"Well, we'll answer them now," and Bannon commenced dictating his reply to
the one on top of the stack.

"Hold on," said the clerk, "I ain't a stenographer."

"So?" said Bannon. He scribbled a brief memorandum on each sheet. "There's
enough to go by," he said. "Answer 'em according to instructions."

"I won't have time to do it till tomorrow some time."

"I'd do it tonight, if I were you," said Bannon, significantly. Then he
began writing letters himself.

Peterson and Vogel came into the office a few minutes later.

"Writing a letter to your girl?" said Peterson, jocularly.

"We ought to have a stenographer out here, Pete."

"Stenographer! I didn't know you was such a dude. You'll be wanting a
solid silver electric bell connecting with the sody fountain next."

"That's straight," said Bannon. "We ought to have a stenographer for a
fact."

He said nothing until he had finished and sealed the two letters he was
writing. They were as follows:--

DEAR MR. BROWN: It's a mess and no mistake. I'm glad Mr. MacBride didn't
come to see it. He'd have fits. The whole job is tied up in a hard knot.