Part 2 (1/2)

”How do you feel?” asked Dr. Hudson.

”Excellent,” boomed High-Pockets, straightening up.

The physicist went around to the other side, and though I had been watching these experiments for some time, I give you my word I very nearly choked on my own tongue when I saw High-Pockets Jones walk out of the second compartment.

The second High-Pockets produced a worn bill-fold and extracted a pink union permit.

”I protest this inhuman manipulation of a man's individuality,” said the chairman indignantly; ”this is outrageous.”

I felt better now. I'd been waiting for that. ”Let him go to work,” I said. ”We need an operator today, anyway; Bill Smith has the flu. I will guarantee to pay a man's wages to whomever you say, if this is found to be illegal.”

Under the law, there wasn't much they could do. And I had already taken the precaution of retaining the best legal counsel in the city.

I was elated when they went to work. I pumped Dr. Hudson's hand and a.s.sured him that we had indeed made spectacular history, and together we could make millions.

The first trouble came an hour later. One of the High-Pocketses--I couldn't tell which one--came into the office. ”The foreman sent me up to get some work,” he said in his booming voice.

I frowned. What was going on back there? I went back, High-Pockets Jones was working on his own machine. High-Pockets Jones was also working on Bill Smith's machine. I looked up quickly. High-Pockets Jones was also standing beside me.

He smiled. ”Catching, isn't it?”

I swallowed, but I knew they were playing tricks. High-Pockets Jones had walked into the cabinet a second time, and his double had worked the controls and produced a third. Well, this could get confusing, but I stayed calm. ”You're a floor-man, too, aren't you?”

”Yes, sir.”

”Okay. You go back to the Monotype room and get a bunch of slugs and leads and saw them up to fill the cases. They're getting pretty low.”

”Yes, sir.” He turned and went away.

When I got back to the office I thought I'd just turn on the lucite and see what they might be up to next. I had an uneasy feeling.

Sure enough, a High-Pockets Jones was stepping out of the second compartment of the cabinet. I gulped and quickly checked the others.

This was the fourth one.

I went back to raise h.e.l.l, but High-Pockets--well, one of them--was quite calm about it. ”Two men can do it faster than one,” he said.

I licked my lips and beat my brains, but I didn't know the answer. I went back to think it over. I had just decided to laugh it off when three High-Pockets Joneses came into the office.

”We need something to do,” they said, all in that great booming voice that seemed to come from the ceiling.

”See the foreman. Tell him to give you all the standing type that needs to be distributed.”

They left. I breathed a sigh of relief and sent out for a padlock to put on the cabinet.

An hour later, with a nice, s.h.i.+ny new padlock, I went back to the composing-room. But I very nearly fainted when I saw the activity going on back there. The composing-room was filled with High-Pockets Joneses.

Two still were at the linecasting machines, and a whole crew of others were running around the floor.

”Where's the foreman?” I barked.