Aunt Jane's Nieces on Vacation

by L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER VI

  MR. SKEELTY OF THE MILL

  The next morning they drove to town again, passing slowly up the streetof the little village to examine each building that might be a possiblelocation for a newspaper office. Here is a map that Patsy drew ofMillville, which gives a fair idea of its arrangement:

  Village Street]

  Counting the dwellings there were exactly twelve buildings, and they allseemed occupied.

  When they reached the hardware store, opposite Cotting's, Mr. West, theproprietor, was standing on the broad platform in front of it. In manyrespects Bob West was the most important citizen of Millville. Tall andgaunt, with great horn spectacles covering a pair of cold gray eyes, hewas usually as reserved and silent as his neighbors were confiding andtalkative. A widower of long standing, without children or nearrelatives, he occupied a suite of well-appointed rooms over the hardwarestore and took his meals at the hotel. Before Mr. Merrick appeared onthe scene West had been considered a very wealthy man, as it was knownhe had many interests outside of his store; but compared with themulti-millionaire old Bob had come to be regarded more modestly,although still admitted to be the village's "warmest" citizen. He was anauthority in the town, too, and a man of real importance.

  Mr. Merrick stopped his horse to speak with the hardware man, an oldacquaintance.

  "West," said he, "my girls are going to start a newspaper in Millville."

  The merchant bowed gravely, perhaps to cover the trace of a smile hewas unable to repress.

  "It's to be a daily paper, you know," continued Mr. Merrick, "and itseems there's a lot of machinery in the outfit. It'll need quite a bitof room, in other words, and we're looking for a place to install it."

  West glanced along the street--up one side and down the other--and thenshook his head negatively.

  "Plenty of land, but no buildings," said he. "You might buy the old milland turn it into a newspaper office. Caldwell isn't making much of aliving and would be glad to sell out."

  "It's too dusty and floury," said Patsy. "We'd never get it clean, I'msure."

  "What's in that shed of yours?" asked Uncle John, pointing to a long,low building' that adjoined the hardware store.

  West turned and looked at the shed reflectively.

  "That is where I store my stock of farm machinery," he said. "There'svery little in there now, for it's a poor season and I didn't lay inmuch of a supply. In fact, I'm pretty well cleaned out of all surplusstock. But next spring I shall need the place again."

  "Good!" cried Mr. Merrick. "That solves our problem. Has it a floor?"

  "Yes; an excellent one; but only one small window."

  "We can remedy that," declared Uncle John. "Here's the proposition,West: Let us have the shed for six months, at the end of which time wewill know whether the _Millville Tribune_ is a success or not. If it is,we'll build a fine new building for it; if it don't seem to prosper,we'll give you back the shed. What do you say?"

  West thought it over.

  "There is room on the rear platform, for all the farm machinery I nowhave on hand. All right, Mr. Merrick; I'll move the truck out and giveyou possession. It won't make a bad newspaper office. But of course youare to fit up the place at your own expense."

  "Thank you very much, sir!" exclaimed Uncle John. "I'll set Lon Taft atwork at once. Where can he be found?"

  "Playing billiards at the hotel, usually. I suppose he is there now."

  "Very good; I'll hunt him up. What do you think of our newspaper scheme,West?"

  The old merchant hesitated. Then he said slowly:

  "Whatever your charming and energetic nieces undertake, sir, willdoubtless be well accomplished. The typical country newspaper groansunder a load of debt and seldom gets a fair show to succeed; but in thiscase there will be no lack of money, and--why, that settles thequestion, I think. Money is the keystone to success."

  "Mr. West," said Louise, with dignity, "we are depending chiefly on theliterary merit of our newspaper to win recognition."

  "Of course; of course!" said he hastily. "Put me down as a subscriber,please, and rely upon my support at all times. It is possible, youngladies--nay, quite probable, I should say--that your originality andgenius will yet make Millville famous."

  That speech pleased Uncle John, and as the hardware merchant bowed andturned away, Mr. Merrick said in his cheeriest tones: "He's quite right,my dears, and we're lucky to have found such a fine, roomy place for ourestablishment. Before we go after the carpenter to fix it up I musttelephone to Marvin about the things we still need."

  Over the long-distance telephone Mr. Marvin reported that he had boughtthe required outfit and it was even then being loaded on the freightcars.

  "I've arranged for a special engine," he added, "and if all goes wellthe freight will be on the sidetrack at Chazy Junction on Mondaymorning. The dealer will send down three men to set up the presses andget everything in running order. But he asks if you have arranged foryour workmen. How about it, Mr. Merrick? have you plenty of competentprinters and pressmen at Millville?"

  "There are none at all," was the reply. "Better inquire how many we willneed, Marvin, and send them down here. And, by the way, hire women orgirls for every position they are competent to fill. This is going tobe a girls' newspaper, so we'll have as few men around as possible."

  "I understand, sir."

  Uncle John ordered everything he could think of and told his agent toadd whatever the supply man thought might be needed. This business beingaccomplished, he found Lon Taft at the hotel and instructed thecarpenter to put rows of windows on both sides of the shed and to buildpartitions for an editorial office and a business office at the front.

