 him much indoors, and he had a tutor instead 
 of the joyous life of a school, and was with¬ 
 out a single boy companion. His room was 
 crammed with handsome books and elaborate 
 games and toys, but he was always bored, and 
 went wandering about the large, beautifully fur¬ 
 nished house, in no corner of which had this only 
 child chanced to find that richest of all posses¬ 
 sions, happiness. 
 
 “Arthur,” asked his father suddenly, as the 
 boy and his mother entered the parlor, u what 
 do you want most in all the world ? ” 
 
 “ I don’t know that I want anything, papa,” 
 answered Arthur. “ Except, maybe,” he added 
 with a ghost of a smile, “ to get rid of some of 
 the things I have.” 
 
 “ When I was of your age,” the banker went 
 on, “there was just one thing I wanted above 
 everything else on earth, and I could n’t have 
 it. I thought of it this morning — and I stepped 
 around and ordered it sent up to you ! ” 
 
 Arthur did n’t express the least interest. 
 
 His father looked disappointed, but went on. 
 
THE BIG BEN FRANKLIN PRESS. 3 
 
 “ It will be here in a few minutes. Can yon 
 guess what it is ? ” 
 
 “ No ; of course not,” Arthur replied, with a 
 listless air. 
 
 “ But you might make one guess at least, to 
 please your father,” suggested Mrs. Colton, 
 gently. 
 
 “ Oh, well, then, I guess an air-gun.” 
 
 “You know you have an air-gun already, 
 Arthur! ” 
 
 “ Yes, papa, and so I have everything else 
 that I can think of.” 
 
 A maid came to the door. 
 
 “ The expressman, mum; and it’s a big thing 
 they have — where will you want it put, 
 mum ? ” 
 
 “ Have it carried to my study, for the pres¬ 
 ent,” said Mr. Colton, rising. “ Come, Arthur; 
 come, mother! ” 
 
 It was indeed a “big thing” they found in the 
 study, with two expressmen puffing over it. 
 Besides, there were several large boxes and a 
 chest of little drawers. Dismissing the men, 
 Mr. Colton turned on a blaze of light, and pro¬ 
 ceeded briskly to remove the wrappings. 
 
 There was a final cut of a cord, with a great 
 rustle a lot of brown paper and excelsior fell to 
 the floor—and there stood disclosed a printing- 
 press, almost as tall as Arthur himself. It glis- 
 
4 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 * 
 
 tenecl with gay paint, and its new steel surfaces 
 flashed brightly. 
 
 “ All ready for working,” cried Mr. Colton, 
 gleefully. “ And Ben Franklin himself never 
 had such a fine press as that — it’s called the 
 Ben Franklin, by the way ! ” 
 
 “ Why don’t you take hold of the handle and 
 make it go, Arthur? ” asked Mrs. Colton. 
 
 “ There’s nothing in it yet to print,” objected 
 Arthur, who had been sitting stretched out on 
 a chair, watching his father through half-shut 
 eyes. 
 
 Just then the dinner-bell rang, and Mr. 
 Colton, rather discouraged, turned away with¬ 
 out a word. 
 
 But after dinner he returned to his ungrate¬ 
 ful task, and tried hard to interest his son, 
 calling Arthur’s tutor to his aid. Mr. Augus¬ 
 tine Drayton was a very serious-minded young 
 man, a doctor of philosophy, and deeply inter¬ 
 ested in the dead languages. He aspired to a 
 college professorship, but at present was com¬ 
 pelled to make his living by tutoring. He had 
 no liking for boys, and though he did his work 
 conscientiously, he was vastly bored by it. He 
 stood by the new press, nearly as listless as 
 Arthur, wishing himself upstairs with his 
 Thucydides. 
 
 He presently roused, however, and joined in 
 
THE BIG BEN FRANKLIN PRESS. 5 
 
 the banker’s efforts. They daubed the ink on 
 the ink-plate, and worked the lever till it was 
 evenly distributed, in a black, glossy sheet, over 
 which the smooth roller glided oilily. Together, 
 while Arthur stood by, they unpacked the shin¬ 
 ing type and put the letters in the proper boxes 
 of the fresh, clean printer’s cases, consulting an 
 encyclopedia to find the right compartments. 
 Then the two men took turns with the compos¬ 
 ing stick, and “set up ” some verse — Longfel¬ 
 low’s “ Excelsior.” They fastened the completed 
 poem into the “ chase,” fixed it on the press, 
 and drew off some copies on the best paper Mr. 
 Colton had in his desk. 
 
 Arthur’s father had enjoyed it all as if he had 
 returned to his boyhood days, and the tutor 
 got somewhat interested; but Arthur had 
 offered to take little part. At his mother’s wish 
 he had put a few types into their boxes and “ set 
 up ” a line of “ Excelsior.” His father told him 
 to “ pull a proof,” and so he took hold of the 
 lever and drew it, but scarcely glanced at the 
 copy of the poem he had printed himself. 
 
 “Well, papa,” he said at last, “I guess I’ll 
 go up to bed. We ’ve tried the press enough, 
 have n’t we ? ” 
 
 Mr. Colton looked up in surprise from the 
 proof he was correcting. He had put into type 
 the first paragraph of the Declaration of Inde- 
 
6 
 
 THE C AXT ON CLUB. 
 
 penclence, u just to try his hand on prose.” It 
 was so enjoyable that really he had scarcely 
 noticed how little interest Arthur was taking. 
 
 “ Why, Arthur ! ” he exclaimed, “ I don’t 
 believe you are having half so good a time as I 
 am ! What do you want, anyway ? ” 
 
 Arthur looked away for a minute, and then 
 the tears came up in his eyes. 
 
 “ You ’re as good as you can be, papa,” he said 
 at last, really stirred. “ I’m not ungrateful; 
 and if you don’t mind, I think there is one thing 
 I want. I — want — a — chum ! ” 
 
AN INTERESTING BOY. 
 
 7 
 
 II. 
 
 AN INTERESTING BOY. 
 
 “ I believe he’s right! ” 
 
 Mr. Colton said this to his wife after Arthur 
 had gone to bed and Mr. Augustine Drayton 
 had retired thankfully to his Thucydides. 
 
 “ But it seems rather hard,” Mrs. Colton 
 laughingly objected, u after you have done so 
 much for him, made yourself his playmate, 
 really devoted yourself to his smallest whim.” 
 
 “ Perhaps I made my mistake right there,” 
 said Mr. Colton. “ Perhaps it would have been 
 better to let him do more for himself. Any¬ 
 way, I ’m pretty sure lie has hit his need — a real 
 live boy to play with and work with, instead of 
 a middle-aged banker with a bald head.” 
 
 Mr. Colton was a man of business, and when 
 he saw a thing ought to be done he did it at 
 once. Only two nights thereafter, while Mr. 
 Colton was reading in his study, and his wife, 
 sitting near, was playing a game of checkers 
 with her son, there came a ring at the front door¬ 
 bell, and the maid announced, “ A boy to see 
 Master Arthur ! ” 
 
8 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 This in itself was a surprise. The like had 
 never happened before. 
 
 “A boy to see me?” exclaimed Arthur, 
 jumping up, while the checkers rolled in every 
 direction. “What can he want? Where shall 
 I see him, papa ? ” 
 
 “ In the parlor,” Mr. Colton answered, his 
 eyes twinkling at his wife’s surprise and his 
 boy’s eagerness. “ And if it is some one come 
 to stay awhile, you might take him’ up to your 
 room.” 
 
 Arthur found awaiting him in the parlor a 
 manly lad, a little older than himself. He did 
 not appear quite at his ease,— perhaps he had 
 never been in so elegant a room before,— but 
 his brown eyes looked Arthur straight in the 
 face as he rose to introduce himself. 
 
 “ I’m Ben Earle,” he said, “ and your father 
 told me you had a new printing-press and he’d 
 like me to give you some points about how to 
 use it. I ’ll be glad to, if you want me to, for 
 my father is a printer and I ’ve worked with 
 type since I was a baby.” 
 
 “ Indeed I ’d be glad ! ” answered Arthur, 
 heartily. “ In fact, for a long while I’ve been 
 just spoiling for some other fellow to do things 
 with.” 
 
 “ Mr. Colton said you were n’t very strong 
 and did n’t go out much,” Ben said. “ But now 
 
AN INTERESTING BOY. 
 
 9 
 
 what is it you particularly want to know about 
 your press ? ” 
 
 “Everything,” laughed Arthur. “I never 
 touched one before. But you can’t show me 
 about it down here. Come up to my room, 
 won’t you ? ” 
 
 They mounted the broad stairs, therefore, and 
 came to an apartment such as Ben had never even 
 imagined. A great contrast it was to his own 
 small, bare bed-chamber at home ! It was very 
 large — the press seemed to take up no space 
 at all — and the bed stood in a recess, so that a 
 great deal of room was left for Arthur’s many 
 belongings. On the polished floor lay the soft¬ 
 est of rugs, and on the wall were the merriest 
 of paintings — frisky dogs, comical cats, clowns, 
 courts of monkeys, as well as a beautiful land¬ 
 scape or two. There were several bookcases, 
 stocked with such an array of volumes as made 
 Ben look with longing eyes; and everywhere 
 there were toys —■ mechanical toys, grotesque 
 toys, handsome toys, instructive toys, and 
 toys u just for fun.” Games galore. Indoor 
 tennis, indoor croquet, indoor archery, every¬ 
 thing indoor that you could think of. 
 
 Ben drew a long breath. 
 
 “My!” he exclaimed. “You must have 
 larks in such a room as this, even if you are n’t 
 very well! ” 
 
10 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 “ Larks ! ” answered Arthur. “ You don’t 
 know. Why, I Ve been miserable most of the 
 time ever since I can remember! ” 
 
 Ben thought he meant that he was nearly 
 always sick, and remained sympathetically silent. 
 
 In a good place on the polished floor, right in 
 the big bay window, stood the shining new press, 
 with its cases of type beside it. Ben went over 
 to it at once. 
 
 “What a beauty!” he cried. “And how 
 big! And a Ben Franklin, too. That’s the best 
 make. And, do you know, that’s my name, 
 too: Benjamin Franklin Earle. I’m very proud 
 of it.” 
 
 “ I should be, if I had it,” said Arthur, regret¬ 
 fully. 
 
 “You?” exclaimed Ben. “Why, yours is 
 much finer — to be named after one of the 
 noblest kings that ever lived! You ought to 
 get some knights together ! And you ought to 
 have a Bound Table ! ” 
 
 “ I never thought of my name before as stand¬ 
 ing for anything,” said Arthur. “ I know what 
 you mean, though.” 
 
 Ben went all over the new press with enthu¬ 
 siasm, praising this part and showing its special 
 excellence, pointing out the use of that part, 
 making the whole machine very important and 
 interesting in its owner’s eyes. In fact, Ben was 
 
AN INTERESTING BOY . 
 
 11 
 
 an enthusiast in the splendid art of the printer. 
 His father was foreman in the large office of the 
 town paper, the leading paper of the county, 
 The Gardner Graphic. He explained to Arthur 
 many of the fascinating details of the work: 
 how to hold the “ composing-stick ” — the steel 
 box in which the type is “set up; ” how to use 
 an “ ern quad ” in paragraphing ; how to “ space 
 out ” lines so that they would just fill the com¬ 
 posing-stick, and b.e neither too tight to slip out 
 easily nor so loose as to “pi; ” how to “make 
 up forms ” —- that is, how to arrange his 
 “ sticks ” of type in the iron frame (the 
 “chase”) with “column rules” and “head 
 rules ” so as to make a page, and how to “ lock 
 it in ” with the ingenious “ quoins ” so that the 
 page became a compact whole ; how to pad out 
 the “ tympan ” on which the blank paper was 
 placed, so as to get a good “ impression; ” how 
 to regulate the ink-rollers; how to correct a 
 proof; how, in short, to “ turn out a good job.” 
 
 That was one of Ben’s favorite expressions, 
 “ turn out a good job,” and Arthur soon caught 
 his spirit, and came to understand and feel some¬ 
 thing of the pleasure there is in doing any sen¬ 
 sible piece of work, and doing it in workmanlike 
 fashion. 
 
 It was at the close of this most delightful 
 evening that Ben proposed the Great Plan. 
 
12 
 
 THE C AXT ON CLUB. 
 
 He had started to go several times, but 
 Arthur, with eagerness, had insisted on his 
 staying while they set up “ just one thing 
 more.” They had printed part of Arthur’s fa¬ 
 vorite poem, “ The Charge of the Light Brigade,” 
 and part of Ben’s, “ The Psalm of Life; ” also a 
 page of brief quotations with a neat border 
 around it. They had paused at this point, and 
 Arthur had proposed that they print a paper, 
 when the Great Plan popped into Ben’s head. 
 
 I will tell you how it was announced down¬ 
 stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Colton, still sitting in the study with her 
 husband, had said for the tenth time, “I do 
 wonder how the boys are getting along ! ” 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Mr. Colton, “ whether 
 
 Arthur is bored ! ” 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Mrs. Colton, “ whether that 
 Ben Earle is the right kind of boy for Arthur to 
 be with ! ” 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Mr. Colton, “ whether 
 
 Arthur is treating him politely ! ” 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Mrs. Colton, “ whether 
 
 Arthur is n’t getting all tired out! ” 
 
 “ I wonder,” said Mr. Colton, “ whether 
 
 Arthur is becoming interested in that printing- 
 press ! ” 
 
 It was at this point that the two in the study 
 heard swift steps on the stairs, and Arthur burst 
 
AN INTERESTING BOY. 
 
 13 
 
 into the room, his eyes shining, his hearing alert, 
 his entire appearance transformed. After him, 
 more sedately, came Ben. 
 
 “ Oh, mamma! ” cried Arthur, interrupting 
 the greetings ; u oh, papa ! Ben has just the finest 
 scheme ! And may I go into it ? He’s print¬ 
 ing a paper, and he knows another fellow who’s 
 printing a paper, and I could print a paper, and 
 he says if you ’re willing we three could form 
 a club together. And you ’re willing, are n’t 
 you ? ” 
 
14 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB . 
 
 III. 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB IS FORMED. 
 
 Arthur’s interest in the idea of printing a 
 paper grew greater instead of less, and tlie very 
 next day he asked his mother’s permission to visit 
 Ben, and go with him to see the third boy of the 
 proposed printers’ club, — it being Saturday, 
 Ben would not be in school, — and getting the 
 permission, he rushed out of the house much like 
 any other boy. 
 
 The Earles lived in a plain cottage, on a side 
 street of the pretty college town. Mr. Earle 
 had not yet returned from his day’s work at the 
 Gardner Graphic office, but Mrs. Earle was 
 there, a kindly-faced, motherly woman; also 
 Ben’s sister Kate, of about Arthur’s age, as 
 bright a lassie as one would find in a day’s 
 journey. 
 
 Ben took Arthur up into his own room. 
 
 “Not much like yours,” he said; and indeed 
 it was n’t. 
 
 Everything was orderly and wonderfully neat, 
 but to Arthur’s eye the room seemed bare and 
 cold. The wall was white, but not papered. 
 
THE CAXTON CLUB IS FORMED. 15 
 
 The one table was of pine, and not covered. 
 There was a square of worn carpet in the centre 
 of the floor, and upon the wall were a few pict¬ 
 ures of great men that Ben had cut from 
 illustrated papers — Washington, Lincoln, and 
 Franklin being conspicuous among them. 
 
 “ You must see my books,” said Ben. “ They 
 are not very many, but I get lots out of them.” 
 
