es without which the
newspaper could not continue. He was cool, efficient, seemed to have
eyes everywhere and know everything going on in the entire building. He
spent neither greetings nor reproaches on me, indeed was not looking in
my direction but somehow sensed my presence through his back, for he
said without turning round, "Weener, if you have concluded your
unaccountable peregrinations remove the two files marked E1925 and E1926
to Pomona. If you mislay one scrap of paper they contain--the bartering
of a thousand Weeners being an inadequate equivalent--your miserable
substance will be attached to four tractors headed in divergent
directions. Don't come back here, but attempt for once to palliate the
offense of your birth and go interview that Francis female. Interview
her, not yourself. Bring back a story, complete and terse, or commit the
first sensible act of your life with any weapon you choose and charge
the instrument to the _Intelligencer_."

"I havent the slightest idea where Miss Francis is to be found."

He took a pinch of snuff, issued orders to four or five other people and
continued calmly, "I am not conducting a school of journalism; if I were
I should have a special duncecap imported solely for your use. The
lowest copyboy knows better than to utter such an inanity. You will find
the Francis and interview her. I'm busy. Get the hell out of here and
handle those files carefully if you value that cadaver you probably
think of as the repository of your soul."

I am not a drayman and I resented the menial duty of sliding those heavy
filecases down four flights of stairs; but at a time like this, I
thought philosophically, a man has duties he cannot shirk; besides, Le
ffacase was old, I could afford to humor him even if it meant demeaning
myself.

With one of the cases in back, I sadly regarded the other one occupying
most of the front seat. If she had at least given me her name I would
have searched and searched until I found her. This train of thought
reminded me of Le ffacase's command to find Miss Francis and so I
concentrated my attention on getting away from the _Intelligencer_
office.

It was no light labor; the stalled streetcars and automobiles presented
grave hazards to the unwary. The air smelt of death, and nervously I
pressed the accelerator to get away quickly from this tomb. I crossed
the dry riverbed and made my way slowly to Pomona, delivered the files,
and reluctantly began seekin