The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1909-01-04
THE TACOMA TINES
DAILY SHORT STORY
BY Stuart Il. Stone.

UNIFORM, and, by moving leve
easily to and fro, shot a car flu
OF nervous, hurrying people fror
the marble-tiled, cavern, like frs
floor of the Syndicate building
She was a blond stenographer-;
very pretty one-and for sever
hours in a day she sped her wei
manicured fingers over the key.
board, writing dull, market-firm
market-slack letters for Tomlin-
son, the broker. Tomlinson call
ed her a jewel-and paid her IS
a week.
There had been no definite
words spoken between Billy
Killing, lord of the elevator, and
Miss Maggie Sloan; but there was
at least an understanding. And
Mr.. King read the How-to-live-on-
six-dollars-a-week ARTICLES in the
Sunday papers and schemed for
more cash in his pay-envelope.
Things were just that way when
Rooney, the advertising agent,
took a hand. Rooney had a six
by-nine office on the twenty-eighth
floor, a discerning eye in the mat
ter of beautiful, blond stenograph-
ers, and the tongue that God or
nature gave to his splendid race.
Good morning, Miss LeGrand,"
he saluted her one morning, and
then apologized-you see, he had
mistaken her for the leading lady
at the Olympic. 1t was a beauti-
full introduction, and the poor lit
tie typewriter girl had an attack
of headturnitis.
Mr.. King overheard the bit of
gallantry, and warned the lady.
Watch out for that duck, Rooney.
he's smooth as cut glass"
And, of course, the warning was
thrown away.
Billy King, grumbled, waxed a
little desperate, then considered in
his mind the possibilities of sui
cide, exile, drunkenness and the
running away to sea. After that
he came back to his excellent ele
ivator-boy self and did the best hi
could. And Maggie, in the privac!
I of her tenement boulder, laid hi
S ten-cent roses away with Mr.. Roo
ney's bon-bon boxes, and smile,
yl-and sometimes cried.
Then, one day, Billy Killing halt
led his swift car at IT. AS h
y tclosed his cage, he heard familia
d voices in the half-gloom.
Il upstairs at twelve-lunch to
: fgether" M. Rooney was suggest
hing.
d And Miss Sloan was answering
: ssThanks-so good of you"
u Billy Killing almost let his pas
/ lsengers drop through the thir
floor below the sidewalk. The
; he ragged for a while and mourne
a for a while, and after that he pre-
ceeded into action.
n This Is the note he produce
Dear Mag:-If you lunch
with that swell bloke, Roo
s. ney, it is all off with you and
=, me. l will jump off the Will
liamsburg bridge or marry
Sally Ryan, the newsstand
cashier. Then both our hearts
el will bleed. You had better
o lunch with me down at the
| CoplC II dNOlltc. hllt 10
true love and no mistake, and
you will be happy. Billy"
- Then he dispatched his ultima
- tum of love, and until noon tn
: busy workers of the towering Syn
q dictate suffered narrow escapes i
F" their entrances and exits into an
from loves elevator. At noon, tn
toilers from the American Thin
IL BILE corporation general office
on the thirtieth floor huddled in
II to No. 2 car and Billy Kiln
e dropped with them. Nearing tn
seventeenth floor, he slowed III
A gray-clad, petite figure stood b
the caging, reading pinkish note
She had already registered Cup.
Mr.. King halted his car an
gazed upon the lady. The lad
gazed upon Mr.. Kling-then rea
again--and gazed. The irritabl
passengers fretted, hungering 70
their quick lunch.
"Up-kid-she wants up. Go O
down."
But Mr.. King allowed his sou
to shine through his gray eyes d.
rect to the lady who read.
"Going down, Maggie?" he ask
ed, in a low, pleading voice.
"Going down, Billy!" said Mag
gie-and stepped into the car c
true love and no mistake.