 There were only three shelves full — home¬ 
 made shelves at that, but the books were beautb 
 fully kept, and Ben evidently knew all about 
 them. 
 
 u Have you read this ? ” he asked, taking down 
 Franklin’s autobiography. 
 
 No. Arthur had it, and in an elegant leather 
 binding, but he had n’t read it. “ I thought it 
 would be dull,” he said. 
 
 “Dull? Just read this page! And here! 
 And here ! ” Arthur read, and saw that these 
 favorite passages of Ben’s were full of sprightli- 
 liness and quaint good sense. 
 
 In that fashion Ben took Arthur through his 
 library. He had “Ivanhoe ” and “ Kenilworth ” 
 and “ Quentin Durward,” he had Tennyson and 
 Longfellow and Shakespeare, he had Green’s 
 “England” and Ridpath’s “United States,” he 
 had Irving’s Lives of Washington and Colum¬ 
 bus, and he was especially proud of a good 
 encyclopedia. Of course he had a Bible, and he 
 
16 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 kept next to it a copy of Bunyan’s “ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress.” 
 
 “ Of course you 'll have to excuse me,” said 
 Ben, after a while. “ I never know when to stop 
 when I get to talking about books, and you 
 have so many — my talk must be an old story 
 to you.” 
 
 “ I have the books,” answered Arthur, “ but 
 you are the one who has the knowledge of them. 
 I have n’t read anything at all compared with 
 you.” 
 
 “ I must show you my collections,” said Ben. 
 
 They were well worth seeing, for Ben was a 
 diligent collector of many things worth collect¬ 
 ing as well as of a few things not worth it. 
 Through his father’s position on The Gardner 
 Graphic he had a fine chance to gather postage 
 stamps and post-marks, and he had improved 
 his opportunity. He could talk about Servia 
 and Roumania, about Natal and Korea and 
 Trinidad. He had an excellent collection of 
 Indian arrow-heads, hammers, pestles, mortars, 
 tomahawks, picked up in the fields. Gardner is in 
 a part of Ohio that abounds in fossils, and Ben 
 could show shelf after shelf of these wonderful 
 petrified animals, whose scientific names he had 
 obtained from various college professors,— he 
 could rattle them off by the dozen. He raised 
 butterflies from the larvae and had scores of 
 
THE CAXTON CLUB IS FORMED. 17 
 
 cigar boxes filled with lovely painted creatures. 
 He was especially interested in snail shells, and 
 had brought together, he was proud to tell 
 Arthur, specimens of all the Gardner snails 
 they could show at the college. Helix albolabris , 
 Helix tridentata , Helix hirsuta — they were all 
 neatly labelled. 
 
 This was a new world to Arthur, a world of 
 active, original sport, sport that stood for some¬ 
 thing. It was quite different from the ready¬ 
 made, patented games with which he had been 
 trying all his life to amuse himself! He drew 
 a big sigh of delight and admiration with every 
 fresh exhibit. Ben became in his eyes a marvel 
 of knowledge and industry; though, really, he 
 was only a bright, ordinary American boy. 
 
 Of a sudden Arthur bethought himself of the 
 purpose for which he had come. 
 
 “Where is it?” he asked. “Where is your 
 press ? And how about that other boy printer 
 — can’t we see him to-day? ” 
 
 “ Press ? ” laughed Ben. “ Did you think 
 I had a press ? Why, I can’t afford a press. 
 There’s a little job press at the Graphic office 
 my father lets me use on Saturdays. I work 
 fast, and get my paper out on that. Yes, we can 
 go to Caspar’s. He has a press almost as fine 
 as yours ! ” 
 
 Caspar Grace was the son of the college presi- 
 
18 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 dent. The imposing buildings of Albemarle 
 College, in their roomy, leafy campus, stood not 
 far away. 
 
 44 1 always love to come here,” Ben said as they 
 entered the yard, 44 and I ’m going to the college, 
 too, some day, if I have to work ten years to 
 get the money.” 
 
 A shrill whistle from Ben, long drawn out 
 and rising and falling in a beautiful liquid way, 
 brought Caspar to an upper window and speedily 
 to the front door. 
 
 44 That’s our ‘flicker’ call,” Ben explained. 
 
 44 Flicker? ” asked Arthur. 
 
 44 Yes. The flicker is a kind of woodpecker 
 — a fine fellow. Don’t you know him ? I ’ll 
 introduce you some day. But first” — for 
 Caspar was now on hand — 44 let me introduce 
 you to Caspar Grace. This is Arthur Colton, 
 Caspar.” 
 
 Caspar proved to be a red-headed lad, of about 
 Arthur’s age. His eyes were of dancing blue, 
 and his mouth always wanted to smile. He was 
 seldom known to get angry, and though he was 
 not very studious himself, he had a deep respect 
 for Ben and his book knowledge. 
 
 44 You got just the right fellow,” he said to 
 Arthur, 44 to show you how to run your press. 
 What Ben does n’t know about printing is n’t 
 worth knowing.” 
 
THE CAXTON CLUB IS FORMED. 19 
 
 “ Fiddlesticks !” exclaimed Berr. “ My father 
 would n’t think of giving me any kind of posi¬ 
 tion in the Graphic office yet.” 
 
 Caspar led the way to his “ den,” as he called 
 it. Back of the large mansion was a spacious 
 barn, and in the loft a room had been fitted up 
 especially for the one boy of the family. It was 
 a delightful place, with the smell of the hay 
 coming through the door, and the lovely spring 
 sights and sounds and odors floating in through 
 two large windows. There were shelves every¬ 
 where, for Caspar was a collector as enthusiastic 
 as Ben, though far from Ben’s equal in thorough¬ 
 ness and painstaking. In the place of honor 
 stood a good-sized printing-press, somewhat 
 smaller, however, than Arthur’s magnificent 
 “ Ben Franklin,” and near the windows, where 
 they would get good light, were the cases of 
 type. 
 
 “ Behold,” said Caspar with a flourish, “the 
 editorial-rooms, composing-rooms, press-rooms, 
 and mailing-rooms of The Humbug! Take a 
 chair.” 
 
 The one chair was given to Arthur as the guest 
 of honor. 
 
 “And, by the way,” Ben asked, “what will 
 you call your paper, Arthur ? Mine is The 
 Learner. I’m not quite so frank in the title as 
 Caspar is.” 
 
20 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 “ I don’t know,” Arthur faltered. “ I ’ve 
 thought of a few names, but none of them suit 
 me. You see, I don’t know what sort of a thing 
 it will turn out to be, and I’m so much in doubt 
 that this morning I thought I’d just call it 
 The Query.” 
 
 “A capital name,” said Caspar. “You can 
 do anything you please under cover of that 
 name.” 
 
 u It’s a new name,” Ben added, “ and a 
 modest one, and I like it.” 
 
 Then the boys fell to discussing the proposed 
 club, and they grew very enthusiastic about it. 
 They could hold regular meetings to criticise 
 each other’s work. They could read books 
 about printing, a chapter at a meeting. They 
 could have discussions over the best editorial 
 methods. It would be great fun. 
 
 They decided that they did n’t want a con¬ 
 stitution. 
 
 “ Everybody says constitutions are a nui¬ 
 sance,” said Caspar, “ and I move we don’t have 
 one unless we find we have to.” 
 
 “ But we must have a president,” -said Ben, 
 u for we might want to pass a motion sometime, 
 and we’d need some one to put the question.” 
 
 So they chose Caspar president, because he 
 was the son of a real president. Then they 
 made Ben the secretary, because he could write 
 
THE CAXTON CLUB IS FORMED. 21 
 
 best, and Arthur the treasurer because his father 
 was a banker. 44 Though, for that matter,” 
 said Caspar, 44 our funds are n’t likely to drive a 
 hole in your pocket very soon ! 
 
 Then they fell to discussing the name; and 
 they found it hard to find a good one. They 
 discovered that their own names were an A, B, 
 C — Arthur, Ben, and Caspar — and came near 
 calling it 44 The Alphabet Club.” 
 
 44 That would n’t be a bad name,” declared 
 Arthur, “since we shall have so much to do 
 with the alphabet.” But the others thought it 
 sounded too much like primers. 
 
 44 The Scribblers,” 44 The Typos,” 44 The Com¬ 
 posing-stick Club,” were all proposed in turn, 
 only to be voted down unanimously. 
 
 At last, after they had been cudgelling their 
 brains for some time, a victorious thought came 
 to Ben. 44 Boys,” said he, 44 we have forgotten 
 the first English printer. Let’s call ourselves 
 The Caxton Club ! ” 
 
22 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB. 
 
 IV. 
 
 EDITORIAL TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS. 
 
 When Mr. Colton saw wliat a hold the new 
 employment was gaining upon his sickly boy, 
 how it was arousing him, and how much he was 
 enjoying the companionship of Ben and Caspar, 
 and what fine lads they were, and especially 
 when he learned that they had gone on and 
 organized a club, — when he realized all this, lie 
 was greatly pleased. So was Arthur’s mother. 
 And Mr. Augustine Drayton was also pleased, 
 because Arthur almost at once became more 
 interested in his lessons, and much more inter¬ 
 esting to teach. 
 
 So greatly delighted was Mr. Colton that he 
 presently sent for a carpenter and told him to meet 
 the Caxton Club and plan with them for a club¬ 
 house, to be built on the lawn back of his home. 
 
 Those were important meetings of the Caxton 
 Club, to be sure ! There were to be two rooms, one 
 for Arthur’s printing-office and one for the club- 
 room. * But which should be in front ? And 
 where should the windows be placed, and the 
 door ? How about the shelves ? Where to put 
 
EDITORIAL TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS. 23 
 
 the chimney ? What should be the sign over 
 the door? These are only a few of the great 
 questions the club had to settle. 
 
 But in the meantime, while the carpenter was 
 building this famous edifice, Arthur was not 
 neglecting his printing. Ah, no! That was 
 too satisfactory a pursuit to neglect for a day. 
 
 The first number of The Query cost him a 
 vast amount of toil. 
 
 44 At this rate,” he said, “it won’t be a weekly, 
 or even a monthly, — it ’ll be an annual! ” 
 
 For there was so much to learn! Mr. Augus¬ 
 tine Drayton found it necessary to turn with 
 his pupil from Greek grammar to modern Eng¬ 
 lish very often, for Arthur came almost every 
 hour with some eager question about proof-read¬ 
 ing. “Does the question point come after or 
 before the quotation marks ? Why do they 
 put a period after Roman numerals ? Should I 
 have a colon here, or only a semi-colon? Is it 
 better 4 St.’ or spelled out, 4 Street ’ ? ” A dozen 
 similar questions of good form and usage came 
 up every day. Arthur was catching Ben’s pas¬ 
 sion for thoroughness. 
 
 But proof-reading was easy compared with 
 type-setting. First, Arthur had to 44 learn the 
 case,” and he found it decidedly difficult to dive 
 into just the right little box for an m, an n, a u, 
 an exclamation point, or a figure 5. 
 
24 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 “ If they would only put the small letters in 
 alphabetical order, just like the capitals! ” lie 
 cried, until Ben showed him that would be im¬ 
 possible, because some of the small letters are used 
 so much more than others. The e-box, for in¬ 
 stance, must be six times as large as the j-box. 
 
 Perhaps the most difficult part of the type¬ 
 setting was taking the type from the “ com¬ 
 posing-stick ” and placing it in the “ chase.” 
 It needs a very delicate touch to get the lines 
 of a page equally tight in the composing-stick 
 and “ spaced out ” to just the right length, and 
 it needs a strong hand and a firm grasp to lift 
 fifteen lines or so, with their hundreds of little 
 bits of metal, and not drop one. And if one 
 falls, they are all likely to fall after it. How 
 Arthur envied the other two boys the easy skill 
 with which they performed this operation ! To 
 gain it cost him many a “ piece of pi.” 
 
 But if proof-reading was hard and type-setting 
 harder, the hardest of all was the printing. The 
 ink must be spread evenly on the roller. The 
 type must be exactly level. The paper must 
 not slip, and it must be well “ backed-up,” so 
 as to “take an even impression.” It must not blur. 
 It must be handled carefully, so as not to be 
 crumpled or soiled. It must not “ off-set; ” that is, 
 the fresh ink of one sheet must not print itself on 
 the blank page of the sheet laid on top of it. 
 
EDITORIAL TRIALS AND TRIUMPHS. 25 
 
 It was a proud moment when Arthur could 
 take the first number of The Query down into 
 the study and exhibit it. 
 
 “ Arthur, it is admirable,” said his father, 
 looking at his bright eyes and red cheeks. 
 
 “ My dear boy, it’s just splendid ! ” cried his 
 mother, smiling back to his smile. 
 
 44 A highly creditable production,” declared 
 Mr. Augustine Drayton, nodding at his exulting 
 pupil. 
 
 44 Tip-top ! ” said the other members of the 
 Caxton Club. 
 
 Really, for a first number, it was a good bit 
 of work, and I wish I could show you a copy 
 right here. But Arthur soon got to doing so 
 much better that he was ashamed of his earlier 
 efforts, and confiscated all he could lay hands 
 on. 
 
 When Arthur could print clean copies, he set 
 about obtaining subscribers for The Query. 
 This was not difficult, since the price was only 
 twenty-five cents a year, except for the fact 
 that Arthur at that time knew so very few per¬ 
 sons ; but all his household had to subscribe, 
 cook, coachman, gardener, waitress, and all. He 
 soon bethought himself to send 44 sample copies ” 
 to all his relatives, and at last he had a subscrip¬ 
 tion-list quite as large as that of The Humbug 
 or of The Learner. 
 
26 
 
 THE CAXT ON CLUB. 
 
 Soon after this important event — the regular 
 appearance of The Query — the Caxton Club 
 took possession of its club-house. Surely never 
 before did boys have such a charming meeting- 
 place. It was a neat one-story building, with a 
 sloping roof, an abundance of windows, a porch 
 before the door, and as it stood among trees it 
 was painted the gayest of reds. Inside, the 
 printing-office was fitted up with every necessity 
 of a first-class establishment, including an ex¬ 
 cellent assortment of the most useful kinds of 
 type, selected by Ben’s father. In the rear was 
 the club-room, brightly carpeted, and furnished 
 with a big round table, half a dozen chairs, a 
 desk, a book-case, and some attractive pictures. 
 
 On taking possession they had a little cele¬ 
 bration — not unmixed with cake and ice-cream. 
 But the best part of the celebration was some¬ 
 thing Arthur said to Ben. 
 
 “ I want you, old fellow,” said Arthur, u to 
 take this printing-shop in partnership with me, 
 and just use it as if it were your own. Here ’s 
 one of the keys to it; and you ’ll do it, won’t 
 you, and get out your paper on this press instead 
 of at the Grraphic office, and everything ? Come, 
 please say you will! ” 
 
 And by Arthur’s tone Ben knew that he 
 meant the offer with all his heart. 
 
27 
 
 “ WHO IS LEE BRANE?” 
 
 V. 
 
 “ WHO IS LEE BRANE ? ” 
 
 The Caxton Club had not long enjoyed its 
 fine quarters before it was confronted with a 
 genuine problem. It came up in this way. 
 
 “ Gentlemen,” said President Caspar, as the 
 three Avere seated at their round table looking 
 over the exchanges, “ I have to present to you 
 an application for membership.” 
 
 u What! ” exclaimed Arthur, quite forgetting 
 the proprieties of parliamentary law. “ Some one 
 wants to join the Caxton Club ? Who is it? ” 
 
 “ It’s Dick Grimes,” answered Caspar, sud¬ 
 denly descending from his presidential dignity. 
 
 “ Dick Grimes ! ” Ben exclaimed. “ Oh, he ’ll 
 never do ! ” 
 
 “ That’s what I thought; but he made me 
 promise to propose his name.” 
 
