“Cease from annoying me, I often copy 300 and 400 words behind. Now, just wait till I locate my stylus and I’ll show you what no other man can do,” and “Bogy” began a search for the missing article.
Williamson had now sent two full sheets and the night chief was very nervous fearing an unlooked for denouement, but “Bogy” was impassive.
The missing stylus was at last found and “he” squared himself for his grand feat, much to the relief of the very much excited night chief. Fully 400 words had now been sent but “Bogy” looked wise.
“I say, my boy,” addressing the night chief, “I’m going out for a few minutes, but let him send just the same. I’ll keep it all in my head till I get back, and when I return you will see something in the way of telegraphing that you never dreamed of before.”
Saying this, “Bogy” went out into the dark and—never returned.
[Where Did You Get That Oil?]
The firm of Kelly, Dunne & Co. were doing business a quarter of a century ago, and the junior member of that concern, David M. Dunne, was very popular. He made friends and treated them right and they were staunch and loyal.
The Portland Ice Company bought a great deal of oil from Mr. Dunne, and notwithstanding all kinds of inducements, no one else could sell oil to the ice company.
The foreman of the ice plant swore by the Kelly, Dunne & Co. product and would treat with much brusquesness any drummer who had the hardihood to come to him to dispose of oil. He had full charge of the works and was held strictly accountable for the welfare of the plant.