  This was the beginning of a busy period, especially for poor Uncle John,who had many details to attend to personally. The next morning theelectricians arrived and began stringing the power cables from the papermill to the newspaper office. This rendered it necessary for Mr. Merrickto make a trip to Royal, to complete his arrangement with Mr. Skeelty,the manager. He drove over with Arthur Weldon, in the buggy--four milesof hill climbing, over rough cobble-stones, into the pine forest.

  Arriving there, the visitors were astonished at the extent of the plantso recently established in this practically unknown district. The greatmill, where the wood pulp was made, was a building constructed from pineslabs and cobblestones, material gathered from the clearing in which itstood, but it was quite substantial and roomy. Adjoining the mill wasthe factory building where the pulp was rolled into print paper.Surrounding these huge buildings were some sixty small dwellings of thebungalow type, for the use of the workmen, built of rough boards, butneat and uniform in appearance. Almost in the center of this group stoodthe extensive storehouse from which all necessary supplies werefurnished the mill hands, the cost being deducted from their wages. Theelectric power plant was a building at the edge of Royal Waterfall, thelow and persistent roar of which was scarcely drowned by the rumble ofmachinery. Finally, at the edge of the clearing nearest the mills, stoodthe business office, and to this place Mr. Merrick and Arthur at onceproceeded.

  They found the office a busy place. Three or four typewriters wereclicking away, operated by sallow-faced girls, and behind a tall deskwere two bookkeepers, in one of whom Uncle John recognized--with mildsurprise--the tramp he had encountered at Chazy Junction on the morningof his arrival. The young fellow had improved in appearance, havingdiscarded his frayed gray suit for one of plain brown khaki, such asmany of the workmen wore, a supply being carried by the company's store.He was clean-shaven and trim, and a gentlemanly bearing had replaced thecareless, half defiant attitude of the former hobo. It was evident heremembered meeting Mr. Merrick, for he smiled and returned the "nabob's"nod.

  Mr. Skeelty had a private enclosed office in a corner of the room. Beingadmitted to this sanctum, the visitors found the manager to be a small,puffy individual about forty-five years of age, with shrewd, beadlikeblack eyes and an insolent assumption of super-importance. Skeeltyin
terrupted his task of running up columns of impressive figures to askhis callers to be seated, and opened the interview with characteristicabruptness.

  "You're Merrick, eh? I remember. You want to buy power, and we have itto sell. How much will you contract to take?"

  "I don't know just how much we need," answered Uncle John. "We wantenough to run a newspaper plant at Millville, and will pay for whateverwe use. I've ordered a meter, as you asked me to do, and my men are nowstringing the cables to make the connection."

  "Pah! a newspaper. How absurd," said Mr. Skeelty with scornful emphasis."Your name, Merrick, is not unknown to me. It stands for financialsuccess, I understand; but I'll bet you never made your money doing suchfool things as establishing newspapers in graveyards."

  Uncle John looked at the man attentively.

  "I shall refrain from criticising your conduct of this mill, Mr.Skeelty," he quietly observed, "nor shall I dictate what you may do withyour money--provided you succeed in making any."

  The manager smiled broadly, as if the retort pleased him.

  "Give an' take, sir; that's my motto," he said.

  "But you prefer to take?"

  "I do," was the cheerful reply. "I'll take your paper, for instance--ifit isn't too high priced."

  "In case it is, we will present you with a subscription," said UncleJohn. "But that reminds me: as a part of our bargain I want you to allowmy nieces, or any representative of the _Millville Tribune_, to takesubscriptions among your workmen."

  Mr. Skeelty stared at him a moment. Then he laughed.

  "They're mostly foreigners, Mr. Merrick, who haven't yet fully masteredthe English language. But," he added, thoughtfully, "a few among themmight subscribe, if your country sheet contains any news of interest atall. This is rather a lonely place for my men and they get dissatisfiedat times. All workmen seem chronically dissatisfied, and their womenconstantly urge them to rebellion. Already there are grumblings, andthey claim they're buried alive in this forlorn forest. Don't appreciatethe advantages of country life, you see, and I've an idea they'll beginto desert, pretty soon. Really, a live newspaper might do themgood--especially if you print a little socialistic drivel now and then."Again he devoted a moment to thought, and then continued: "Tell you whatI'll do, sir; I'll solicit the subscriptions myself, and deduct theprice from the men's wages, as I do the cost of their other supplies.But the Company gets a commission for that, of course."

  "It's a penny paper," said Uncle John. "The subscription is only thirtycents a month."

  "Delivered?"

  "I suppose so."

  "Well, I'll pay you twenty cents, and keep the balance for commission.That's fair enough."

  "Very well, Mr. Skeelty. We're after subscriptions more than money, justnow. Get all you can, at that rate."

  After signing a contract for the supply of electrical power, whereby hewas outrageously robbed but the supply was guaranteed, Mr. Merrick andArthur returned to the farm.

  "That man," said Louise's young husband, referring to the manager of thepaper mill, "is an unmitigated scoundrel, sir."

  "I won't deny it," replied Mr. Merrick. "It occurs to me he is hiringthose poor workmen at low wages and making a profit on all their livingnecessities, which he reserves the right of supplying from his ownstore. No wonder the poor fellows get dissatisfied."