"Don't feel that way," said the girl. "You'll make good, I know, and
then it won't make any difference about the letters."

"And now," said Jimmy, "tell me where you got them. You promised me that
you would tell me afterward."

"Oh," said the girl, "that was easy. A girl who rooms at the same place
I do works in a big printing and engraving plant and I got her to get me
some samples of letterheads early this morning. In fact, I went
down-town with her when she went to work and then I went over to the
Underwood offices and wrote the recommendations out on a machine--I
used to be a stenographer."

"And you forged these names?" asked Jimmy, horrified.

"I didn't forge anybody's name," replied the girl. "I made them up."

"You mean there are no such men?"

"As far as I know there are not," she replied, laughing.

Slowly Jimmy drew the letters from his inside pocket and read them one
by one, spreading them out upon the table before him. Presently he
looked up at the girl.

"Why don't you get a position again as a stenographer?" he asked.

"I have been thinking of it," she said; "do you want me to?"