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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, September 21, 1912, Image 20',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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be hurt any. . I'll just shift you
away from that there telegraph."
rHe carried-her in the chair into
the center of the office and then
se"t about his task. Inside the
1 drawer, neatly stacked into sep
arate compartments; were varfous
piles of bills five fifties, a heap of
twenties, and several tens and
fives. There must have been
more nearly a thousand than .five
hundred dollars, besides aheap of
silver, which Menzies prudently
left behind. He would need to
travel lightly that evening.
Afterward with his knife he
ripped up -the registered mail
bag.t Here disappointment met
him; he had not calculated that
itwas the day before pay day, and
tfiat the mait would be light. He
thrust a bundle of the more prom
ising looking letters into his
pockets. Meanwhile, evidently
completely cowed and frightened,
the, girl lay back in the chair,
watching him with wide-open,
horrified eyes. Menzies antici
pated, no trouble from her. He
rose; he was going to put the tel
egraph and telephone out of com
mission. The former enterprise
he had already accomplished with
a" small fire ax which lay conven
iently to hand; hut as he ap
proached the latter instrument,
considering where to begin, the
girl spoke for the first time :
"Won't you do something for
me first?" she asked piteously.
"Sure, miss," answered Men
zies, grinning. "Except put back
them bills." '
""No, no, It isn't that," she an
swered hastily. "It's my father.
He'll lose his position for this and
he's too old to get employment
Menzies leered at her amiably.
"Sorry to get him fired from his
job," he said. "Whatcher want
me to do? Get him another?"
"Wish I.could helphe old gen
tleman," pursued Menzies. "But
I got to skip "
"He - isn't old," returned the
girl angrily. "But he's -served
the company for twenty-two
years, and tonight the superinten
dent sent for him to offer him the
post at Howland Junction. He'll '
be accused of having stolen this
"Well, what kin I do?" Menzies
growled. "Divvy up with him?"
"No. I want you to leave a
message saying that you took "the
money. I'll I'll write it for you
on my typewriter," she added
with trembling lips, while her
heart began beating furiously.
"It won't take a moment. And
it's his position."
Menzies was tickled by the idea.
As a tramp he had acquired the
habit of leaving impudent mes
sages on the walls of hostile farm
buildings ; this struck him as hu
morous. Besides, nobody knew
his scrawl. "Sure, miss," he an
swered. "Only, you see, my ed-i
dication was rather neglected
after I left college, and I ain't a
first-class speller." -
"I only want you to put your
name to it," answered the girl.
"May I go to the typewriter?"
As Menzies watched her sus
piciously, she rose and drew herj