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Updated: June 10, 2025
She had reached her chair, but she had not had time to reseat herself when she beheld him approaching with the bundle of loose sheets clutched in his hand. "I want you to sit here and read," said he, laying the manuscript down on a small table near the wall under a gas-jet which he immediately lighted. "I am going back to my own desk. If you want to speak, you may; I shall not be working."
And yet no supper was provided here nothing but beds. Hurstwood laid down his fifteen cents and crept off with weary steps to his allotted room. It was a dingy affair wooden, dusty, hard. A small gas-jet furnished sufficient light for so rueful a corner. "Hm!" he said, clearing his throat and locking the door.
They rushed down the stairs, scattering a group of small boys who were roasting chestnuts at the gas-jet in the passage, and on through the box-room, but only to find the door on the other side standing wide open, and the gymnasium itself silent and deserted two empty water-cans, lying in a big pool of wet on the cement floor, being the only remaining traces of the recent outrage.
The premature night was closing in miserably, with increasing rain, and a doleful whistle of rising wind round the corner. At last she shut up the unconsidered cash-book, lighted another gas-jet, and striding to the door, rapped sharply on the glass. "Bring everything in!" she called to the boy, and helped out his apprehension by a comprehensive gesture.
Clear out," growled Kennedy. They retreated precipitately, and Craig hastily opened his bag of tools. "Quick, Walter, shut the door and hold it," exclaimed Craig, working rapidly. He unwrapped a little package and took out a round, flat disc-like thing of black vulcanised rubber. Jumping up on a table, he fixed it to the top of the reflector over the gas-jet.
He had deliberately watched this young woman at the press. He had clearly seen her staring under the gas-jet at the copied letter.
That collection of little steel picklocks and a jimmy! He would need those. He felt for them in one of the pockets of the leather girdle, transferred them to the pocket of his ragged trousers, and slipped the base-board back into place. And now he stepped to the gas-jet, and turned out the light.
The tumult suddenly subsided, and there was a rush for the passage. Hardly had this stampede been accomplished when some one struck a match and lit the gas-jet nearest the door: it was Gull. He stood for a moment looking round the room with a sardonic smile upon his face, evidently very well pleased with the sight which met his gaze.
"What are you so busy about?" she said impatiently, as Ann Eliza, beneath the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. "Ain't you even got time to ask me if I'd had a pleasant day?" Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. "I guess I don't have to. Seems to me it's pretty plain you have." "Well, I don't know. I don't know HOW I feel it's all so queer. I almost think I'd like to scream."
Framed thus in the aperture, a young man stood within the shop under a bright central gas-jet; he was gazing intently at a large sheet of paper which he held in his outstretched hands, and the girls saw him in profile: tall, rather lanky, fair, with hair dishevelled, and a serious, studious, and magnanimous face; quite unconscious that he made a picture for unseen observers.
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