He cleaned them out and then started carefully hitting one letter at a time. But the very first one came to the starwheel, and rang the bell again. "Star-wheel spring is loose," he said. "She won't bring the mats down."
Arturius looked at him with a scowl that bore the heavy responsibility of the entire world, and then without a word sat down to fix it. He stood by while High-Pockets tried again. The line finally was filled and High-Pockets sent it in and started on the second line.
"Wait a minute," said Arturius. "You didn't get a slug." He opened the vise. "Short-line stop is out of adjustment," he growled. "What's the matter with this machine, anyway?"
High-Pockets looked worried. "Maybe she don't like want ads," he said. "Maybe I better set this take somewhere else."
Arturius grunted. High-Pockets went to No. 8. He set the want ads with one eye on No. 7. He was quite sober now.
The copy-cutter wasn't looking when High-Pockets got back to the desk, and High-Pockets did something he'd never done before in his life. He "worked the hook"—instead of taking want ads, he very quietly took a piece of minion, and then looked around guiltily to see if anybody noticed.
He wound his way back to No. 7 and got all set. Arturius was gone. High-Pockets by now realized that he was up against worthy opposition. If he had reached No. 7's soul, he had stirred it the wrong way. From now on he would be extremely careful.
Things went all right until after the cast. The line went up to transfer—and there it stuck. High-Pockets sighed and rang the bell. Arturius came, but the scowl on his face was diluted with self-satisfaction.
He started to lock the spaceband lever, but when he touched the latch, the spaceband lever went over with a crash and the line of mats spilled out in the intermediate channel.