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Some were writing long-hand; others were pounding away at the typewriter; others were talking in undertones to "typists" taking dictation to the machine; others were reading "copy" and altering it with huge blue pencils which made apparently unreadable smears wherever they touched the paper.
So to me the affair was a mystery. The facts were these: My patient, a young typewriter, seemingly without friends or enemies, lay in a small room of a boarding-house, afflicted with a painful but not dangerous malady.
The rented typewriter, with its enticing bank of keys, was close at hand. A thousand sheets of paper and a box of carbon waited in the drawer of Uncle Ebeneezer's desk. His worn Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases was at his elbow. And they were poor. Then Harlan laughed, for they were no longer poor, and he had wholly forgotten it.
It seemed as if Worthington were staying, perversely, later than usual. At last, however, he left with a curt nod to her. The moment the door was closed she stopped the desultory clicking of her typewriter with which she had been toying in the appearance of being busy. With Brainard she entered the board room where she had noticed Worthington and Sheppard often during the day.
That was when his conscience began to hurt him after a particularly bitter assault on Bulger in which the latter had been more than usually contemptible in the matter of the overdue debt. He felt that he had really been too hard on the fellow. And Bulger, who must have been psychically gifted himself, came over from his typewriter at that moment and borrowed an additional five without difficulty.
In the front seat were a man and woman; in the rear seat a Japanese was squeezed in among suit cases, rods, guns, saddles, and a typewriter case, while above him and all about him, fastened most intricately, sprouted a prodigious crop of deer- and elk-horns. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Hastings," Saxon cried. "Whoa!" Hastings yelled, putting on the brake and gathering his horses in to a stop alongside.
"Thank you, I think maybe I will," replied the editor, beginning to peck savagely at his typewriter, and the boys left the office. When they returned to camp after doing a few errands they were met at the landing by Billy Manners, who said with a grin: "Well, it is settled. Pete Herring and Merritt have gone to Saratoga, so we will not be bothered with them any longer."
"I told him," continued Sister Anne, "that I got forty dollars a month, and he said I could make more as a typewriter; and I said I preferred to be a manicurist." "Oh, Anita!" protested the admiring chorus. "And he was most indignant. He absolutely refused to allow me to be a manicurist. And he asked me to take a day off with him and let him show me New York.
At his second tap the door opened and the Cardinal came out, taking him by the arm without a word; and together they turned to the lift entrance. Percy ventured to make a remark as they slid noiselessly up towards the papal apartment. "I am surprised at the lift, your Eminence, and the typewriter in the audience-room." "Why, father?" "Why, all the rest of Rome is back in the old days."
Jones sitting at her sister's typewriter, or rather the typewriter her sister had used. 'What! you, Vava? Haven't you washed your hands of me too? he said rather bitterly. 'I haven't washed my hands of you. Where is Stella? she inquired in surprise, looking round, and determined to be very careful what she said to-day. 'Don't you know then? he demanded. 'Know what?
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