office. And that's why I sent for you so early. I want you to go down to
the office and help Ralph."

"Oh, I'll just love to!" and Dorothy was really pleased at the prospect
of working on the paper, in spite of the unfortunate circumstance---her
father's illness--that gave her the chance.

"Not so fast now. You must pay strict attention--"

"But you are not to talk: you have had a fever, from fatigue, you know,
and it might come back. Just let me go to the office and I will promise
to return for instructions at the very first trouble Ralph meets."

Dorothy was already on her feet. She knew the very worst thing the major
could do in his present condition would be to talk business.

"Now I'm off," she said, with a kiss and an assuring smile, "you will be
proud of to-morrow's Bugle. 'All about Memorial Day!' 'Get the Bugle if
you want the news!'" she added, in true newsboy style. Then Aunt Libby
came in to wait on the major.

But Dorothy's heart was not as light as her smile had been. Her father
looked very ill, and the bread and butter of the Dale household depended
upon the getting out of the Bugle.

Her brothers, Joe and Roger, had been sent to school early to be out of
the way, but to-morrow they might both stay home, thought the sister,
for they could help sell papers.

"Father never would let the boys do it," she reflected, "but he is sick