 “ What’s the matter with Dick Grimes ? ” 
 asked Arthur. “ Who is he, anyway ? ” 
 
 Caspar answered. “ He’s the son of Mr. 
 Grimes, the postmaster. He runs a paper, too. 
 He calls it The Herald — not a very bright name, 
 but as bright as he is. I don’t object to him 
 
28 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB. 
 
 because he is n’t bright, though, for I’m not 
 bright myself; but he’s a mean, underhand boy. 
 He plagues the girls, and he is ugly to the small 
 boys, and he plays silly tricks in school, and he 
 smokes cigarettes and — swears.” 
 
 “Well,” said Arthur with emphasis, “ the 
 Caxton Club does n’t want to have anything to 
 do with him.” 
 
 “ Of course not,” Ben agreed ; and Caspar was 
 authorized to give Dick the disagreeable infor¬ 
 mation. 
 
 “ He’d have added one more letter, though, to 
 our alphabet — A, Arthur ; B, Ben; C, Caspar; 
 D, Dick; ” said Caspar, half regretfully. 
 
 u No,” answered Ben, “for his real name is 
 R, Richard.” 
 
 “Then we ’ll not consider him,” said Caspar, 
 “at least, till we have filled up the alphabet 
 toR.” 
 
 That was what Caspar actually did tell Dick; 
 and the whole affair had some very exciting and 
 important results, which I shall relate farther on. 
 
 I said that when this question came up the 
 boys were sitting around the table in their club- 
 room, reading exchanges ; for both Ben’s Learner 
 and Caspar’s Humbug had a goodly list of papers 
 which they received in exchange, and Arthur 
 was not slow to imitate them and obtain an “ ex¬ 
 change list” of his own. 
 
29 
 
 “ WHO IS LEE BRANE?” 
 
 I wonder how many of my readers have ever 
 heard of the N.A.P.A. ? It will be necessary 
 for them to understand what that important or¬ 
 ganization is. 
 
 Be it known, therefore, that in these United 
 States are hundreds of boys, who, like our A, B, 
 C, are printing little papers, partly for fun and 
 partly for the training they thus get in the arts 
 of printing and writing. They call themselves 
 44 amateurs,” as distinguished from the 44 profes¬ 
 sionals ” who run papers for a livelihood. I 
 myself was an 44 amateur ” when a boy, and I am 
 now a 44 professional.” Scores of others have 
 taken the same course. 
 
 These hundreds of boys have organized them¬ 
 selves into the National Amateur Press Asso¬ 
 ciation, or N.A.P.A. This association lias 
 members all over the United States. It holds 
 national meetings, usually in some large city. 
 The boys attend, often in considerable numbers. 
 They listen to essays regarding their work, and 
 they hold profound discussions. Especially, they 
 elect their national officers. In preparation for 
 the latter event, the most animated debate has 
 been conducted during the preceding year by all 
 the amateur papers, each with its favorite candi¬ 
 date. Indeed, no sooner is one president installed 
 than the entire amateur world is at ears over the 
 question as to who shall be his successor. 
 
30 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 The Caxton Club had the pleasant habit of 
 meeting to open their week’s exchanges together. 
 What excitement there was as the three piles of 
 yellow-wrapped papers were laid on the table, 
 and one after another was freed from its crinkly 
 envelope! 
 
 “ Here’s a new one ! ” Caspar cried ; “ and — 
 of — all — things ! ” 
 
 He held up a tiny sheet, only three inches 
 square, — The Dot. 
 
 Each of the other boys found a copy among 
 his exchanges, marked with a blue X, which is 
 equivalent to a request for an exchange. 
 
 “ And here’s another new one ! ” shouted Ben. 
 “ A bright idea ! ” And he held up for admira¬ 
 tion a copy of The Brown Study, printed on brown 
 wrapping-paper, and full of funny sayings. 
 
 “ The Stylus ,” remarked Arthur, “ is larger 
 than usual this month.” He passed around his 
 copy of a paper which was the special delight of 
 all of them, for its elegant printing and the polish 
 and force of the editor’s writing. It was pub¬ 
 lished in Boston, and these Ohio boys looked 
 upon it as embodying all the literary glories of 
 the Modern Athens. 
 
 “ Splendid ! ” Caspar declared, examining it. 
 “ They are beginning to use illustrations, too. 
 What enterprise they have ! And they have an 
 article by Lee Brane! ” 
 
31 
 
 “ WHO IS LEE BRANE?” 
 
 “ Is that so ? ” Arthur asked. “ Let’s see it. 
 He’s the best writer in all the N.A.P.A., I 
 think. Don’t you, Ben ? ” 
 
 “No, indeed,” Ben answered. 
 
 “Well, I agree with Arthur,” said Caspar. 
 “ Lee Brane is always level-headed, and he al¬ 
 ways says something, and puts it in such a way 
 that you ’ll remember it. And he writes for so 
 many papers, too ! He must be an industrious 
 fellow.” 
 
 “ Here’s an editorial about him,” Arthur 
 said, glancing over a copy of The Illinois Item , 
 “ nominating him for president of the N.A.P.A. 
 He ’d make a good one. Why — why — why 
 — ee ! Just listen, fellows ! ” And Arthur read : 
 
 “We believe that in all the range of Ama- 
 teurdom no writer can be found who is the 
 equal of Lee Brane. The N.A.P.A. would 
 honor itself in honoring him. The professional 
 world will welcome him some day. The Item 
 is proud to be the first to put his name in nomi¬ 
 nation for presidency. Probably if he did not 
 live in the small and somewhat obscure town of 
 Gardner, Ohio, he would have been nominated 
 long ago by a dozen journals.” 
 
 “ There’s no one named Lee Brane in this 
 town ! ” declared Ben. 
 
 “No ; and so it must be a pen-name,” Caspar 
 thoughtfully added. “ Who can it be? ” 
 
32 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB. 
 
 “ It could n’t — it could n’t possibly be Dick 
 Grimes ? ” asked Arthur, anxiously. 
 
 u Absurd ! ” laughed Caspar. “ Why, Dick 
 could no more write one of Lee Brane’s articles 
 than he could eat his own head! ” That was a 
 favorite comparison of Caspar’s, and sufficiently 
 conclusive. 
 
 “ But there is no other boy in town running 
 an amateur paper, is there ? ” Arthur asked. 
 
 “ Not unless he’s doing it in secret,” answered 
 Caspar. “ See here ; I know the handwriting 
 of all the Gardner boys, and I’m going to write 
 and ask Lee Brane for an article. That may 
 give us a clew.” 
 
 “ I ’ll do the same,” said Arthur. 
 
 “ And I,” said Ben. 
 
 This they did ; and at the meeting of the club 
 a fortnight hence they all had manuscripts from 
 Lee Brane to exhibit. 
 
 And every word — even the name — was type¬ 
 written ! 
 
THE FEEBLE EFFORT. 
 
 33 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE FEEBLE EFFORT. 
 
 One Saturday afternoon Arthur was sitting 
 in his “ sanctum,” as he was fond of calling the 
 front room of the club-house, when there came 
 a modest tap at the door. On opening it, Arthur 
 found there a tiny old lady, whose face was 
 covered by a thick veil. 
 
 “ Is this the editor of The Query ? ” she 
 asked, in a quavering voice. 
 
 “ I am the editor of The Query” Arthur 
 replied, with sudden dignity. “Walk in, 
 please.” 
 
 The little old lady entered and took the chair 
 that Arthur politely handed her. Then she 
 fumbled in a small, old-fashioned reticule and 
 brought out a neatly folded sheet of paper. 
 
 “ I have a little poem here,” she said, “ which 
 I wrote myself. I am a poetess, you know. You 
 have heard of me, have n’t you, sir ? ” 
 
 Arthur never had, but he was too polite to 
 say so, and so stammered and grew red in the 
 face. But the little old lady went on without 
 noticing him. 
 
34 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 “ The critics say that my recent poems have 
 been very fine. You think so, don’t you, sir? ” 
 
 Arthur was more embarrassed than before, 
 but his visitor went serenely on. 
 
 “ This poem is on spring. The lovely violets 
 suggested it. Have you seen any violets yet, 
 sir?” 
 
 Arthur was glad to be able to say that he had. 
 
 “ Then you will understand what a gush of 
 feeling came over me when I saw the first 
 spring violets. So I wrote this poem. May I 
 read it to you, sir?” 
 
 “ Certainly,” said polite Arthur. 
 
 The poetess cleared her throat and began : 
 
 POEM ON SPRING. 
 
 u 0 lovely Spring, with violets and such, 
 
 With dandelions, buttercups, and Dutch- 
 Man’s breeches, and with balmy breezes too, 
 
 I take my pen in hand to write on you, 
 
 0 lovely Spring! 
 
 “ 0 lovely Spring, so beautiful and fair, 
 
 With clover, cowslip, cress, and maidenhair. 
 
 The cows are happy, hear their gentle moos ; 
 
 Both they and I of all the seasons choose 
 You, lovely Spring! 
 
 u 0 lovely Spring, praised up by every tongue, 
 
 By Milton, Lowell, me, and Shakespeare sung, 
 
 How very proud and thankful you must be, 
 
 Especially to be writ up by me, 
 
 O lovely spring ! ” 
 
THE FEEBLE EFFORT. 
 
 35 
 
 “Isn’t that be-e-etmtiful ? ” asked the little 
 old lady, looking up. 
 
 Arthur was choking with silent laughter, hut 
 this question sobered him. What should he 
 say ? Luckily, the poetess did n’t pause for him 
 to say anything. 
 
 “ Of course you want to print it in The 
 Query” she said, “ and I ’ll let you. And I won’t 
 charge you anything for it, as I understand that 
 you are just beginning, and I like to help begin¬ 
 ners along. Of course, you realize that it gives 
 quite a reputation to a paper to publish one of 
 my pieces.” 
 
 “Does it?” the editor of The Query man¬ 
 aged to say. 
 
 “ Of course it does! ” the visitor answered 
 sternly. 
 
 But Arthur had a bright idea. “If you will 
 please put your address on the poem,” he said, 
 “ I will look it over carefully, and I will return 
 it promptly if I see that I cannot find space for it.” 
 
 “ Oh, but you ’ll make room for it! ” answered 
 the old lady. However, she wrote upon the 
 manuscript with a stubby pencil, made a funny 
 little courtesy, and trotted away. 
 
 Not long afterward the rest of the Caxton 
 Club came in, and Arthur in high glee told his 
 experience. “ My first spring poet! ” he crowed. 
 “ But I slid her out neatly, did n’t I ? ” 
 
86 
 
 THE C A XTON CLUB. 
 
 “ An editor of twenty years’ standing couldn’t 
 have done it better,” answered Ben. 
 
 “ Read the poem,” Caspar demanded, and 
 chuckled over the verses as Arthur read them. 
 
 “ What’s her name ? ” asked both the boys 
 at the close. 
 
 Arthur looked at the pencilled words, and 
 burst into a shout of merriment. 
 
 “Sold! Sold! ” he cried. “And who would 
 ever have thought it of her?” 
 
 On the manuscript was written simply, “ Kate 
 Earle, April 1.” 
 
 “Well,” said Ben and Caspar, “Kate has 
 fooled us, as well as you. We’ve been playing 
 April-fool tricks all day, but we never once sus¬ 
 pected this! We saw her as she came out of 
 the grounds.” 
 
 Kate Earle was a very bright sister to have. 
 Ben thought so, and it was not long before he 
 brought before the Caxton Club another evi¬ 
 dence of her brightness. 
 
 It seems that Kate had asked him one day, 
 jestingly, why there were no girls in the club; 
 and he had answered, half in fun and half in 
 earnest, that girls could n’t get out a paper, and 
 it would be a feeble effort if they did. 
 
 In high glee, therefore, Ben exhibited at one 
 of the club’s Saturday councils a copy of what 
 he called a “ brand-new exchange.” 
 
THE FEEBLE EFFORT. 
 
 37 
 
 “ 1 ’m ahead of you here, fellows,” he boasted. 
 “ You can’t get this on your exchange list, for 
 there’s only one copy printed, and The Learner 
 is proud to have that.” 
 
 Accordingly he placed before Arthur and 
 Caspar the new journal. 
 
 THE FEEBLE EFFORT. 
 
 Vol. 1. Gardner, 0., April 22, 1890. No. 1. 
 
 Introductory. 
 
 This journal is a feeble effort. It 
 does not pretend to be anything else; and 
 it does not suppose it possible to be any¬ 
 thing else. For it is edited by a girl. 
 
 In its poor, feeble way, it will look 
 at events and things, and give its opinion 
 upon them with what force it can muster. 
 
 It has no fighting editor, for girls 
 cannot bear arms. And no managing editor, 
 for girls cannot manage. And no sporting 
 editor, for girls know nothing about horse 
 races and prize fights. And no editor-in- 
 chief, for how could a girl be anything but 
 a subordinate? 
 
 It has not got it through its feeble 
 intellect just how it is to be edited, but 
 in some insipid way or other it will appear 
 monthly, or as near monthly as the maker of 
 The Feeble Effort can manage it. 
 
 KATE EARLE. 
 
 That was the introduction, and the rest of the 
 
38 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 paper corresponded. It was witty and sharp, 
 sensible and forcible, and was altogether a piece 
 of excellent writing for such a young girl. It 
 was all typewritten, for Kate had access to no 
 printing-press, but her father let her use his 
 typewriter. It was complete, with editorials, 
 contributed articles, departments, news items, 
 and advertisements. In short, The Feeble Fffort 
 was anything but feeble. 
 
 “ Kate ought to be a member of the Caxton 
 Club! ” cried Arthur. 
 
 “ If she only had a press, what an editor she 
 would be ! ” cried Caspar. 
 
 It was not long before, in the upsetting of the 
 affairs of the club about which I shall have to 
 tell you, Kate found a place, and filled it well. 
 For now I must hurry on to a series of exciting 
 events, that changed the lives of all my three 
 heroes and entirely revolutionized the Caxton 
 Club. 
 
THE GREAT JOURNALISTIC TRUST. 39 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE GREAT JOURNALISTIC TRUST. 
 
 Dick Grimes was not a boy that coulcl be 
 slighted with safety. His father, you will re¬ 
 member, was the village postmaster, and he was 
 as revengeful as his son. When Dick told him 
 of his rejection by the Caxton Club, Mr. Grimes 
 was furious. “ I ’ll fix these boys ! ” he declared, 
 with an ugly smile. 
 
 And he did, in a way they little expected. 
 
 The members of the Caxton Club assembled 
 one Saturday afternoon with wrath and dismtiy 
 upon their faces. Each had a letter in his hand, 
 a communication marked “Official Business,” 
 from the postmaster. Arthur’s letter was a curt 
 refusal of his recent request to be admitted to 
 the privileges of second-class mail matter. Ben’s, 
 and Caspar’s also, was an equally curt statement 
 that The Humbug and The Learner would no 
 longer be considered eligible under the same 
 class. 
 
 “ Second-class rates ” are the very low rates 
 of one cent a pound, granted to publishers upon 
 their periodicals. Newspapers that are not given 
 
40 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 these “pound rates” must be paid for at the 
 much higher rate of one cent for each four 
 ounces. 
 
 “ I Ve been to see him,” said Arthur. 
 
 “ So’ve I.” 
 
 “ And I.” 
 
 “ He showed me a letter from the third assist¬ 
 ant postmaster-general at Washington, saying 
 that our subscription lists were too small, and 
 the number of free copies too large, to warrant 
 putting us in the second class.” 
 
 “ Showed it to me.” 
 
