this chinnin'. Why can't th' ol' nabob write a letter, like common
folks, an' give his extry cash to the poor?"

"Meanin' you, Peggy?" asked Nib Corkins, with a chuckle.

"He might do wuss ner that," retorted Peggy. "Lor' knows I'm poor
enough. You don't ketch _me_ a-talkin' to New York at a dollar a throw,
Nib, do ye?"

Meantime Mr. Merrick had succeeded in getting Mr. Marvin, of the banking
house of Isham, Marvin & Co., on the wire.

"Do me a favor, Marvin," he said. "Hunt up the best supply house and
have them send me a complete outfit to print a daily newspaper.
Everything must be modern, you know, and don't let them leave out
anything that might come handy. Then go to Corrigan, the superintendent
of the railroad, and have him send the freight up here to Chazy
Junction by a special engine, for I don't want a moment's delay and the
regular freight takes a week or so. Charge everything to my account and
impress upon the dealer the need of haste. Understand all that, Marvin?"

"I think I do, sir," was the reply; "but that's a pretty big order, Mr.
Merrick. The outfit for a modern daily will cost a small fortune."

"Never mind; send it along."

"Very well. But you'd better give me some details. How big a newspaper
do you want to print?"

"Hold the wire and I'll find out," said Uncle John. Then he opened the