ng with the luggage--not while Arthur might get nervous. So I
told the desk clerk that in case anybody came inquiring for Mr.
Schlaepfer, which was the name I was using--my real name being Sam
Dunlap--he was to be told that on no account was he to go to my room
but to wait in the lobby; and in any case I would be back in an hour.

"Sure," said the desk clerk, holding out his hand.

I crossed it with paper. "One other thing," I said. "I need to buy an
electric typewriter and some other stuff. Where can I get them?"

"PX," he said promptly.

"PX?"

"What used to be Macy's," he explained. "You go out that door and turn
right. It's only about a block. You'll see the sign."

"Thanks." That cost me a hundred more, but it was worth it. After all,
money wasn't a problem--not when we had just come from Philadelphia.

* * * * *

The big sign read "PX," but it wasn't big enough to hide an older sign
underneath that said "Macy's." I looked it over from across the
street.

Somebody had organized it pretty well. I had to admire them. I mean I
don't like New York--wouldn't live there if you gave me the place--but
it showed a sort of go-getting spirit. It was no easy job getting a
full staff together to run a department store operation, when any city
the size of New York must have a couple thousand stores. You know what
I mean? It's like running a hotel or anything else--how are you going
to get people to work for you when they can just as easily walk down
the street, find a vacant store and set up their own operation?

But Macy's was fully manned. There was a guard at every door and a
walking patrol along the block-front between the entrances to make
sure nobody broke in through the windows. They all wore green armbands
and uniforms--well, lots of people wore uniforms.

I walked over.

"Afternoon," I said affably to the guard. "I want to pick up some
stuff. Typewriter, maybe a gun, you know. How do you work it here?
Flat rate for all you can carry, prices marked on everything, or what
is it?"

He stared at me suspiciously. He was a monster; six inches taller than
I, he must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. He didn't look
very smart, which might explain why he was working for somebody else
these days. But he was smart enough for what he had to do.

He demanded: "You new in town?"

I nodded.

He thought for a minute. "All right, buddy. Go on in. You pick out
what you want, se