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Updated: June 2, 2025
"Yes; he told me to do that, and I will," said she, more quietly. "He is Skeelty's partner." "And you're not afraid of him?" "Why should I be, Mr. West?" He smiled. "I'm justice of the peace here. If there's a hint of trouble from Boglin or Skeelty, come directly to me." "Thank you, Mr. West. I will." With this he nodded cheerfully and went away.
People don't know I'm in that deal, and of course this is all confidential and not to be talked about." "Very well, sir. But I fear you have mistaken the character of our paper," said Patsy quietly. "We are quite independent, Mr. Boglin, and intend to remain so even if we can't make the paper pay. In other words, the Millville Daily Tribune can't be bought."
"This ain't the end of it, girl!" "There are ten seconds left," she said. He picked up his card, turned his back and walked out, leaving his opponent trembling betwixt agitation and righteous indignation. A few moments later Bob West came in and looked at the girl editor curiously. "Ojoy Boglin has been here," he said.
"It is quite true." He seemed disconcerted a moment, striving to regain his assurance. Then he took out a well-worn pocketbook and from its depths abstracted a soiled card which, leaning forward, he placed carefully upon the table before Patsy. She glanced at it and read: "Hon. Ojoy Boglin, Hooker's Falls, Chazy County." "Oh," said she, rather surprised; "are you Mr. Boglin?"
Bob West glanced at the printing office, which was directly in line with the explosion; then he cast a shrewd look into the white face of Thursday Smith; but the old hardware merchant merely muttered under his breath something about Ojoy Boglin and shook his head determinedly when questioned by his fellow villagers. Interest presently centered in the damage that had been done.
"The Honer'ble Ojoy, if you please," answered Patsy, with a laugh that bordered on hysteria. The hardware man nodded, his eyes reading her face. "You were quite right to turn him down," he asserted. "It was the only thing to do," responded the girl, wondering how he knew. "But Boglin is a dangerous man," resumed West. "Look out for him. Miss Doyle."
"I am the Honer'ble Ojoy Boglin, miss," he replied, dwelling lovingly upon the "Honer'ble." "I have not had the honor of your acquaintance," said she, deciding she did not like her visitor. "What is your business, please?" The Hon. Ojoy coughed. Then he suddenly remembered he was in the presence of a lady and took off his hat. Next he slid slowly into the vacant chair at the end of the table.
No respectable candidate for office would attempt to buy the support of a newspaper, and I advise you to change the wording on your card. Instead of 'Honorable' it should read 'Dishonorable' Ojoy Boglin. Good day, sir!" Mr. Boglin's face turned white with rage. He half rose from his seat, but sat down again with a vicious snarl.
Below the drawing were the words: "Mr. Skimton Clark, cowward." A few other local hits were concluded by a picture of Hon. Ojoy Boglin shaking his fist at Mr. Skeelty, who held a package of money in his grasp labeled "insurance." Below was the simple legend: "O Joy!"
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