“But what is the matter?” gasped Mary-Lou.
“I don’t know!” wailed Loseis. “I must be crazy! He speaks fair and honest; he is always polite and kind . . . but . . . but I can’t stand the man!”
Before the morning was out Gault was seen returning. Loseis, who had persuaded herself that she was a fool, schooled herself to receive him politely. He was accompanied this time by one of his Crees, who was carrying a neat leather-covered box by its handle. Gault never performed such menial tasks for himself. There was enough of the child in Loseis to be rendered intensely curious by the sight of that box.
The trader dismissed his servant at the door, and brought the box in himself. Upon being laid on the table and opened, a most fascinating and complicated little machine was revealed, all shining with nickel-plate and black lacquer. Loseis had not the remotest idea of what it was for.
“This is the typewriter; the writing-machine,” explained the trader. “I have another one at the Post which I have sent for. In the meantime I want to present this to you. I thought it might amuse you to practice on it; and it will certainly save you time. Now that you are a business woman, you will have many letters to write.”
Loseis’ heart was touched by this seeming act of kindness. She felt remorseful. “That is very good of you,” she said, blushing. “It is true, I am a miserable writer. But I shall never be able to learn this.”
“On the contrary,” said Gault. “It is very simple. Sit down at the table and I will show you now.”
Loseis obeyed; and Gault drew up another chair close beside her. He explained to her how to put the paper in; how to shift the carriage back and forth; how to start a new line. For the rest all you had to do was to strike the proper letters. In ten minutes Loseis had mastered the idea of the thing. She was fascinated with this new toy (she had possessed so few toys in her life) but was made horribly uncomfortable by the enforced proximity of Gault’s head to her own. He was chewing some sort of medicated candy that gave his breath a strong, pungent odor. Loseis hated strong smells of every kind.
“Now let me try it all by myself,” she said.