The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1925-07-15
BY Gilmore Meherin

There was a new woman in charge
Of one of the typewriter agencies.
She asked Chickie's name in a very
curt way and jabbed her glasses
tightly on a long, thin nose. She
went swiftly over file: Miss
Bryce? You registered here last
April?"
Yes"
But you egot position through
some other company? Were you
discharged"
Chickie colored: 'Well-yes-"
"Why?"
She asked this in IAN impersonal,
businesslike manner. 1t struck
Chickie like a whip. She faltered !:
"Well-I was the newest girl
there"
"Oh-T see. and the business is
slack now. Everywhere. Don't like
to discourage you, but, it's not the
best time unless you'llt take $50 or
$75--"
mo. 1 must have 500 at the
lowest. I should get $125. In In
dianapolis [ earned $140}
They pay more-different condi-
tons. You have references?"
IT can get them, I suppose"
you might. as welk-some are
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. not-Rll phone If
anything comes in. You may have
to wait"
other girls were sitting at the
typewritting practicing. They list
ened to this interview. yawned, went
back to their practice.
In the next office Chickie met the
Woman who had got her the place
with Norp Whitman The moment
she saw her, Chickie realized she
had made a mistake returning here.
But it was too late. Mrs. Langton
gave her a nod of instant recogni-
tion: You didn't like Willman?"
'Yes-well enough"
II couldn't believe it when thy
phoned for new girl yesterday
You weren't discharged, were your"
Yes"
Mrs. Langton's large, kindly face
screwed in puzzlement. She waited
Suddenly Chickie said, II wish to
work in an office. but was sent out
to Winnetka to be secretary to Miss
Whitman I didn't like it
"Oh-I see-well, it's too bad you
didn't stick it out. Things are very
dull now"
Chickie said quietly: Twill you
phone me?"
She had suddenly become restless
"a fugitive longing to rush away
from this strange city where she
knew no one; where she walked
block after block and never saw a
single familiar face; seized her and
with it an overpowering sense of
her own futility.
What was she doing there? What
good would come of all this tor
nent and loneliness? No one cared
If she got up in the morning; no
one asked what hour she went to
bed at night. If she ate or went
hungry was of no matter at all.
She had an abrupt resentment of
her exile; of the boarding house; of
Barbara Whitman, lowering her head
and walking away without Il word
of Lee Whitman trying to kill him
self because of her. She was OBJ
sessed with a wish to escape.
When she returned to her room
there was a letter from Jonathan
1t began loosely. His letters al
ways did. Ho Business was great
and they'd be rich ones one Of these
days, just you wait!
But in the middle Of the second
page was this: "Jennie's garden is a
sight for you. She's out there tack
ing up roses from morning till night
You're the one that should wear
them, Chickie girl Now, look here
your old dad wouldn't mind a bit if
you'd surprise him one Of these
nights and come walking in, and
can tell you Jennie'd whack up the
( pies right off. What about it
Chickie girl? Your letters sound q
bit off to me these last few days
Why should you take this hard
way. my girl? It's too hard for you
[ think"
Chickie read that again and again
She bit her lips. Oh-she had lei
them know Let them see what q
s