Jimmy might have been in Chicago for any response he made;
though Armorer shouted with Shuey; and at every pause the whir
of the machinery mocked the shouters. Indescribable moans
and gurgles, with a continuous malignant hiss, floated up to them
from the rebel steam below, as from a volcano considering eruption.
"They'll be bound to need the elevator some time, if they don't
need US, and that's one comfort!" said Shuey, philosophically.

"Don't you think if we pulled on her we could get her up
to the next floor, by degrees? Now then!"

Armorer gave a dash and Shuey let out his muscles in a giant tug.
The elevator responded by an astonishing leap that carried them past
three or four floors!

"Stop her! stop her!" bawled Shuey; but in spite of Armorer's
pulling himself purple in the face, the elevator did not stop
until it bumped with a crash against the joists of the roof.

"Well, do you suppose we're stuck HERE?" growled Armorer.

"Well, sir, I'll try. Say, don't be exerting yourself violent.
It strikes me she's for all the world like the wimmen,--
in exthremes, sir, in exthremes! And it wouldn't be noways
so pleasant to go riproaring that gait down cellar!
Slow and easy, sir, let me manage her. Hi! she's working."

In fact, by slow degrees and much puffing, Shuey got
the erratic box to the next floor, where, disregarding
Shuey's protestations that he could "make her mind,"