 “ And me.” 
 
 “Of course the Washington authorities based 
 their decision on what Mr. Grimes chose to tell 
 them,” said Caspar. 
 
 “ Why shouldn’t we write to the third assist¬ 
 ant postmaster-general, and protest ? ” Arthur 
 asked. 
 
 “ What good would it do ? ” Ben inquired. “ I 
 suppose it’s true that we have only a few sub¬ 
 scribers and a lot of free copies, exchanges and 
 so on. What I don’t like is drawing the line 
 on us just for spite. Every other amateur 
 paper in the country is carried at the pound 
 rate.” 
 
 That was the sting. Mr. Grimes had not 
 damaged the boys much in their pocketbooks, 
 for the difference in postage would be little on 
 
THE GREAT JOURNALISTIC TRUST. 41 
 
 tlieir tiny editions; but he had hurt them sorely 
 in their journalistic pride. It means much to an 
 44 amateur,” a member of the N.A.P.A., that he 
 is able to print on his front page, just like The 
 Tribune or The Herald: 
 
 44 Entered as second-class mail matter at the 
 post-office at Gardner, O.” 
 
 And really, since the supposedly low news¬ 
 paper rates were established to aid the education 
 of the people, there is no reason why they should 
 not be granted to boys’ papers, in spite of their 
 small subscription lists and large exchange lists. 
 They are as able an aid to education, I am sure, 
 at least for boys, as half the newspapers that 
 enjoy the 44 pound rates ” without question ! 
 
 44 What we need to do,” said Ben, after they 
 had talked over the matter angrily for some time, 
 44 is to get larger subscription lists. Then we 
 could appeal to Washington and gain the day.” 
 
 44 But how can we get larger subscription 
 lists ? ” asked Caspar. 44 1’m sure I can’t bully 
 any one else into taking The Humbug .” 
 
 44 And I can’t persuade any one else to take 
 The Query” sighed Arthur, 44 except as a gift; 
 and that would n’t mend matters.” 
 
 Then it was that Ben proposed the Great 
 Journalistic Trust. 
 
 44 1 ’ye been thinking for some time, boys,” he 
 said, 44 that it would be a capital plan for us to 
 
42 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 combine forces, subscription lists and all, and 
 publish only one paper. We could make it shine, 
 among us.” 
 
 “ Hurrah ! Hurrah! ” shouted Arthur and 
 Caspar, waving sheets of paper at the editor of 
 The Learner. “ Great mind, Ben ! ” 
 
 The idea was entertained with increasing en- 
 thusiasin the more the boys discussed it. 
 
 “We could make it eight pages ! ” 
 
 u We could have a picture every month ! ” 
 
 “We could get contributions that would 
 count!” 
 
 “We could be an influence in the N.A.P.A.” 
 
 “ And in the town ! ” 
 
 “Boys,” said Ben at that, his eyes eager, “I 
 think that ’« what we want to look after — to 
 be an influence in the town! I have read that 
 the papers that succeed are those that set out 
 to do things. Now, if we really try to accom¬ 
 plish something here in Gardner, people will be¬ 
 gin to talk about the paper, and then they ’ll 
 begin to subscribe for it.” 
 
 “ And there are enough things in Gardner 
 that need reforming, I ’m sure,” remarked Caspar. 
 
 Then Arthur made his great contribution. 
 “Why not call it The Reformer?” he asked. 
 
 “ The very name ! ” Ben cried. “ I’ve been 
 trying to think of a good name, and you’ve just 
 hit it! ” 
 
THE GREAT JOURNALISTIC TRUST. 43 
 
 Arthur beamed with pride, and ventured an¬ 
 other suggestion: 
 
 “ Then why not add Kate to our list of edi¬ 
 tors ? She could n’t set type, I suppose, though 
 I ’m not so sure of that, either; but she can 
 write capitally.” 
 
 “ And she can get subscribers,” added Cas¬ 
 par. 
 
 u It’s a vote ! ” declared Arthur, quite for- 
 gotting that he was n’t the president of the 
 club. 
 
 Thus another important matter was settled, 
 and Kate Earle became the fourth member. 
 
 u Only it’s too bad you are not a D,” said 
 Caspar, at the first meeting when Editor Kate 
 was present. 
 
 “ I am a D,” Kate answered brightly; “Cath¬ 
 erine Davenport Earle ! ” 
 
44 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE REFORM CAMPAIGN. 
 
 The plans of the Caxton Club met with 
 prompt success. The very name of the new 
 paper was so audacious that it won people’s 
 attention. 
 
 A great many laughed at it. “ Those boys 
 are delightfully conceited,” they said, “ to be set¬ 
 ting themselves up as reformers ! ” 
 
 The criticism was a just one, as the Club 
 found out by a bitter experience. 
 
 However, there were really many points in 
 the village life of Gardner that needed improve¬ 
 ment, and the boys — and the girl — wrote con¬ 
 cerning them vigorously. They had the good 
 sense to ask the advice and win the cooperation 
 of their elders. Mr. Colton joined the editorial 
 conferences now and then, and the boys found 
 in him a very practical assistant. 
 
 “ Take the streets of Gardner,” said he, at the 
 start. “ Why, they are in a disgraceful condi¬ 
 tion. Great ruts are everywhere, the gutters are 
 waist-high with weeds, the roads are unsafe for 
 bicycles and very uncomfortable for carriages.” 
 
THE REFORM CAMPAIGN. 
 
 45 
 
 At his suggestion the boys interviewed a 
 dozen of the leading men of the place and got 
 their opinions about the Gardner streets, also 
 their recommendations for improvements. Then 
 the Caxton Club devoted the entire first number 
 of The Reformer to the subject, quoting largely 
 from authorities on roadmaking, and backing up 
 their statements with the interviews. 
 
 The Grardner Grraphie was owned by Mr. 
 Grimes and one or two other men like him — men 
 who “ ran ” the politics of the town, and largely 
 profited from the lax management of public af¬ 
 fairs. Gardner, therefore, had never before been 
 treated to any frank and fearless discussion of 
 the question of good roads, and the whole town 
 thoroughly enjoyed the novelty. 
 
 “ Seen what the boys are up to?” was the 
 question at the groceries, the drug stores, the 
 railroad station, and the post-office, wherever 
 men were in the habit of lounging. 
 
 Then the speaker would produce from his 
 pocket a worn copy of The Reformer , Vol. I., 
 No. 1, and read a paragraph from some bright 
 editorial, or the opinion of the Methodist min¬ 
 ister, or the sarcastic remark of President Grace, 
 all “ giving it ” to the village street commis¬ 
 sioners. Every one likes to read what is bold, 
 positive, determined — writing that has a cour¬ 
 ageous purpose back of it; and it is safe to say 
 
46 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB . 
 
 that every adult in Gardner read that number 
 of the The Reformer. 
 
 For the Caxton Club sent out sample num¬ 
 bers freely, instructing Mr. Grimes (who was 
 sour enough about it) to put a copy in every 
 box in the post-office. He was sharp enough in 
 turn about the one-cent stamp on every copy of 
 the paper ; but the club expected to get its money 
 back in subscriptions. 
 
 It was not long before Kate was unanimously 
 chosen subscription agent of the new venture. 
 Elated at her election to the club, that lassie 
 was bent on being of service. She carried a 
 copy of The Reformer with her wherever she 
 went, and “ tackled ” as the boys called it, 
 “ every man, woman, child, and cow on the 
 street.” Her face was so bright and her argu¬ 
 ments were so ready, and, best of all, the paper 
 itself was so good, that the quarter-dollars flew 
 out of pockets, and every week she handed over 
 to Treasurer Colton a goodly sum. 
 
 The second number of The Reformer took for 
 its subject a matter which was agreed upon by 
 the club only after long discussion — the vil¬ 
 lage post-office, and the way it was conducted. 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes will say we did it out of 
 revenge,” was Ben’s warning. 
 
 “ Well, let him,” answered Caspar ; “ there is 
 a little revenge in it, I admit, but we have a 
 
THE REFORM CAMPAIGN. 
 
 47 
 
 right to he indignant at him. And, any way, 
 the post-office is run so poorly that we should 
 have had to take it up even if Mr. Grimes had 
 treated us decently.” 
 
 So at last they decided to carry the war into 
 this domain of Uncle Sam’s, though I think 
 that none of them felt quite easy in mind about 
 it, and all of them feared it would have the 
 aspect of mere revenge. The result quite justi¬ 
 fied their uneasiness. 
 
 But this second issue was a good number, 
 even better than the first. The Gardner post- 
 office certainly was in a bad condition. For 
 years it had been looked upon as the spoils of 
 party victories. If the Republicans elected a 
 president, the Democratic postmaster was routed 
 out and a Republican installed; and as soon as 
 the Democrats gained the day in a national elec¬ 
 tion, the position was speedily reversed. There 
 was no inducement, therefore, for a worthy man 
 to take the place. 
 
 Postmaster Grimes, like his predecessors, spent 
 only a small part of his time at the office, and 
 hired cheap and ignorant assistants. Mails were 
 carelessly assorted and still more carelessly de¬ 
 livered. Mistakes in money orders were fre¬ 
 quent and mischievous. Valuable letters were 
 given to the wrong persons, opened, and sent 
 to their owners only after vexatious delays. 
 
48 
 
 THE C AXT ON CLUB. 
 
 Papers and magazines were crumpled and soiled. 
 Special delivery letters were delivered — after 
 Dick got out of school. The office was kept in 
 a most slovenly condition, foul with tobacco 
 smoke, and full of loud-voiced loafers. There 
 were even rumors of the opening of letters con¬ 
 taining money and the theft of their contents. 
 Throughout his whole term Mr. Grimes and his 
 
 o 
 
 subordinates had maintained an air of insolence 
 and incivility that was unendurable. There 
 had been frequent threats of complaint to Wash¬ 
 ington, but no one had cared to take the lead. 
 
 It may be imagined, therefore, how joyfully 
 the second number of The Reformer was re¬ 
 ceived. What matter if it was edited by three 
 boys and a girl? It voiced with decision the 
 long-pent feelings of the town. It assailed a 
 foe to the public welfare. 
 
 Nor was it entirely the work of three boys 
 and a girl, by any means. Pursuing the same 
 policy as before, Ben and his associates had 
 obtained expressions of opinion from many men 
 and women. This matter was more personal 
 than the street-reform, and only the more coura¬ 
 geous were willing that their names should be 
 used; but the editors grouped the contributions 
 effectively under the headings: “ Interviews 
 
 with Leading Merchants,” “ What our Profes¬ 
 sional Men Think about It,” “ The Judgment 
 
THE REFORM CAMPAIGN. 
 
 49 
 
 of Representative Women,” and the like; and 
 there were enough signed articles to give to the 
 protest the power of personal influence. 
 
 Every one in town, except, the “political 
 machine,” the postmaster, and his immediate 
 followers, was full of satisfaction. But Mr. 
 Grimes and Dick were raging. None of the 
 Caxton Club could enter the post-office without 
 meeting with abuse and sneers. Finally, three 
 days after the publication of the number, the 
 counter-blow fell. 
 
 It was Arthur’s custom, early ev6ry morning, 
 to snatch a few minutes before breakfast to run 
 down the lawn and take a peep into his beloved 
 “ sanctum.” So greatly had the manly work 
 transformed him that he no longer showed or 
 felt a trace of the old listlessness. 
 
 With a bound and a leap, on this particular 
 May morning, he reached the door of the club¬ 
 house. But he stopped short in dismay. The 
 pretty sign, “ The Caxton Club,” which had 
 swung in dainty white and gold over the door, 
 was wrenched from its fastenings and lay, a pile 
 of splinters, on the ground. 
 
 His heart beating hard, Arthur opened the 
 door, looked in, and gave a cry of horror. The 
 entire building was a wreck! 
 
50 
 
 THE C AXT ON CLUB . 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE WOE OF THE LITTLE RED CLUB-HOUSE. 
 
 It was indeed a wretched sight that Arthur 
 saw. 
 
 The window, by which entrance had been 
 made, lay on the floor, the glass in fragments. 
 On the floor also, in an indescribable confusion, 
 was the broken office furniture. The type 
 drawers had been pulled out, overturned, tram¬ 
 pled on, the precious types flung in handfuls 
 here and there. Countless bits of lead littered 
 the room. The ink-can had been seized, and its 
 contents smeared over the walls. Paper of all 
 kinds had been torn up or crumpled up. Most 
 appalling of all, the beautiful press, the Ben 
 Franklin, the pride of Arthur’s heart, had been 
 wrenched from its place, overthrown, and 
 twisted and battered till it was almost unrecog¬ 
 nizable. 
 
 Giving one heartbroken glance around, Arthur 
 made his way over all this ruin to the inner 
 room, the meeting-place of the Caxton Club. 
 
 Here, if possible, the destruction was still 
 more thorough. The costly table was splintered 
 
WOE OF LITTLE RED CLUB-HOUSE . 51 
 
 and its legs were torn off. The pictures lay on 
 the floor, mere mangled remnants. The shelves 
 were torn down, and fragments of mutilated 
 books had been tossed here and there. Not a 
 chair in the room but was smashed. The ink- 
 bottles had been thrown at the neatly papered 
 wall, and great black spots were the result. The 
 desk was upset and demolished. Not a hint 
 remained of the glory of the Caxton Club. 
 
 Arthur rushed to the house, every breath 
 coming very much like a sob. Poor fellow! It 
 was his first taste of opposition. Until that 
 time he had never known, in all his protected 
 life, the bitterness of an enemy. 
 
 Speedily his father and his mother made their 
 way out to the little red club-house, with excla¬ 
 mations of sympathy. Mr. Augustine Drayton 
 appeared too, especially indignant at the wanton 
 destruction of so many books. The coachman 
 came running up from the stable, and cook and 
 maids came running down from the house, and 
 all looked in at the door with horrified faces. 
 
 Mr. Colton went back to the house presently 
 and telephoned orders for a detective to be sent 
 from the nearest city. He suspected that Dick 
 Grimes was at the bottom of the outrage; for 
 Arthur had told him how Dick’s application for 
 membership in the club had been refused, and 
 how Mr. Grimes had retaliated by depriving the 
 
 OMiVtHSITY OF lUmSK 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
52 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB . 
 
 boys of their newspaper mailing rates. Mr. 
 Colton had seen the last number of The Re¬ 
 former, and he judged that it had been the final 
 spark that had caused Dick’s rage to burst into 
 flame. 
 
 In the meantime, too excited to think of break¬ 
 fast, Arthur was speeding to the homes of the 
 other members of the Caxton Club and sum¬ 
 moning them to the scene of ruin. 
 
 O 
 
 Kate and Caspar were loud in their indigna¬ 
 tion, but Ben took the matter philosophically. 
 u It’s just what all radical reformers have had to 
 meet,” he said. “ I begin to feel a little like 
 Lovejoy and Garrison.” 
 
 As the news got out, the entire village joined 
 in the indignation — all, that is, except those 
 whose opposition The Reformer had already 
 aroused. 
 
 The members of the Caxton Club did not keep 
 their opinions secret, though the detective, when 
 he came, blamed them for not doing 1 so. But 
 the Colton servants, if no one else, would have 
 spread them far and wide, so angry were they 
 that any one should harm the property of their 
 young master. 
 
 Presently our editors saw the opportunity for 
 a journalistic feat, and grasped it promptly. 
 Leaving the wrecked building as it was for the 
 detective to examine, the Caxton Club (for it 
 
WOE OF LITTLE RED CLUB-HOUSE. 53 
 
 chanced to he a Saturday and there was no 
 school) repaired to Caspar’s office in the barn. 
 Since the consolidation of the three papers this 
 room, once so busy, had been given up to the 
 mice, but that Saturday morning it was a hive 
 of activity. Pencils Hew, fingers dived rapidly 
 after the type, Caspar’s press limbered up its 
 rusty joints, and early in the afternoon the 
 Caxton Club were distributing extras to their 
 subscribers and all their village friends —indeed, 
 to any one that would take them. 
 
