"Twice that," said the compositor.

"Then go to it," barked Mr. Daily. Turning to behold Mr. Maily mopping
his brow, he cried, "For heaven's sake don't let anybody see you
standing still, Maily."

"I was only thinking," said Mr. Maily.

"Whatever for?" asked Mr. Daily.

"Do you suppose--"

"Suppose nothing. Know!"

"How would it be to--to denounce beer?" asked Mr. Maily.

"Gad, but you've still got pluck," said Mr. Daily with something like
admiration. "They'd burn us right enough. But there is such a thing as
too much pluck, Maily. Think again, if you must think."

"No," Mr. Daily went on, "I doubt if a satisfactory burning can be
worked--it only comes by accident. Meanwhile, if the public won't
talk about us, we must boom ourselves;" and he sprinted to a yellow
bell-push to summon the editor.

"This peace business," said Mr. Daily to him--"_Peace must be signed!_
How's that for a new stunt? Cut out 'The Soldiers' Paper' and call
ourselves 'The Paper that gets Peace.' Get the boys together, work out
a scheme and come and show us in half-an-hour."