The record-union., 1896-05-17
THE OFFICE BOYS SCHEME.
1t Enabled the Typewriter Girl TO Col
leCt One Third of Her Wages.

The Office boy peered around the cor
ners of the desk till he was quite sure
that he and the typewriter girl were left
alone to uphold the glory of the office.
and then the enthusiasm engendered by
the Importance of his knowledge got
the better of his discretion and he
leaned forward and coughed conf
dentially.
Say" he whispered, ed ye get yer
check today?"
The typewriter girl pushed back her
heap of specifications and mechanically
took up a memorandum which she kept
on her copy-holder ready for reference
whenever a sense of her deplora BILE
financial condition overpowered her
NO" she said, and a sigh of great
volume and intensity welled up from
the innerinost depths of her soul and
she shook her head disconsolately, Il
didn't. Did you?"
The office boy drew himself up
proudly.
Yer bet I did It's a cold day when 1
get left. But 1 found out this mornin'
that you was a-goin to get what the
Dutchman shot at. / en- tell yer more'n
that, too. But it's all on the q. t., mind
you. The boss s got it in for you. an
judgin' by the icy color of a few re-
marks I overheard you'll be a good
many days older'n you are now before
you'll get a spiel ON his bank account" ="
The typewriter girl caught at her
breath with an asthmatic little gasp
and her lips twitched.
What do you mean?" she asked,
quickly
Now, remember, if you ever give me
away it'll be all day with you said the
office boy, once more appealing to her
honor not to betray him, but the case
stands this way: 1 heard the boss tell
that chump that comes down here with
him every day that you don't need
money and that he's goin' to look out
for ever body else that has a bill on the
docket before he gives you anything,
and, what's more, he says that if you
ask for money again he'll give you SO
on account and let you go to the devil.
1t looks pretty tough, / must say, but
that's what he said, and he come pretty
near meanin' every word of it. Some
how he's got it into his head that you're
runnin' a Government bond business of
your own on the side, and that you're
week don't cut no figure. How much
does his string lack of measurin' even
with the tail end of your kite? Border
in onto the 500 mark, amt it?''
The typewriter rescued the memoran-
dunn from the waste-basket, where it
bad dropped from her nerveless fingers,
and looked hopelessly at the bewilder-
ing array of figures written thereon.
Yes" she assented listlessly, its
bordering on
And you've run up a board bill and
a laundry bill and a doctors bill and a
newspaper bill and can't go to church
Easter Sunday without a new dress
Amt that the shape of the rail that
you're balanced on now?'
The typewriter girl moaned with the
excess of her mental agony.
Yes" she cried, but what can 1 do?
I can't write out my own checks or rob
a bank or take the money from him by
mere physical force
The office boys eyes danced and scin-
tillated with the brilliancy of his idea
and he chuckled ghoulishly
You can play the dress racket with
out any ready cash. he confided glibly.
''The old man has been throwin' dirt at
you, and you can take a hand at mud
slingin' yerself. Just go over to the
store and order your outfit and have it
charged UP to him. He's got the
money; I saw it, and he can't very we'll
get out of payin' when it comes to such
a fine point as that It's the only way
you'll ever get anything"
II don't like to do that" she argued
1T wouldn't be right
The Office boy glared at her blankly.
''Oh, no. he retorted, cit wouldn't be
right but it's the proper thing for you
to lose your wages"
The typewriter girl pondered the ques-
ton in ethics for one night, and the
next day at noon she did her shopping.
A day later a bill for one third of the
amount due her was presented to the
head of the firm by Worstell Brothers
&, Co., on account of Miss Daily The
head of the firm eyed it a moment in
awe-stricken silence. Then he went
to his typewriter for an explanation.
Miss Daily" he said sternly, "did I
ever authorize any such expenditure as
this? What does it mean?"
The office boy darted her a beseech-
ing look from his station behind piles
of dusty papers, but the typewriter's
dander was up and she did not heed
him.
"It means" she answered softly. "that
if I am to take a trip to purgatorial re-
gions I am going to travel in first-class
style, that's ALL
And the head of the firm paid the bill
Chicago Daily News.