At last in a fit of desperation, Paul said he would call on the editor and see what kind of a man he was, anyway, and if he proved to be all right, he might be induced to join them as a guest, which would be a more polite way to put it.

They were willing to give twenty-five or thirty dollars; but they felt a delicacy in making such a proposition to an editor.
At any rate, Paul called at the office.

After climbing a crazy flight of stairs on the outside of a little rheumatic looking frame building, he found the editor seated on a stool at a case of type, setting up some matter for his next week's issue.

Boyton introduced himself.
"Well, I'll be doggoned, Paul," exclaimed the editor, jumping from the stool, "I'm almighty glad to see you," enthusiastically shaking his hand, "where in thunder are you swimming to now ?" "Oh, I'm just going up the river on a pleasure trip, with a friend of mine, on a little steamer." "Is that so.

Well, I'm glad to meet you any way.