 THE REFORMER-EXTRA! 
 
 A DASTARDLY DEED! 
 
 THE REFORMER’S OFFICE WRECKED! 
 
 Midnight Marauders and the Ruin they Wrought! Was 
 
 Revenge the Motive? 
 
 These “ scare heads ” were followed by a full 
 account of the affair, a graphic pen-picture of 
 the dismantled office, ending with a hint of the 
 enmity The Reformer had excited, and of the 
 probability that this was the cause of the out¬ 
 rage. 
 
 The interest aroused by the first two numbers 
 
54 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 of the paper was greatly deepened by this strik¬ 
 ing “extra.” 
 
 “ Things have come to a pretty pass in Gard¬ 
 ner ! ” people cried. 
 
 “ It’s plain to be seen who did it! ” was 
 every one’s remark. 
 
 Every one’s, that is, but the detective’s. He 
 was a very commonplace young man, as different 
 as possible from the romantic ideal the boys had 
 formed. 
 
 “ He a detective ! ” Caspar exclaimed. “ Why, 
 he does n’t look as if he ever assumed a disguise 
 in his life.” Probably he never had. 
 
 “ He a detective ! ” cried Kate. “ Why, he 
 never once spoke in a whisper, and he did n’t say 
 a word about a clue, and he did n’t go nosing 
 around in a single corner, looking for signs and 
 footprints.” 
 
 As a matter of fact, however, Mr. Colton knew 
 Mr. Gray to be a very shrewd detective; and 
 after he had spent several days on the case, and 
 reported that he saw “ nothing in it,” the banker 
 let him go back to the city. Indeed, Dick Grimes, 
 if Dick had done it, had left no tracks, and was 
 giving no evidence. The boys, to be sure, thought 
 that his face wore a look of triumph; but, as the 
 detective explained, you can’t bring a look of 
 triumph into court and show it to a jury. 
 
 Fortunately for the Caxton Club, Mr. Colton 
 
WOE OF LITTLE RED CLUB-HOUSE. 55 
 
 was a rich man, and at once set about the task 
 of restoring the ruined club-house to its former 
 condition. Walls and floor were cleaned. New 
 furniture was installed. A press was bought, 
 the mate of the wrecked “Ben Franklin.” In¬ 
 deed, with the experience they had already had, 
 the boys were able to improve greatly upon their 
 old quarters, both in beauty and in convenience. 
 The Caxton Club came out of its troubles with 
 colors flying. 
 
56 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 X. 
 
 BEN IN TROUBLE. 
 
 But a new trouble was approaching, and one 
 that I do not want to tell about. It is the only 
 event in the whole story that I shall not enjoy 
 relating. It happened in this way. 
 
 One evening Caspar went to the post-office to 
 mail some letters. The post-office seemed de¬ 
 serted, there was no one visible outside or inside. 
 Caspar had to buy some stamps, and he saw a 
 large box full lying open on a shelf just back of 
 the delivery window. Impatiently he pushed 
 against the rusty iron screen of the window and 
 felt it give ; it was unlocked. 
 
 In an instant the spirit of mischief, mingled 
 with the thought of revenge, took possession of 
 the boy. He pushed open the screen, made a 
 long arm, grasped the box, and hurried away 
 with it in the deepening twilight. 
 
 But no sooner was Caspar outside the door 
 than the shameful fact of what he had done burst 
 upon him. 
 
 He was a thief ! 
 
 u Thief! ” a maple tree seemed to hiss at him, 
 
BEN IN TROUBLE. 
 
 57 
 
 rubbing its leaves together under a gentle 
 breeze. 
 
 “ Thief! ” a dog seemed to bark, running 
 around the corner toward him. 
 
 “ Thief ! Thief! ” an inner voice cried, loudest 
 of all. 
 
 Caspar looked back, terrified, into the office. 
 He fancied he heard steps. He never could put 
 the stamps back safely. He must run with them. 
 
 His heart gave a wild leap. What way should 
 he run ? The post-office was fairly in the centre 
 of the village, and stores were in every direction, 
 their bright lights beginning to flash across the 
 sidewalk. Caspar clung to the shadow of the 
 side of the building as if it were his only safety. 
 
 “ Run ! Run ! ” something said to him. 
 
 The poor fellow ran, throwing away the box 
 of stamps at the first corner, without stopping to 
 see where it fell. 
 
 Then came the strange part of it all. 
 
 Ben also, unluckily, had letters to mail that 
 night; and, unluckily, his letters were stamped, 
 so that he deposited them at once, and walked 
 out. Unluckily, too, while he was walking out, 
 Dick Grimes returned to the office through the 
 back door, saw the open delivery window, and 
 saw that the stamps were gone. 
 
 It all happened in a minute. 
 
 Dick dashed after Ben, shouting, “ Stop, thief! ” 
 
58 
 
 THE CA X TON CLUB. 
 
 with all the power of his strong lungs. He 
 pounced upon Ben just at the place where the 
 stamps had been thrown away, and at the same 
 time he caught sight of the box lying at the base 
 of a fence, the red sheets glowing with light from 
 a street lamp. 
 
 Dick had certainly seen that Ben had no box 
 under his arm. He had seen that Ben was walk¬ 
 ing leisurely and not running. He knew that 
 Ben had not thrown the stamps where they lay. 
 But his cunning brain at once as certainly per¬ 
 ceived that here had come a chance for great 
 mischief, and he raised the cry of 44 Thief! ” louder 
 than ever. 
 
 44 Thief ! ” cried several men, running out from 
 the shops. 44 Why, Dick Grimes, what’s the 
 matter? ” 
 
 44 Thief ! ” screamed Dick. 44 Ben Earle ’s been 
 stealing stamps ! Help ! Hold him, somebody ! ” 
 
 44 1 have n’t! ” cried Ben, indignantly. 44 Let 
 go of me ! ” and he wrenched himself loose. 
 
 44 Don’t let him go ! ” shouted Dick. 44 Here 
 are the stamps, where he just threw them away.” 
 
 44 Why, this is serious,” said one of the men. 
 
 “Where’s Sanders? Sanders ought to look 
 into this,” said another. 
 
 Sanders was the village constable, a butcher 
 by trade, and his shop was only a short distance 
 away. He was soon on the spot, brought there 
 
BEN IN TROUBLE. 
 
 59 
 
 by Dick’s excited screams. Sanders belonged to 
 the set of politicians that had for so long held 
 sway over affairs in Gardner, and his little eyes 
 glistened when he saw that his prisoner was Ben 
 Earle. 
 
 “You come along with me,” he said, taking 
 Ben roughly by the collar. “ And yon, Dick, 
 and all the rest of yon men, be at the squire’s for 
 witnesses at ten o’clock to-morrow morning. 
 Come along now, Ben Earle.” 
 
 And Ben Earle was locked up for the night in 
 the village jail. 
 
60 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 XI. 
 
 HARD TIMES, 
 
 It was early the next morning when Kate 
 Earle rang the front-cloor bell at the house of 
 President Grace. Caspar himself chanced to 
 open it. 
 
 “ Why, what’s the matter? ” he asked, as soon 
 as he saw her. For Kate’s eyes were red and 
 swollen, and her cheeks were very pale. 
 
 “It’s Ben! Ben’s in jail!” poor Kate fal¬ 
 tered. “ Did n’t you know it ? ” 
 
 “ In jail! What for ? Who put him there ? ” 
 were Caspar’s hurried and excited questions. 
 
 Dick Grimes had him put there. He 
 charges him with stealing stamps.” 
 
 It was now Caspar’s turn to look pale. 
 
 “ Stamps ! Ben did n’t steal the stamps ! ” he 
 cried forlornly. 
 
 “ Of course he did n’t! But he was going 
 away from the post-office, and Dick ran after 
 him, and found the stamps just where he caught 
 up with him, and a lot of men saw the stamps, 
 too, so they put Ben in jail, and he has been 
 there all night. Everybody really believes Ben 
 
HARD TIMES. 
 
 61 
 
 stole them ! ” And Kate broke down, sobbing at 
 the thought. 
 
 “We’ve had such a night, Caspar, at our 
 house! He sent word to us, as he was on his 
 way, and papa went out to the jail at once, but 
 he could n’t do anything. The trial is to be at 
 ten o’clock this morning. Oh, Caspar, can’t 
 your father do something ? ” 
 
 The suggestion roused Caspar from his dismay. 
 
 “ Of course he can do something; and he 
 will, right away. And Mr. Colton can do some¬ 
 thing. I’ll run right over to Arthur’s. You 
 go home, Kate, and don’t worry. They can’t 
 prove it on him.” 
 
 So Kate went home, and Caspar set about his 
 work of rescue. But ah, what a heavy heart 
 the boy had ! “ Ben in disgrace ! Ben Earle 
 
 called a thief! ” In this way his conscience 
 kept talking to him. “ And you are the thief, 
 Caspar Grace. The only way Ben can really be 
 cleared is for you to confess.” 
 
 Caspar made up his mind to confess it all; and 
 then came the thought of the jail and the trial, 
 and may be state’s prison, or anyway the house 
 of correction. 
 
 “ But no one will believe it of Ben,” Caspar 
 assured his conscience. “ They will simply 
 know it is one of Dick Grimes’ lies. They 
 can’t prove a thing. It won’t hurt Ben a mite, 
 
62 
 
 THE C A XTON CLUB. 
 
 while if I should confess ” — here Caspar shud¬ 
 dered. 
 
 President Grace had a recitation at ten o’clock, 
 but he postponed it in order to appear at the 
 trial. Mr. Colton had an important engagement 
 at the bank, but he put it off. Moreover, he 
 obtained the services of his friend Judge Miller, 
 an old lawyer who had long since left the bench, 
 but whose wits were as keen as ever, while his 
 reputation extended over all the neighboring 
 counties. 
 
 A large crowd filled Squire Holbrook’s office 
 long before ten o’clock. The friends of the 
 young prisoner made an imposing array, for not 
 a few of the leading men in town were there, in 
 addition to those I have named, and all of them 
 were eager to speak a good word for Ben. Kate 
 and her mother remained, trembling, at home, 
 but Mr. Earle was there, his face showing his 
 anxiety. As for Arthur and Caspar, it w r as all 
 they could do to keep back the tears. 
 
 But Mr. Grimes and Dick were also there, 
 with a strong showing of their set, the men 
 whom The Reformer had begun to oppose so 
 effectively. They laughed and winked joyfully 
 at one another ; and. when the constable brought 
 in Ben, keeping a tight grip on his arm, an ex¬ 
 ultant sound ran through their ranks. 
 
 Ben was pallid, and showed traces of the 
 
HARD TIMES. 
 
 63 
 
 niglit he had passed, but he held up his head 
 and looked at his father and his friends with a 
 confident smile. 
 
 Squire Holbrook cleared his throat, giving an 
 important “ Hem ! ” He was a very large man, 
 with bushy white hair, and spectacles pushed up 
 over his forehead. He wore the spectacles in 
 order to look wise, it was said; at any rate, he 
 was never known to look through them. Few 
 persons in town could remember when the squire 
 was not a squire. Term after term he was 
 placed in office as a matter of course. Indeed, 
 every one liked the old fellow, and admired the 
 shrewd justice which he had so long dealt out. 
 
 “ What’s the case, Sanders ? ” he asked. 
 
 “ This prisoner, your honor, is Benjamin Earle. 
 He is charged with stealing from the post-office 
 a box of two-cent stamps, valued at eighty-five 
 dollars.” 
 
 u Who’s the plaintiff ? ” 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes, your honor, and the principal 
 witness is Richard Grimes, his son.” 
 
 “ Well, Dick Grimes, what do you know about 
 it ? Speak up.” 
 
 With that Dick told his story, slyly passing 
 over the fact that he had neither seen the box in 
 Ben’s hands nor seen him throw it away. 
 
 Mr. Grimes followed, describing what he was 
 pleased to call “ the prisoner’s dastardly attempt 
 
64 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 to defraud the United States government by 
 obtaining illegal rates for a disgusting little 
 paper of his.” He ascribed the theft of the 
 stamps to Ben’s desire for revenge. 
 
 The next witnesses were the men from the 
 stores, who had been drawn to the scene by 
 Dick’s outcry. Their testimony merely estab¬ 
 lished the facts that Ben Earle was seen on the 
 spot and that the box of stamps lay near him. 
 
 “Is that the whole of your case, Si Grimes? ” 
 asked the squire, addressing the postmaster. 
 
 “ All at present, your honor,” said Mr. Grimes, 
 implying that he had any amount of evidence in 
 reserve. 
 
 “Now,” said the old squire, turning to Ben, 
 “ what have you got to say for yourself, young 
 feller ? Your looks, anyway, don’t stamp you as 
 a thief.” 
 
 The squire liked to have his little joke, and 
 he chuckled over his pun. 
 
 “ I have never touched these stamps, sir,” 
 said Ben. “ I merely went into the office to 
 post some letters, and came away. I saw that 
 the delivery window was open, but I did not 
 touch or particularly notice anything inside. 
 There was no one in the office, so far as I know, 
 and I can only offer you my word, — unless 
 some one will speak for my good character. 
 The first I knew of the matter was when Dick 
 
HARD TIMES. 
 
 65 
 
 ran after me and laid hands on me. Then I, 
 like others, saw the stamps lying by the fence.” 
 
 u A truly virtuous boy ! ” sneered Mr. Grimes, 
 while his party indulged in various mocking 
 remarks. 
 
 “ Silence in the court! ” called the squire, 
 sternly. Then he turned in an expectant way 
 toward Ben’s friends. 
 
 It was impressive testimony they gave, one 
 after another, the solid, substantial men of the 
 village. Mr. Earle spoke first, and his few, 
 straightforward words were said in the midst of 
 a perfect stillness which showed that every one 
 present understood what this matter meant to 
 that father. Then the college president had his 
 say, speaking of the many hours that Ben had 
 spent at his house, and of his uniformly high 
 character as he had observed it, and that he was 
 glad to have his son in the company of that 
 kind of boy. The banker followed, and Ben’s 
 minister, his teachers in day school and Sunday 
 school, several merchants, and last of all arose 
 Judge Miller, tall in spite of his age, and very 
 impressive with his white hair and strong 
 features. 
 
 “ May it please the court,” he said, bowing 
 to the squire with a deference which greatly 
 gratified that personage, “ I should like to have 
 the first witness sworn.” 
 
66 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB 
 
 “ Stand up, Dick,” commanded the squire, 
 “ and hold up your right hand.” 
 
 Dick obeyed, hut growing suddenly pale, and 
 lowering his eyes as he took the obligation to 
 “ tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing 
 but the truth,” and called upon God to bear 
 witness. 
 
 Then Judge Miller, fixing his deep-set black 
 eyes upon Dick’s shifting ones, delivered a lect¬ 
 ure on the character of an oath, spoke of the 
 crime of perjury, and described the punishment 
 meted out to that crime. After this warning, he 
 began to cross-examine Dick. 
 
 First he made the boy confess that he had left 
 the delivery door unlocked, and so exposed the 
 stamps to robbery. This gave the judge an 
 opportunity, by a few quiet questions, to expose 
 the carelessness common in the village post- 
 office, and to hold up Mr. Grimes and his subor¬ 
 dinates as unworthy government servants. 
 
