He stood in the doorway a moment, attentively eyeing the girl, while she in turn examined him with an amusement she could not quite suppress.  Then he said, speaking in a low, diffident voice: 

“I’m lookin’ for the editor.”

“I am the editor,” asserted Patsy.

“Really?”

“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?”

“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.

“First,” he began, “I want to compliment you on your new paper.  It’s a good thing, and I like it.  It’s what’s been needed in these ’ere parts a long time, and it’s talked about all over Chazy County.”

“Thank you,” said the editor briefly, for the praise was given in a perfunctory way that irritated her.

“The only other papers in this senatorial deestric’, which covers three counties,” continued the visitor, in impressive tones, “air weeklies, run by political mud-slingers that’s bought up by the Kleppish gang.”

“What is the Kleppish gang?” she asked, wonderingly.

“The supporters o’ that rascal, Colonel Kleppish, who has been occupyin’ my berth for goin’ on eight years,” he said with fierce indignation.

“I fear I do not understand,” remarked Patsy, really bewildered.  “What was your berth, which Colonel Kleppish has—­has usurped?”

“See that ‘Honer’ble’ on the card?”

“I do.”

“That means I were senator—­state senator—­which makes any common man honer’ble, accordin’ to law, which it’s useless to dispute.  I were elected fer this deestric’, which covers three counties,” he said proudly, “an’ I served my country in that capacity.”

“Oh, I see.  But you’re not state senator now?”

“No; Kleppish beat me for the nomination, after I’d served only one term.”

“Why?”

“Eh?  Why did he git the nomination?  ’Cause he bought up the newspapers—­the country weeklies—­and set them to yellin’ ‘graft.’  He made ’em say I went into office poor, and in two years made a fortune.”

“Did you?” asked the girl.

He shuffled in his seat.