The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1916-08-22
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
MYSTERIOUS
.ABY Louise OLIVER
.tcopyright, 1916, by the Mcclure

.t~Copyrtght, 1916, by the Mcclure
Newspaper Syndicate.)
gsNsHRS. GREEN, what does Mr.,
lVI Davis do for a living?"
~ why, l don't know, Miss
Wilson. He's Just so nice his nice
ness seems to cover everything, and
1 IL 1 lever was curious about 1t I got
over It long ago. Some folks have
enough money without working"
yes, I know, but it seems so queer
the way he lives, l mean. Out at
night, or at least until 2 or 8 o'clock,
and sleeping any old time at all. My
room is next to his and l can hear
him come in"
AFTER you've been In New York
awhile you'll get used to that. Why,
the scabarets don't get n good start
until midnight. Don't worry about
the second-floor front, Miss Wilson.
! never had a better paying boarder,
and always a month in advance AID
o kind word and a smile at that.
Sometimes l don't see him for a week
at a time. He comes and he goes,
but he doesn't bother anyone"
Winifred dropped the argument
without giving her real reason for
inquiry. She, too, liked her merry,
happy-go-lucky nelghbor and she was
afraid Of doing him an injustice.
Here's my money for next week,
Mrs. Green. Those were nice melons
we Ihad for breakfast" And, putting
ron her sailor hat, she started for the
isffice.
It had happened this way: The
night before, while getting some copy
ready to send In. the keys of her
typewriter had locked. She tried to
tixi 1t, but things went wrong and be-
fore she knew it the whole affair was
out OF commission.
""Oh, pshaw!" she cried, pushing
and tugging this way aud that.
!.What shall I do? Carpenter won't
be bothered with long hand and this
has to be at the Office l n an hour"
Just then she heard q step in the
hall. There's Mr.. Davis. ] wonder
ifl he can do anything?"
She flew to the door and opened It.
sMr. Dayis!" she called. But he had
entered his own room and was Just
shutting the door.
Co nc ahoWeltut tuSlduSly
opening It again. What can 1 do
for you, Miss Wilson,"
And while Winifred was trying to
explain her predicament, she was
also trying hard not to betray the
fact that she saw an automatic gun
and some queer-looking instruments
that he was In the act of transferring
from his pocket to a table neal the
door.
"certainly I'll come. I'm a regu-
lar Mr.. Fixit. l was just thinking of
hanging out a single, 'Typewriters
Repaired While You Watt"
Winifred laughed-but she saw
him throw a newspaper carelessly
over the things on the table and kick
O black bag from view with his foot.
He was as good as his word,
though, and the typewriter was soon
put into working trim again. When
the door had closed, Winifred looked
at the blank panels with her heart
beating high and her cheeks strange
Ely flushed. Was this stranger a wiz
ard? Had he bewitched her? His
voice! His laugh! His eyes! She went
back to her work. but her fingers
seemed stiff and awkward and the
words wouldn't come right.
Had she known 1t, Ed Davis, too,
was looking back at the panels as
though trying to conjure up another
picture Of her gray-blue eyes. sweet,
serious smile and color that came and
went provokingly. Then his own eyes
became serious as he though Of what