 Next he brought out, by a series of questions, 
 the story of Dick s attempt to join the Caxton 
 Club, and was about to catechize the boy re¬ 
 garding the destruction at the club-house; but 
 Mr. Grimes objected to the introduction of that 
 matter, and the squire ruled it out. However, 
 Judge Miller had already made his point, which 
 was to show that there was a motive for Dick to 
 charge Ben with theft. 
 
HARD TIMES. 
 
 67 
 
 “ And now,” declared Judge Miller, “ we 
 come to the main questions ; and again I desire 
 to warn this young man that he is under oath, 
 and to remind him of the heavy penalties at¬ 
 tached to the crime of perjury. Richard Grimes, 
 did you, at any time, actually see that box of 
 stamps in Ben Earle’s possession ? ” 
 
 “ I object to the question! ” shouted Mr. 
 Grimes. 
 
 “ Why do you object ? ” asked the squire. 
 
 “ Because it lias been proved that Ben Earle 
 had that box of stamps. Was n’t it found right 
 at his feet? How else could it have got there, 
 I ’d like to know ? ” 
 
 “Judge Miller’s question,” said the squire, 
 “is a proper one, and the witness must answer.” 
 
 Judge Miller repeated the question. 
 
 The wretched witness faltered and stammered. 
 At last he said, “ I don’t know. It was too 
 dark to see plainly. But he must have had it, 
 or how could he throw it away? ” 
 
 Dismissing Dick with a contemptuous wave 
 of his hand, Judge Miller summed up his case. 
 He reminded the squire, significantly, that Dick 
 had brought no evidence to prove his honesty 
 and good character. He reviewed what had 
 been said about Ben’s upright life. He inquired 
 why the witness and his father were so unwill¬ 
 ing to have the wreck of the club-house inquired 
 
68 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 into. Finally, he brought out the fact that no 
 one had seen Ben with the stamps, and that it 
 would have been as just to accuse the squire 
 himself, if he had happened to be passing near 
 the box. “There was a thief, of course,” Judge 
 Miller concluded, “ but it was not Benjamin 
 Earle.” 
 
 I have said nothing about Caspar through all this 
 scene. The lad was sitting there, almost frantic 
 with grief, and fear, and shame. He knew what 
 he ought to do. He knew that a single sentence 
 from him would free Ben at once from suspicion, 
 but it would put him in his friend’s place. It 
 would hand him over to the constable and the 
 jail. Caspar trembled at the very thought. 
 
 And then, as before, he began to argue with 
 himself. No one really believed it of Ben, not 
 even Ben’s enemies believed it; he was coming 
 out of it all right. Judge Miller would bring him 
 out of it all right. Squire Holbrook would do the 
 right thing. Why should he ruin his own life 
 needlessly ? 
 
 So did the tortured boy argue with his con¬ 
 science — and sit still. Half dazed, he heard 
 Judge Miller’s concluding remarks, heard the 
 squire pronounce his decision that nothing had 
 been proved against Ben, and bid the constable 
 let him go. He sat there and watched Ben’s 
 friends congratulate him; and he, who had usu- 
 
IIARB TIMES. 
 
 69 
 
 ally been the very first to leap to his side, was 
 now the last to speak to him. 
 
 Alas for Caspar! 
 
 But Ben was free. Ben Earid walked out of 
 that court room no longer a boy; the hard expe¬ 
 rience had made of him a young man. He was 
 never again quite what he was before. And 
 beside, the wretched affair was not yet at an end, 
 because there came out of it something very 
 important, which I have still to relate. 
 
TO 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 XII. 
 
 PRESIDENT GRACE HAS A WORD TO SAY. 
 
 For if you think that the Grimeses, father 
 and son, ceased their evil efforts after their defeat 
 before Squire Holbrook, you little know them. 
 I have already said that Mr. Grimes was one 
 of the owners of The Gardner Graphic , and it 
 will be remembered that it was in the Graphic 
 printing-office that Mr. Earle was foreman. 
 Every one connected with the office liked Mr. 
 Earle. The editor admired his skill, his accu¬ 
 racy, and his faithfulness. The compositors and 
 pressmen loved him for his kindness and his 
 justice. 
 
 There was rebellion among the Graphic em¬ 
 ployees, therefore, when, the day after Ben’s 
 trial, Mr. Grimes walked in, his face heavy with a 
 scowl, and dismissed Mr. Earle from his position. 
 
 “You get out of here, Sam Earle,” he com¬ 
 manded. “Never show your face here again. 
 You’re the father of a thief, and you’re prob¬ 
 ably no better yourself. Anyway, I won’t run 
 the risk of having you around. You clear out 
 instantly.” 
 
PRESIDENT GRACE HAS A WORD. 71 
 
 The whole force of printers growled under 
 their breath, but they did n’t dare say a word. 
 One of them went to the editor, and Mr. Stan- 
 wood came hurrying out of his office. 
 
 “ Why, Mr. Grimes,” he ventured, very re¬ 
 spectfully, “ I don’t see how we can spare Earle. 
 He is invaluable. The paper can’t get along 
 without him, and his character is above re¬ 
 proach.” 
 
 “ Mind your own business, Stan wood, if you 
 don’t want to go too,” snarled Mr. Grimes, stalk¬ 
 ing out of the office. Mr. Stanwood had become 
 familiar with the brutal power of his employer, 
 through five years of hateful service. He was 
 not a man of spirit, or he would long ago have 
 left his position ; now he dared only to sympa¬ 
 thize with the dismissed foreman, and offer to 
 do what he could toward getting him a place in 
 some other printing establishment. How diffi¬ 
 cult that would be, however, both he and Mr. 
 Earle knew very well. 
 
 Once more the Grace front door-bell was 
 rung as a signal of distress, but this time it was 
 Ben, and not Kate, whom Caspar found there. 
 Ben had not the heart to give the usual sum¬ 
 mons, the “ flicker ” whistle. 
 
 Caspar, whose conscience had let him sleep 
 little that night, saw at once that something 
 was the matter. 
 
72 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 “ What is it, Ben ? ” lie cried. “ Anything 
 more that is bad ? ” 
 
 “I should say so!” groaned Ben. “Father 
 is discharged.” 
 
 “ Discharged ? How ? Who did it ? Why ? ” 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes did it, because, he said, father 
 was probably a thief as much as I. Caspar, I 
 don’t believe I should have got out that last 
 number of our paper if I ’d remembered that Mr. 
 Grimes owns The Graphic — or part owns it, any¬ 
 way. And now what are we to do ? One 
 thing, I’m going to leave school and try to earn 
 money till father gets another place.” 
 
 Caspar groaned. Here was more fruit of his 
 thoughtless act, and the cowardice that followed 
 it. “ But,” he began at once to argue with his 
 conscience, “ it was n’t the stamps; that was 
 only a pretext. Mr. Earle would have been 
 discharged anyway, on account of The Re¬ 
 former .” 
 
 So he comforted Ben as best he could, telling 
 him how sure he was that The Graphic could n’t 
 be run without his father, and anyway such a 
 good printer as Mr. Earle would not be long 
 without a job. 
 
 A cheery voice out of the hall broke in on 
 their talk. “ Well, boys,” President Grace said, 
 “ why are your faces so long ? You ought to be 
 jubilant this morning; but Caspar has been as 
 
PRESIDENT GRACE HAS A WORD. 78 
 
 solemn as an owl, and now here’s Ben just as 
 gloomy. What’s np, boys ? ” 
 
 In one long sentence Caspar told the latest 
 outrage, and President Grace was as indignant 
 as the two boys. 
 
 “ I ’in going to see that Grimes right away,” 
 he said, taking his hat. 
 
 “ Oh, will you ? ” cried Ben and Caspar to¬ 
 gether, feeling that their troubles were fairly off, 
 now that President Grace had taken them upon 
 his shoulders. 
 
 President Grace at once strode away to the 
 post-office, leaving the boys to bright imaginings 
 concerning the interview and its results. Some¬ 
 thing would certainly happen. Something 
 always did happen when President Grace un¬ 
 dertook business. 
 
 Postmaster Grimes was found sitting on the 
 counter at the post-office, talking to a company 
 of his friends, who were just then particularly 
 hilarious. “ He ’ll have to leave town, of 
 course,” he was saying. 
 
 “I want to speak with you, Mr. Grimes,” 
 said President Grace. 
 
 “Well, here I am,” answered Mr. Grimes, 
 swinging his legs against the counter. 
 
 “You ’ll not want any one else to hear what 
 I have to say,” said President Grace. “ I think 
 we would better retire.” 
 
74 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 The postmaster hesitated. He knew that the 
 President of Albemarle College was not in the 
 habit of making statements for effect. At last 
 he growled out, “ J’m not afraid to talk before 
 any one,” but led the way to his inner office. 
 
 “ Mr. Grimes, I have just lffiard of the con¬ 
 temptible thing yon did this morning,” said 
 President Grace. 
 
 “Now, look here, Mr. Grace, if you think 
 you ’re going to ” — 
 
 “ I’m going to give you an opportunity to 
 restore Mr. Earle to his position,” went on 
 President Grace. 
 
 “ Oh, you are, are you ? ” Mr. Grimes sneered. 
 
 “ Will you do it, and at once ? ” 
 
 Mr. Grimes twisted uneasily in his chair. 
 “ Suppose I propose to manage my business in 
 my own way. What are you going to do about 
 it?” 
 
 “ I will tell you, Mr. Grimes, exactly what I 
 will do if you don ’t take hack Mr. Earle at once. 
 I ’ll call a meeting of the best men in the town. 
 Every storekeeper that advertises in The Graphic 
 will be there, every doctor, every minister, every 
 substantial farmer, and pretty much your entire 
 list of subscribers,, together with all the men 
 that give you job printing to do. I can bring 
 them together, and you know I can. At that 
 meeting we will do three things. First, we will 
 
PRESIDENT GRACE HAS A WORD. 75 
 
 agree henceforth to have nothing more to do 
 with your paper, not to subscribe for it, or 
 advertise in it, or give you any printing to do. 
 Second, we will organize a company to publish 
 a paper that will be a credit to the town. I 
 know who will run its composing-room, and I 
 know a young man who is rapidly growing up 
 to be its editor. Third, we will send to Wash¬ 
 ington a petition for your removal from the post- 
 office, and the petition will be one that cannot 
 be refused. You know I can bring all this 
 about, and you know I mean business. Now, 
 will you take back Mr. Earle ? ” 
 
76 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 N. A. P. A. 
 
 Mr. Grimes did not answer immediately, but 
 his chin dropped, his eyes fell, and President 
 Grace knew that the day was won. The post¬ 
 master began,to grumble about “persecution,” 
 and “ ruining his business,” and “forcing a thief 
 upon him,” but the president was inflexible, and 
 would not leave without a definite surrender. 
 
 The result was that Ben was speedily in happy 
 possession of the following note, which President 
 Grace gave him to hand to his father: 
 
 Samuel Earle : I suppose you may go back to work, and 
 let this be a warning to you. 
 
 Silas Grimes. 
 
 And so the hard experience came to an end; 
 at least some important parts of it came to an 
 end. 
 
 For Ben and Caspar the hardness kept right 
 on. You may well believe that Dick Grimes 
 and his particular friends made the most of their 
 opportunities. They knew that in reality the 
 charge against Ben stood simply “Not proven ! ” 
 
N. A. P. A. 
 
 77 
 
 “ Stop, thief! ” they often called out when 
 Ben was on the street. “ Thief! ” some one 
 labelled his desk at school. “ Thief ! ” some one 
 pinned on his coat at recess. They got a rusty 
 pair of handcuffs and came to Ben in a crowd, 
 politely asking him to show them how they were 
 adjusted. There was drawn upon the school 
 blackboard a face looking out from behind iron 
 bars. “ Give us a song, bird, jailbird! ” some 
 one would shout in his hearing. 
 
 These tortures wore upon Ben. He was 
 light-hearted no more. He knew that he had a 
 host of friends ; he knew that no one worth heed¬ 
 ing believed him guilty. He held up his head 
 manfully, and tried not to mind the taunts and 
 to forget his trouble; but his enemies would 
 not allow him to forget it, and in spite of him¬ 
 self he constantly brooded over it. 
 
 Caspar saw it all. Oh, yes, Caspar saw every¬ 
 thing, heard everything. He was always near 
 Ben. Not a cruel jest aimed at Ben but stung 
 him more. He lay awake of nights, going over 
 his own cowardly part in the affair, and feel¬ 
 ing in imagination Ben’s daily tortures. Many 
 a night he made up his mind to be brave and 
 honest, to confess it all, and take whatever 
 consequences might come. Then with the 
 bright morning light his courage would ooze 
 away. 
 
78 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB. 
 
 The Reformer perished with its second number 
 and that famous “ extra.” It came to an end on 
 Mr. Colton’s quiet advice, heartily accepted by 
 the entire Caxton Club. 
 
 u It has a little too pretentious a name,” said 
 Mr. Colton, “ for a paper run by three boys and a 
 girl, even by such boys and such a girl! ” and 
 he bowed gallantly to Kate, who returned the 
 bow jauntily. “ Continue the paper, if you wish 
 to, and give attention to village reforms, if you 
 like; but my impression is that you will be 
 wiser to show how things may be bettered rather 
 than criticising officials directly. And as for 
 the name, I always liked the title Ben had for 
 his paper, The Learner. It is a modest name, 
 and it would exactly fit such a journal as you 
 mean to conduct. That’s what all men are, even 
 the wisest of them, — just learners.” 
 
 The suggestion was received at once with en¬ 
 tire favor. The Reformer was buried without a 
 word, and The Learner was restored as the 
 organ of the Caxton Club. 
 
 It became a notable success. In the history 
 of amateur journalism which is yet to be written 
 (for though such histories are in print they are 
 small and incomplete), a great deal of attention 
 will be given to The Learner. It became widely 
 known very speedily throughout the N.A.P.A., 
 the National Amateur Press Association. Rep- 
 
N. A. P. A. 
 
 79 
 
 utations are rapidly made in the N.A.P.A., and 
 they pass away as rapidly. 
 
 The Learner deserved its fame. No paper in 
 all its wide exchange list was so neatly printed, 
 with so nice a choice of type and so free from 
 errors. No paper was so well edited, so sensi¬ 
 ble, so original, so bright, so practical. All four 
 members of the Caxton Club put into it their 
 best brains, and floods of time. Besides, they 
 obtained contributions from all the good writers 
 in town ; and since it was a college town, these 
 were many. It made no more sensations, but it 
 exerted a steady influence for the improvement 
 of the village. 
 
 Inquiries came from other papers, “ Who is 
 the editor-in-chief of The Learner f ” and the 
 club always insisted on answering, “ Arthur 
 Colton.” Neither Ben nor Caspar, for reasons 
 you can easily understand, would accept that 
 proud title; and as for Kate, though all the boys 
 were ready to exalt her to the leadership, she 
 declared that her “feeble effort” was able only 
 to keep her afloat as a subordinate. 
 
 Arthur was growing ambitious; there was no 
 doubt about it. Not a few papers had urged 
 that the editor-in-chief of The Learner would 
 make the best possible president of the N.A.P.A. 
 The suggestion was plainly not displeasing to 
 Arthur; and as for Ben, Caspar, and Kate, they 
 
80 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 flung up their hats for it. The mysterious 
 44 Lee Brane ” was one of the most powerful ad¬ 
 vocates of Arthur’s candidacy, and promoted it 
 by articles in many papers. 
 
 44 That settles the possibility that Lee Brane 
 is Dick Grimes,” said Caspar, after showing the 
 club one of those articles, 44 though I never 
 thought it possible that he could be.” 
 
