The "pressman"was now the man—of—all—worka about the modest but trim little publishing plant.He attended to whatever job printing came in，made the etchings fromHetty's drawings，cast the stereotypes，made up the formsand operated the press.But aside from this mechanical work Smith took the telegraphic news received by Hetty，edited and condensed it and wrote the black—letter headings over the various items.All this，with a general supervision over the girl compositors，kept the man busy from daybreak to midnight.
In spite of this，the Tribune was essentially a "girls'
paper，"since Thursday Smith was the only man employed on it—not counting the "dummy"editor，Arthur Weldon，who did nothing but keep the books，and found this not an arduous task.Hetty，at Miss Briggs'desk，attended the telegraph instrument and long—distance telephone，receiving news over both wires，and still found time to draw her daily cartoons and additional humorous sketches which she "worked in"whenever the mood seized her.The typesetting was done by the Dwyer sisters—a colorless pair but quite reliable—while the reportorial and editorial work was divided between Louise，Beth and Patsy，none of whom shirked a single duty.Indeed，they had come to love this work dearly and were enthusiastic over the Tribune，which they fondly believed was being watched with envious admiration by all the journalistic world.
This belief was not wholly due to egotism.Their "exchanges，"both city and country，had shown considerable interest in the"Millville Experiment，"as they called it，and only a few days before the leading journal of a good—sized city had commented at length on the"girls'newspaper "and，after indulging in some humorous remarks，concluded quite seriously with the statement that "its evident sincerity，clean contents and typographical neatness render the Millville Daily Tribune worthy a better setting than the somnolent country village whose census is too low to be of？cially recorded.""But that's all right，"said Patsy，smiling at the praise；"we'd never have dared to start a newspaper anywhere else，because a journal that will do for Millville might not make a hit if it bumped against experienced competition.""We were woefully ignorant when we began，a few weeksago，"commented Beth，glancing with pride at her latest editorial，which she thought had caught the oraculara tone of the big city newspapers.
"And we're not expert journalists，even yet，"addedLouise，with a sigh."We've improved，to be sure；but I imagine there is still lots of room for improvement.""One trouble，"said Patsy，"is that every inhabitant ofMillville wants to see his or her name in print every day，whether he or she has done anything worthy of publication or not.If the name isn't printed，we've made an enemy；and，if it is，the paper is sure to suffer more or less ridicule.""That is quite true，my dear，"responded Louise，thereporter."I've said everything，about every one of them，that has ever happened，or threatened to happen，since we started the paper，and it is driving me crazy to discover anything more about these stupid natives that will do to print."Hetty had overheard this conversation and now looked up with a smile.
"Has your 'local happenings'column been prepared for to—morrow，Mrs.Weldon？"she inquired.
"No；I'm about to start out to unearth some items，"replied Louise，wearily.
"Let me do it for you.I've an hour or so to spare and I won't need to leave my desk，"suggested the artist.
"It is my duty，you know，Hetty，and I've no right to evade it.""Evade it for to—day.Go home and rest.I'll do your column for to—morrow，and after the vacation you can tackle the thrilling situations with better courage.""Thank you，Hetty.But I won't go home.I'll wait here tosee Fogerty.""Fogerty ！"exclaimed the artist，with a start of surprise."Do you mean the detective ？""Yes，"said Louise，regretting she had inadvertently mentioned the name.
"But what is there now to detect ？"asked Hetty suspiciously.
"Our troubles seem ended with the burning of the mill and the？itting of Skeelty and his workmen."Louise hardly knew how to reply；but Patsy，who trusted the queer girl artist，said quite frankly：
"There remains the mystery of Thursday Smith to fathoma，you know."Hetty ？ushed and an indignant look swept over her face."What right has anyone to solve that mystery？"she askedde？antly."Isn't that Thursday Smith's own business？""Perhaps，"returned Patsy，somewhat amused；"but Smithhasn't been able to discover who he is—or was，rather—and seems really anxious to know."Hetty bent over her desk for a time.Then she looked up and her thin features were white and drawn with anxiety.
"When you discover who Thursday Smith is，"said she，"the Millville Tribune will lose its right bower.""Why ？""Before his accident，or whatever it was that made him lose his memory，he was an unusual man，a man of exceptional ability.You know that.""We are all inclined to admit it，"answered Patsy."Butwhat then ？""Men of ability，"declared Hetty slowly，"are of two classes：the very successful，who attain high and honorable positions，or the clever scoundrels who fasten themselves like leeches on humanity and bleed their victims with heartless unconcern.What will you gain if you unmask the past ofThursday Smith？You uncover a roguea or a man of affairs，and in either case you will lose your pressman.Better leave the curtain drawn，Miss Doyle，and accept Thursday Smith as he is."There was so much good sense in this reasoning that all three girls were impressed and began to regret that Uncle John had called Fogerty to untangle the skein.But it was now too late for such repentanceb and，after all，they were curious to discover who their remarkable employee really was.
Even while the awkward silence that had fallen upon the group of girls continued，the door opened to admit Uncle John，Fogerty，Major Doyle and Arthur Weldon.Except for the detective they were stern—faced and uncompromising.
