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Updated: May 10, 2025
Cashell snorted within, and Shaynor settled himself up in his chair over which he had thrown a staring red, black, and yellow Austrian jute blanket, rather like a table-cover. I cast about, amid patent medicine pamphlets, for something to read, but finding little, returned to the manufacture of the new drink. The Italian warehouse took down its game and went to bed.
The wind's nearly blowing the fur off him." I saw the belly-fur of the dead beast blown apart in ridges and streaks as the wind caught it, showing bluish skin underneath. "Bitter cold," said Mr. Shaynor, shuddering. "Fancy going out on a night like this! Oh, here's young Mr. Cashell."
Cashell who revealed to me the purpose and power of Apothecaries' Hall what time a fellow-chemist had made an error in a prescription of mine, had lied to cover his sloth, and when error and lie were brought home to him had written vain letters. "A disgrace to our profession," said the thin, mild-eyed man, hotly, after studying the evidence.
"I've always said that he knew something that made it very well worth while for this firm to keep his mouth shut," said Miss Cashell, darkly. "I'll bet you there's something in that," Miss Cottle agreed. "H. B. & H. is losing money hand over fist," Thorny stated, gloomily, with that intimate knowledge of an employer's affairs always displayed by an obscure clerk.
"If you would mind your own affairs for about five minutes, Miss Thornton," Elsie Kirk was saying passionately, as Susan came in, "you'd be a good deal better off!" "I consider what concerns Front Office concerns me!" said Miss Thornton loftily. "Ah, don't!" Miss Sherman murmured pitifully. "If Violet wasn't such a darn FOOL " Miss Cashell said lightly, and stopped. "What IS it?" asked Susan.
Shaynor and I stamped on the tiled floor behind the counter to keep ourselves warm. The shop, by the light of the many electrics, looked like a Paris-diamond mine, for Mr. Cashell believed in all the ritual of his craft.
"Well, of course not!" Miss Cashell said quickly, "but " "No, you're doing the dignified thing, Violet," Miss Thornton said, with approval, "and you'll feel glad, later on, that you acted this way. And, as far as my carrying tales, I never carried one.
And perhaps he never did. If he did, the office presented him a blank and innocent face. "Miss Brown, did you see this bill Mr. Brauer speaks of?" "Beg pardon? Oh, no, Miss Thornton." "Miss Cashell, did you? " "Just-one-moment-Miss-Thornton-until-I-foot-up- this-column. Thank you! No. No, I haven't seen it, Miss Thornton. Did you trace it to my desk, Mr. Brauer?" Baffled, Mr.
So that was why he knocked the chair down?" "I hope I haven't missed anything," I said. "I'm afraid I can't say that, but you're just in time for the end of a rather curious performance. You can come in, too, Mr. Shaynor. Listen, while I read it off." The Morse instrument was ticking furiously. Mr. Cashell interpreted: "'K.K.V. Can make nothing of your signals." A pause.
He rolled his eyes heavily full on me, and, as I stared, I beheld all meaning and consciousness die out of the swiftly dilating pupils. His figure lost its stark rigidity, softened into the chair, and, chin on chest, hands dropped before him, he rested open-eyed, absolutely still. "I'm afraid I've rather cooked Shaynor's goose," I said, bearing the fresh drink to young Mr. Cashell.
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