 44 I’ve gone over and over all the persons in 
 town that might be Lee Brane, and I give him 
 up,” said Arthur. 44 T believe he’s some fellow 
 out in the country who gets his mail here.” 
 
 It was after thirty or forty of the best amateur 
 papers in the land had placed 44 Arthur Colton ” 
 at the head of their national ticket, and urged 
 his election in editorials full of such fine phrases 
 as 44 an honor to our cause ” and 44 the pride of 
 Amateurdom,” that Arthur made his great an¬ 
 nouncement to Ben and Caspar. 
 
 44 Boys,” said he, 44 papa has said I can go to 
 Boston to the N.A.P.A. meeting. And, boys, 
 he has given me money to take you, too. Don’t 
 say no, for I shall need you to electioneer for 
 
HO, FOR THE HUB! 
 
 81 
 
 XIV. 
 
 HO, FOR THE HUB ! 
 
 W ell, what could the boys say ? It was not 
 in hoy’s heart to refuse such an invitation, in 
 any case; and now that Arthur put it as a per¬ 
 sonal favor, it was impossible. 
 
 And so it came about that one beautiful sum¬ 
 mer day three boys entered the sleeper of the 
 44 through train ” that would carry them to New 
 York, whence they would go to Boston — that 
 mysterious New York sleeper, at whose glories 
 they had taken many a peep from the station 
 platform, but in it had never before popped 
 their heads. A friend of Mr. Colton’s was to 
 meet them in New York and escort them to the 
 Boston boat, so that the fears of the three 
 mothers were allayed. 44 Besides,” President 
 Grace said, 44 I ’d as soon trust Ben Earle as a 
 man, any day.” 
 
 Kate stood on the platform and waved her 
 sunbonnet after them. For one wild moment 
 she wished she were a boy. 44 Just think ! ” she 
 said to herself. 44 They are going to see Bunker 
 Hill Monument, and the place of the Tea Party, 
 
82 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 and the homes of Longfellow and Lowell and 
 Holmes ; yes, and maybe the house where Miss 
 Alcott lived. And the}^ will see Paul Revere’s 
 house, too, and the church where the lanterns 
 were hung out, and — now look here, Kate 
 Earle! you ought to be simply feeling glad 
 your brother can go — that brother who has so 
 much to trouble him ! ” 
 
 If Kate could have followed her brother across 
 Ohio and Pennsylvania and New Jersey she 
 would have been more and more thankful to see 
 how his spirits rose. Indeed, with the glorious 
 rush of the train, all the boys soon got in high 
 glee, and for the first time since the troubles I 
 have been describing returned to their old-time 
 jollity. 
 
 Everything was interesting. The berths — 
 how they were let down for the night and put 
 up for the day ; the luxuries of the dining-car; 
 the splendors of the mountains; the smoky al¬ 
 lurements of the great manufacturing cities ; the 
 glimpse of Philadelphia ; the New Jersey fiats ; 
 the ferry over the Hudson, and New York’s pano¬ 
 rama of marvellous “sky-scrapers;” the Fall 
 River steamer, to which they were safely con¬ 
 ducted by Mr. Colton’s business friend; the 
 superb trip around the great city into the Sound, 
 past the statue of Liberty, and under the monster 
 Brooklyn bridge; the splendors of the immense 
 
110, FOR THE HUB! 
 
 83 
 
 floating hotel; the joy of sleeping for the first 
 time on the water — u actually on a branch of 
 the Atlantic Ocean;” the railroad journey next 
 morning up through the lovely New England 
 hills and meadows and long sea inlets; the first 
 glimpses of Boston, as the boys passed through 
 the imposing Providence station and took a 
 street car for their hotel. 
 
 Ah, it was a glorious journey! 
 
 Exhilarated by all they had seen, and wearing 
 the air of old travellers, our three lads stepped 
 up to the clerk’s desk to register. The hotel 
 —-Young’s — was the N.A.P.A. headquarters, 
 right in the heart of the old city. They scanned 
 the register eagerly, therefore, to see what names 
 distinguished in Amateurdom they could find. 
 
 “ Henry Carter is here,” said Ben, pointing to 
 the autograph of the popular editor of The Argo¬ 
 naut , who had himself served two terms as presi¬ 
 dent of the N.A.P.A. 
 
 And Walter Norcross — see ! ” cried Caspar, 
 bending over the neat penmanship of that brisk 
 writer. 
 
 u Ts Lee Brane’s name down?” asked Arthur. 
 u We must find out about him.” 
 
 Here Caspar gave a low whistle, and silently 
 pointed to the name “ Richard Grimes,” scrawled 
 in Dick’s awkward script. 
 
 u He must have come by the Big Four,” 
 
84 
 
 THE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 Caspar said. “We might have known he would 
 be on hand, if he saw by his exchanges that 
 there was a chance of your being chosen presi¬ 
 dent.” 
 
 Dick was indeed there, and very much at 
 home among a certain set of the boys. They 
 saw him in the breakfast room, for the great 
 1 10tel had set apart one room for the members 
 of the N.A.P.A., where they could eat to¬ 
 gether. There Dick was hard at work, chatting 
 with this lad, whispering to that, and causing 
 many to look around at the three members of 
 the Caxton Club. The candidate for the presi¬ 
 dency whom he was pushing, in opposition to 
 Arthur, was Edgar Bolton, a wealthy young 
 fellow also from Ohio. It was agreed on all 
 hands that one of the Middle States should 
 have the presidency that year; but Bolton, 
 though his journal, The Buckeye Blade , was 
 printed on beautiful, heavy paper, in fine style, 
 yet was an empty-headed boy, whose articles 
 and editorials were large-sounding but bare of 
 sense. For several years he had sought the 
 presidency, but in vain. Never before, how¬ 
 ever, had he found so zealous an advocate as 
 Dick. 
 
 Ben and Caspar began at once to push the 
 claims of their candidate. Nearly every member 
 of the convention was known to them by name. 
 
110, FOR THE HUB! 
 
 85 
 
 With many of them they had corresponded. 
 With all they had exchanged papers. 
 
 First they hunted up the editors that had 
 already come out for Arthur, introduced them¬ 
 selves, and obtained from them introductions to 
 others. Our two electioneers were earnest in 
 their praise of Arthur, and won many new 
 friends for him. 
 
 It was Colton against Bolton, for there were 
 no other prominent candidates, though probably 
 half the boys in the convention were candidates 
 on a small scale. No national Republican or 
 Democratic convention can equal in the fierce¬ 
 ness of its work a convention of the N.A.P.A. 
 
 For the first day, however, while the young 
 editors w^ere gathering at Young’s Hotel, this 
 electioneering had to come in as a by-the-way, 
 so full a programme of sight-seeing had the 
 Boston boys laid out for their guests. Soon 
 after breakfast, under the escort of several 
 friendly reporters, they visited Newspaper Row, 
 near by. 
 
 This was indeed a printers’ paradise. The 
 narrow street, with the tall buildings rising on 
 either hand, the newsboys’ shrill cries, and the 
 fascinating bulletin boards, lettered with a sum¬ 
 mary of the news from all parts of the world, 
 would have held the Caxton Club for a long 
 while if their guides had not hurried them on. 
 
86 
 
 THE CA XTON CLUB. 
 
 Indeed, that very morning, as it happened, a 
 notable yacht race was being sailed off Sandy 
 Hook, and in front of the various newspaper 
 buildings were large blackboards, beside which 
 telegraph instruments were ticking away. The 
 progress of the rival yachts was shown on the 
 blackboards as fast as the telegraph flashed the 
 news, and the hurrahing crowds in the street 
 below were practically spectators of the race 
 that was going on hundreds of miles away. 
 
 Inside the tall buildings, however, it was still 
 more wonderful. They were admitted to the 
 editors 1 rooms, and honored with a hearty but 
 very brief greeting from those dignitaries. 
 “ It’s always an editor’s busy day, you know, 
 boys. Keep your heads level, do good work, 
 and you ’ll make your mark in our business.” 
 That was the way the editors talked to their 
 callers, and then turned and scribbled off gay 
 paragraphs about them. 
 
 In the composing-rooms there was one great 
 curiosity to nearty all the boys. The Boston 
 papers were just beginning to introduce type¬ 
 setting machines, and several different kinds 
 were to be seen. All were played like typewriters 
 by skilled operators, but in one of them the type 
 slid down in long lines, one letter after another 
 being released by a touch on the magic keys, 
 while in another the type was actually cast as 
 
HO , FOR THE HUB! 
 
 87 
 
 the keys were moved, and the lines came out 
 solid blocks of fresh metal — a most surprising 
 contrivance ! 
 
 But of all the marvels — and there were many 
 — nothing equalled the press-rooms. The 
 presses were running off “ extras ” as fast as 
 they could during the yacht race, and every 
 press-room was fairly rocking with excitement. 
 The noise was deafening to the boys, though 
 the workmen seemed able to hear one another 
 speak without difficulty. Over and under, 
 under and over, the endless sheets of paper flew 
 through the immense machines, doubling here, 
 turning a corner there, quivering with the 
 frantic haste, at this place receiving from the 
 big rollers the impress of six pages, at that place 
 the impress of a dozen more, and at the bottom 
 spurting out in a flood of complete papers, 
 printed, folded, pasted, and cut, — pat-pat-pat- 
 patpatpat — as fast as drops ever fell in a sum¬ 
 mer shower. 
 
 The Caxton Club looked at those machines 
 in amazement. Said Caspar afterward, “ I 
 did n’t think that anything could do the work 
 and not be alive! ” 
 
 I cannot take space to describe that crowded 
 day, much as I should like to. The boys went 
 to the Public Library. They visited the old 
 State House, where the Colonial Council assem- 
 
88 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 bled, and saw Ben Franklin’s wooden printing- 
 press. They went to the Old South Church, 
 and saw the window through which Joseph War¬ 
 ren stepped to deliver his famous oration on the 
 Massacre. They stood on the spot where the tea 
 was thrown overboard — now a paved street. 
 They entered the curious old church from whose 
 towers Paul Revere’s lanterns flashed across to 
 the Charlestown shore. They saw Paul Revere’s 
 house, with its quaint overhanging second story. 
 They climbed the great shaft of Bunker Hill 
 monument, and saw the scores of towns out¬ 
 spread far below, with the ships dotting Boston 
 Harbor, and the blue Atlantic in the distance. 
 And in the evening they enjoyed a delightful 
 talk from one of Boston’s great men, Edward 
 Everett Hale, who wrote two of the books 
 on Ben Earle’s book shelves, “ The Man with¬ 
 out a Country,” and “ In His Name,” and 
 delighted them with memories of his own news¬ 
 paper days, and told them many a tale of Web¬ 
 ster and Sumner, of Garrison and Wendell 
 Phillips, of Longfellow and Lowell, and the 
 other giants of old Boston whom he had known 
 well. 
 
 Altogether, when the three members of the 
 Caxton Club tumbled into bed that night it 
 was an hour before they could get to sleep, 
 because their heads were so full of new ideas, and 
 
HO , FOR THE HUB! 
 
 89 
 
 their tongues so busy with what they had seen 
 and heard during their first day at the Hub. 
 
 If they had known what was to happen on 
 the morrow, they would not have slept at all. 
 
90 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB. 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE TRANSOM. 
 
 The next morning, behold, in the most spa¬ 
 cious parlor of Young’s Hotel, the N.A.P.A. in 
 solemn session ! 
 
 Arthur’s heart failed him when he looked on 
 that large company of boys. If elected, could 
 he ever make a speech of acceptance ? If he 
 ever made his opening speech, could he preside 
 oyer the meetings ? If he presided over the 
 meetings, could he conduct the affairs of this 
 great body during the coming year ? Arthur, 
 though naturally courageous and active, pos¬ 
 sessed of a quick and keen mind, had been 
 housed away from other boys and their life, and 
 he suddenly felt that his ambition was overleap¬ 
 ing itself, and was daring what he began to see 
 was too high for his sweep. 
 
 “ If I had realized,” he whispered to Caspar, 
 “ what a big thing this is, I should not have tried 
 for the presidency. I’ve a mind to back out now.” 
 
 “ Nonsense ! ” whispered Caspar. “ Guess you 
 can do as well as that stick of a Bolton ! ” That 
 thought was a relief to Arthur. 
 
THE TRANSOM . 
 
 91 
 
 As rapidly as possible the preliminaries were 
 got out of the way, and the convention entered 
 the battle for which all were eager — the strug¬ 
 gle for the presidency. 
 
 First came speeches of nomination, and these 
 were many; for, as I have said, almost half the 
 bojs were willing to take the exalted office, and 
 the other half were willing to place them in 
 nomination, expecting a return of the favor next 
 year. Most of the nominating speeches were 
 brief, merely a sentence or two, being made by 
 bashful boys. Others had been carefully thought 
 out and recited the entire history of the candi¬ 
 date, from his birth to the present time, setting 
 forth also his claims to the presidency. 
 
 But it was soon recognized that two candidates 
 alone had any chance of election. Bolton was 
 nominated by Dick Grimes, in a speech of con¬ 
 siderable ability, for Dick had brains, though he 
 chose to put them to bad uses. His speech was 
 full of sly thrusts at Arthur. His candidate was 
 not a recent arrival in Amateurdom, but had for 
 years been a hard worker in the ranks. His can¬ 
 didate was not entirely unpractised in parlia¬ 
 mentary law, but for years had taken part in 
 their annual conventions. His candidate was 
 not personally unknown to the convention, but 
 had for years been a faithful friend to them all. 
 His candidate was not, like others, backed by 
 
92 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 persons of no character, by jailbirds, by thieves, 
 but by the most respected amateurs in the 
 ranks. 
 
 At the last shot Caspar grew pale with an¬ 
 ger ; he clinched his hands, and his breath came 
 fast. 
 
 Bolton’s nomination was seconded by the sec¬ 
 retary of the convention, and it was soon made 
 plain, by many rulings in Bolton’s favor, that 
 the president also was on his side. 
 
 Ben had been chosen to nominate Arthur. 
 As he rose to speak he was received with hisses 
 from Bolton’s champions, and with cries of 
 “ Stamps ! Stamps ! Stamps ! ” One fellow 
 had brought in an iron chain, or had it in hid¬ 
 ing, clanking it at this point and now and then 
 throughout Ben’s speech, to the vast amuse¬ 
 ment of Bolton’s comrades. 
 
 u Mr. President,” Caspar shouted, “ call the 
 convention to order ! ” 
 
 “ The chair knows its business,” the president 
 answered shortly. 
 
 With a white face, yet with straightforward 
 sentences, Ben spoke for his friend, urging his 
 proved ability, his zeal for the cause, his high 
 personal character (and poor Ben choked here, 
 and the chain rattled), his leisure and abundant 
 means, mentioning also the many important 
 papers that championed his cause. 
 
THE TRANSOM. 
 
 93 
 
 One of the most respected of those friendly ed¬ 
 itors seconded Ben’s speech, somewhat too briefly, 
 evidently being daunted by the way in which 
 Ben was received. Then the convention fell to 
 balloting. 
 
 On the first ballot, every man voted, of course, 
 for the person he had nominated, and these com¬ 
 plimentary votes made the result quite “ scat¬ 
 tering,” though it was apparent that Bolton and 
 
 Colton were in the lead. 
 
 ? 
 
 This was made very plain by the second bal¬ 
 lot, which divided the boys almost equally, Col¬ 
 ton being in the lead, but without enough votes 
 to elect him. 
 
 So it remained for an hour, neither side yield¬ 
 ing an inch. Each balloting occupied consider¬ 
 able time, and much had been spent in the 
 nominating speeches, so that only eleven ballot- 
 ings were made before lunch, when, in high ex¬ 
 citement, the boys adjourned for an hour. 
 
 Bolton and his company were conspicuously 
 absent from the N.A.P.A. dining-room, and it 
 was soon known that he had hired a separ¬ 
 ate room, and was giving his followers an espec¬ 
 ially fine repast. This news cast a gloom over 
 Arthur’s company, because it looked like supe¬ 
 rior enterprise ; but Caspar went everywhere, 
 insisting that they preferred brains to oysters, 
 and rallied his forces from their depression. 
 
94 
 
 THE C A XT ON CLUB. 
 
 After lunch the battle went on much as 
 before. Each side, in excited conversation, at¬ 
 tacked the members of the opposing party that 
 were supposed to be doubtful. Argument was 
 heaped on argument, persuasion on persuasion, 
 but without result. The twentieth ballot, the 
 twenty-first, the thirtieth, the thirty-first — and 
 still no change ! 
 
 Then it was that Dick moved a recess of half 
 an hour, a motion which the president declared 
 passed without calling for the dissenting votes. 
 Immediately the president and secretary, Dick, 
 Bolton, and all his supporters, hurried from the 
 room. 
 
 “They have gone to hatch up some trick or 
 other,” said Caspar. 
 
 The half hour passed, and they did not return. 
 Forty minutes, forty-five, and Arthur’s company 
 began to look blank. 
 
 Scouts were sent forth, and were a long time 
 in their explorations around the hotel. 
 
 At length one of them returned, and shouted, 
 “ They’ve bolted ! The Boltonites have bolted ! 
 They have the president and secretary, and 
 I suppose they think they ’re the N.A.P.A! 
 They ’re electing their whole list of officers ! I 
 heard them through the keyhole! ” 
 
 Caspar jumped up, furious. The events of the 
 day had aroused all the combativeness that was 
 
THE TRANSOM. 
 
 95 
 
 in him. “ Show me where they are ! ” he cried, 
 and his entire force hastened after him. 
 
 Reaching the closed door, he hammered on it, 
 and shook it with all his might. 
 
 “ Let ns in ! ” he cried. “ This is n’t legal! 
 Let ns in! ” 
 
 A roar of laughter came through the open 
 transom. 
 
 That transom gave Caspar an idea. 
 
 “Here, fellows,” he whispered, “boost me up 
 there. I’ll get in and open that door! We ’ll 
 see if ” — 
 
 He was lifted on ready shoulders before finish¬ 
 ing the sentence. 
 
 As his head appeared in the opening, followed 
 by half his body, another roar, this time of anger, 
 greeted him. The tallest of the boys within 
 sprang to push him back. 
 
 “No!” cried Dick. “Pull him through! 
 We’ll show him!” And he made a jump, 
 caught Caspar by the neck, and jerked him, 
 head-foremost, to the floor. 
 
 The boys on the outside perceived a sudden 
 hush within. There was reason enough for it. 
 Caspar was stretched out motionless, and, to all 
 appearances, dead. 
 
96 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB . 
 
 XVI. 
 
 “FORGIVE ME! ” 
 
 The N.A.P.A. conducted no more business 
 that day. 
 
 The hotel clerk, to whom one of the boys ran, 
 summoned the nearest physician. When he 
 came, he found Caspar in his room, to which he 
 had been carried by four scared-faced boys. 
 He had begun to breathe heavily, and his face 
 was as white as the sheet on which he lay. 
 
 “ Bad business, this ! ” exclaimed the doctor as 
 soon as he saw him. “Alone in the city? You 
 his friends?” as Ben and Arthur were pointed out. 
 “ Telegraph at once for his father to come on ! 
 
 “ No, he is n’t dying,” the doctor added, 
 answering Arthur, “ but it’s a serious case — 
 very! ” By this time he was far in an examina¬ 
 tion of the injured boy. 
 
 Ben telegraphed for President Grace, wording 
 his message with care, and then hastened back 
 to get the doctor’s verdict. 
 
 “ He has a chance,” said the doctor ; “ but he 
 must be kept absolutely quiet, and he must have 
 a trained nurse. Shall I send one? ” 
 
“FORGIVE ME!” 
 
 97 
 
 u Certainly,” said Arthur, telling who he was, 
 and who Caspar’s father was. 
 
 The nurse speedily arrived — a sweet-looking, 
 daintily dressed, exceedingly capable young 
 woman, who at once took entire control in the 
 sick-room. 
 
 The chamber next door was occupied by con¬ 
 vention delegates, but they vacated it, that it 
 might be used by Ben and Arthur. A door 
 communicated between the two rooms. This 
 was unlocked, but kept closed. 
 
 The boys, in their intense anxiety, had no 
 thought of dinner. They sat talking in whispers, 
 debating how soon Mr. Grace would arrive, and 
 going over the events that had led to the 
 accident. 
 
 About eight o’clock Caspar fell into a delir¬ 
 ium. The two boys could hear him through the 
 closed door. His ravings were terrible, and now 
 and then he gave a scream. 
 
 Once Arthur and Ben opened the door and 
 looked in, but the nurse waved them back. 
 
 “ You can’t do anything,” she whispered, 
 “ and you might excite him more.” 
 
 About nine o’clock there came a rap at the 
 door. It was Dick — Dick Grimes. 
 
 He was haggard and downcast, and his voice 
 trembled as he spoke. 
 
 “ How — how — is he ? ” 
 
98 
 
 TJIE CAXTON CLUB. 
 
 “ Listen ! ” said Ben, sternly, and there was 
 silence in the room as moan after moan came 
 from the sufferer. 
 
 Dick groaned. “ Oh, fellows,” he asked, 
 “will you eyer forgive me? I didn’t mean to 
 hurt him. I just meant to pull him in and keep 
 him prisoner awhile. I never thought of his 
 falling on his head.” 
 
 A cry from the sick boy stopped Dick. 
 
 “I suppose I can’t see him? ” he said, after a 
 moment. 
 
 “ No ; the nurse won’t let us, even.” 
 
 “Well, anyway, I’ll tell both of you some¬ 
 thing. I ’ll feel easier, whatever — whatever — 
 happens. I want to say, Arthur, to you, that I 
 was the one who ruined your clubhouse, and 
 I ’m going to pay for it when I get home. And 
 I want to say to you, Ben, that I did see that 
 you did n’t have that box of stamps. And I’m 
 going to tell every one in the town that I knew 
 all the time that you did n’t! ” 
 
 The hoys were too much surprised to speak. 
 After a minute, Ben silently held out his hand. 
 Then Arthur held out his. 
 
 “ I’m ashamed of myself,” stammered Dick, 
 shaking hands but turning to go. “ I’ve been 
 ashamed of myself ever since the trial, Ben, 
 when I saw how you carried yourself, and what 
 friends you had. But, somehow, I kept on act- 
 
“FORGIVE ME!” 
 
 99 
 
 ing like a fool. And now this thing has hap¬ 
 pened. I can't make this thing right! ” 
 
 44 What’s your room, Dick ? ” Ben found voice 
 to ask. 44 We’ll come at once if there’s any 
 change in Caspar.” 
 
 44 One hundred and fifty-two,” said Dick. 
 44 Good-night.” 
 
 44 Good-night — old fellow ! ” cried Ben ; and 
 the last two words were halm to the unhappy 
 boy, who went away to a sleepless night. 
 
 Ben and Arthur had no time to talk over 
 this unexpected event, for the nurse opened 
 the door. 
 
 44 Is one of you Ben ? ” she asked. 
 
 44 1 am.” 
 
 44 Well, then, I guess you’d better come in. 
 It’s against the doctor’s orders, hut he keeps 
 calling for 4 Ben,’ and seems to have something 
 on his mind. Perhaps if he told you what it is, 
 he would get quiet. But don’t* stay more than 
 a minute.” 
 
 Ben went over to the bed, tiptoe. 
 
 44 Want to see me, old fellow?” he asked 
 cheerily. 
 
 44 That you, Ben?” Caspar cried out, trying 
 to sit up. 44 1 am so glad you have come ! I 
 wanted to tell you I took those stamps from the 
 office I You’ll hate me, Ben, hut don’t be too 
 hard on me! I did n’t think. It was half in 
 
100 
 
 THE CAX TON CLUB. 
 
 fun. I threw them away just as soon as I 
 thought it was stealing. And then, when they 
 put it on you, I turned such a coward! But 
 I have been so troubled, Ben, — oh, you’d for¬ 
 give if you knew how it has troubled me, 
 Ben! ” 
 
 44 Caspar,” said Ben, finding the sick boy’s 
 hand, “I do forgive you, with all my heart, so 
 don’t think any more about it.” 
 
 44 But the jail, Ben, — will they send me there ? 
 You know I must tell every one; yes, father and 
 mother, and everv one in town.” 
 
 1/ 
 
 Ben told Caspar, rapidly, of Dick’s visit and 
 confession. 44 If we forgive him what he did 
 you may be sure that he and his father will be 
 glad to forgive you what you did, Caspar.” 
 
 44 Perhaps,” sighed Caspar. 44 But I shall tell 
 every one, Ben, just the same.” 
 
 Here the nurse came up. 
 
 44 You have talked as long as I dare have you,” 
 said she. 
 
 44 It’s all right,” said Caspar, looking at her 
 brightly. 44 Good night, Ben, old chap.” 
 
 It was all right, for in a few minutes the nurse 
 came, smiling, into the boys’ room. 
 
 44 He’s sleeping quietly now,” she said; 44 that 
 means he will get well. Now you’d better go to 
 sleep yourselves. I ’ll call you if there should 
 be any change for the worse.” 
 
“FORGIVE ME!” 
 
 101 
 
 So the boys went to bed, though not until they 
 had been to Dick’s room with their good news. 
 
 But they were long in getting to sleep. It 
 was while they were thus wakeful, reviewing 
 many things, that two brilliant thoughts came to 
 Arthur. The first thought, however, was not 
 quite brilliant enough to do without the aid of 
 the electric light, which, jumping up, he turned 
 on. 
 
 “ What are you about ? ” asked Ben, watching 
 Arthur as he found a pencil and bit of paper. 
 
 “ I’ve an inspiration. Oh, Ben, you old hum¬ 
 bug ! ” 
 
 “ Are you growing crazy ? ” asked Ben, sitting 
 up. 
 
 “No ; my brain is all right, especially the Lee 
 Brane section. How stupid in us not to have 
 seen that the letters of 4 Lee Brane ’ spell ‘ Ben 
 Earle ’! ” 
 
 “ Is that all ? ” laughed Ben. “ Kate saw that 
 weeks ago.” 
 
 Going back to bed, Arthur indulged himself 
 in several punches planted on the body of Lee 
 Brane ; but he did not pursue the subject, for his 
 mind was busy with his second brilliant idea. 
 
102 
 
 THE C AXT ON CLUB. 
 
 XYII. 
 
 PRESIDENT EARLE. 
 
 When the N. A. P. A. came together the next 
 morning the members saw an unexpected sight. 
 Ben was absent, caring for Caspar, but Arthur 
 was there, sitting with Dick, the two talking 
 together in the most friendly way imaginable. 
 
 This was presently explained, for as soon as 
 the meeting was opened, Arthur rose and made 
 the following speech: 
 
 “ Mr. President, Fellow Editors: I rise to 
 withdraw my name from nomination for the pres¬ 
 idency. I thank all the fellows who stood by 
 me yesterday, but really I have n’t sufficient ex¬ 
 perience to be your president. I ought to have 
 seen that before. But I will put in nomination 
 some one who is worthy of the office, and that 
 is Lee Brane.” 
 
 Here there was a decided sensation, for Lee 
 Brane had been a mystery to all the members, 
 far and near, as well as to the Caxton Club. 
 Indeed, it had begun to be whispered around that 
 probably Arthur himself was the Great Unknown, 
 and the rumor had won him many adherents. 
 
PRESIDENT EARLE. 
 
 103 
 
 “Yes, Lee Brane,” proceeded Arthur, enjoy¬ 
 ing the sensation he had produced. 44 It was 
 only last night that I thought out who he is. 
 But you can see for yourself. Check off the 
 letters in his name, and you will see that 4 Lee 
 Brane ’ spells 4 Ben Earle.’ ” 
 
 On this announcement there was a second sen¬ 
 sation, much greater than the first, and Dick 
 Grimes led in a round of applause. 
 
 44 You all know Lee Brane, that is, Ben Earle, 
 as the most brilliant writer in all Amateurdom,” 
 went on the speaker. 44 He is also a brilliant 
 editor. The Learner is more his work than that 
 of any one else. The name is his, and most of 
 the ideas. We others help, but he is the leader, 
 the real editor-in-chief. 
 
 44 There is also another point in his favor to 
 be considered, but that will be brought out by 
 my friend, Richard Grimes.” 
 
 Still a third sensation as Dick arose, and the 
 biggest one of all; for in a few manly words he 
 withdrew whatever he had said against Ben’s 
 character, and apologized. He praised Ben in 
 the highest terms he could think of, seconded 
 the nomination with all his heart, and moved 
 that the election be made unanimous. 
 
 This was done with a great hurrah, in which 
 even Bolton, to his everlasting credit, had the 
 grace to join. 
 
104 
 
 THE CA XT ON CLUB . 
 
 Bolton himself, with Arthur and Dick, were 
 appointed a committee to inform Ben of his 
 election and escort him into the presence of the 
 convention. This was done in due form, and 
 he received a triple ovation, as Ben Earle, as Lee 
 Brane, and as the new president of the N.A.P.A. 
 The little ceremony — or as much of it as 
 took place in the sick-room — was a cordial to 
 Caspar; he watched and listened with spark¬ 
 ling eyes, and with a mind, for the first time in 
 many weeks, quite happy and at peace. 
 
 And now my story is near its close. 
 
 I might tell of President Grace’s gladness as 
 he arrived aiid found his son rapidly recovering. 
 
 I might tell of the good time Arthur, Ben, and 
 Dick enjoyed, tarrying in Boston till Caspar 
 could bear the journey home — how they stood 
 on Plymouth Rock, and on Concord Bridge, and 
 on the village green at Lexington, and in the 
 old Witch House in Salem. 
 
 I might tell, too, that as soon as Caspar was 
 once more at home he made a straight confession 
 to his father and mother of his thoughtless joke 
 on the post-office.; and that, moreover, for a 
 long time he insisted upon taking a position out 
 on the village green and proclaiming his bad deed 
 to every passer-by, but that at last he was made 
 
PRESIDENT EARLE. 
 
 105 
 
 to see that this would not in any way serve the 
 public good, since Dick’s open exoneration of 
 Ben was sufficient, and that the matter was finally 
 settled by his being allowed to make a clean 
 breast of it to Mr. Colton, Judge Miller, and 
 Squire Holbrook. 
 
 I might tell, too, how Dick Grimes started 
 out to grow manly and straightforward from 
 the time of the convention, giving up his old 
 associates and entering eagerly into his new 
 opportunities of friendship ; and how, one fine 
 day, he was unanimously chosen the fifth mem- 
 bor of the Caxton Club. 
 
 I might tell these things, and a dozen events 
 besides; for the story of the club went right on. 
 But I think the tale is long enough already. 
 
 Only, you should know that when Dick was 
 elected, Caspar said, “You ’re too late to be our 
 D, Dick, for that letter was taken up by Kate 
 Davenport Earle.” 
 
 “ Why, that’s all right,” said Dick, “ for now 
 I can be your E. Did n’t you know that my 
 name is Richard Edgar Grimes ? ” 
 
 “Hurrah!” shouted Arthur. “You come 
 straight and regular in the Caxton alphabet! ” 
 
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
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