into thecabinet and turn him back into a hundred and sixty pounds of linotypemetal?"
"Precisely." Dr. Hudson smiled and showed his teeth. I could see he waslosing his patience.
"Well," said High-Pockets, "I can see about nine hundred legal questionsright off the bat. Who is going to draw the duplicate's pay? Is theduplicate entitled to a union card? Is he entitled to overtime? Is he aman or an automaton?"
"Sorry," said Dr. Hudson. "I am not a legal expert."
* * * * *
High-Pockets walked up to the cabinet and looked inside. I'd swear helooked as if he knew what all those wires were there for. His deep eyestook it all in, and then he announced in his booming voice from farabove us. "You're waiting for a volunteer," he said. "I'll be first."
I practically fell over. I think even Dr. Hudson was dumbfounded; we hadnot expected unconditional surrender. I was elated.
High-Pockets Jones was seated in the cabinet. Dr. Hudson threw theswitch. After five minutes' humming, a relay clicked. Dr. Hudson openedthe door. High-Pockets Jones, with a deep smile on his weatherbeatenface, unfolded his long legs and stepped out, holding his head down tokeep from hitting the top of the door-frame.
"How do you feel?" asked Dr. Hudson.
"Excellent," boomed High-Pockets, straightening up.
The physicist went around to the other side, and though I had beenwatching these experiments for some time, I give you my word I verynearly choked on my own tongue when I saw High-Pockets Jones walk out ofthe second compartment.
The second High-Pockets produced a worn bill-fold and extracted a pinkunion permit.
"I protest this inhuman manipulation of a man's individuality," said thechairman indignantly; "this is outrageous."
I felt better now. I'd been waiting for that. "Let him go to work," Isaid. "We need an operator today, anyway; Bill Smith has the flu. Iwill guarantee to pay a man's wages to whomever you say, if this isfound to be illegal."
Under the law, there wasn't much they could do. And I had already takenthe precaution of retaining the best legal counsel in the city.
I was elated when they went to work. I pumped Dr. Hudson's hand andassured him that we had indeed made spectacular history, and together wecould make millions.
The first trouble came an hour later. One of the High-Pocketses--Icouldn't tell which one--came into the office. "The foreman sent me upto get some work," he said in his booming voice.
I frowned. What was going on back there? I went back, High-Pockets Joneswas working on his own machine. High-Pockets Jones was also working onBill Smith's machine. I looked up quickly. High-Pockets Jones was alsostanding beside me.
He smiled. "Catching, isn't it?"
I swallowed, but I knew they were playing tricks. High-Pockets Jones hadwalked into the cabinet a second time, and his double had worked thecontrols and produced a third. Well, this could get confusing, but Istayed calm. "You're a floor-man, too, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay. You go back to the Monotype room and get a bunch of slugs andleads and saw them up to fill the cases. They're getting pretty low."
"Yes, sir." He turned and went away.
When I got back to the office I thought I'd just turn on the lucite andsee what they might be up to next. I had an uneasy feeling.
Sure enough, a High-Pockets Jones was stepping out of the secondcompartment of the cabinet. I gulped and quickly checked the others.This was the fourth one.
I went back to raise hell, but High-Pockets--well, one of them--wasquite calm about it. "Two men can do it faster than one," he said.
I licked my lips and beat my brains, but I didn't know the answer. Iwent back to think it over. I had just decided to laugh it off whenthree High-Pockets Joneses came into the office.
"We need something to do," they said, all in that great booming voicethat seemed to come from the ceiling.
"See the foreman. Tell him to give you all the standing type that needsto be distributed."
They left. I breathed a sigh of relief and sent out for a padlock to puton the cabinet.
* * * * *
An hour later, with a nice, shiny new padlock, I went back to thecomposing-room. But I very nearly fainted when I saw the activity goingon back there. The composing-room was filled with High-Pockets Joneses.
Two still were at the linecasting machines, and a whole crew of otherswere running around the floor.
"Where's the foreman?" I barked.
High-Pockets Jones--one of them--came to attention. "He went home. Hewas quite discouraged; he told us to throw in all the standing type wecould find."
It didn't look good. I had the feeling that High-Pockets was laughing atme--this High-Pockets, anyway.
That reminded me. I gathered up all the High-Pocketses in thecomposing-room and lined them up. There were nine--exactly nine--everyone of them over seven feet tall and thin as a sidestick, every one ofthem with a gentle, booming voice.
I wanted to tell the original High-Pockets to gather them all up and putthem back together, but I didn't know how to find the original.
Well, they couldn't get me down. I fooled them. I told them all to takethe rest of the day off--at full pay.
All nine of them washed up together and left together. It was thedamnedest thing I ever saw offstage. Nine identical High-Pocketses--allso tall they had to weave around the neon lights instead of duckingunder them. It was enough to give a man nightmares, to watch that lineof High-Pockets Joneses advancing across an open composing-room.
This kind of thing went on the next day, and the next. Every day therewere nine High-Pockets Joneses in the composing-room. Everybody wasfalling over everybody else, when they weren't standing around laughingup their sleeves.
There was nothing I could do. I had been forced to turn over all of myhouse to eight of the High-Pocketses, because they had to have a placeto stay, and after all, I was responsible for them.
Our production went up a little, but the Legal Printing Company job washardly touched. There was too much of that sort of festive spirit in theair; everybody was watching the High-Pocketses and waiting to see whatwould happen next--and hoping for something extravagant. In other words,they refused to take it seriously; to them, it was a circus.
I didn't have the nerve to ask anybody else to split. After all,High-Pockets was in nine places at once; that should have been enough.It was apparent by that time that the extender would never be anythingin a printing office but a psychological monstrosity.
I had to admit I was stymied, and I got so I didn't give a whoop. I wassunk anyway. That is the way it went that week. On Saturday night Dr.Hudson and I got beautifully soused.
* * * * *
On Monday morning I didn't care. The Legal Printing Company called upand said they could give us a few more days; if they could have it byFriday, they could still make the filing date. I said we'd do everythingpossible, and then I hung up and laughed bitterly and aloud. We couldn'tget it out if we had another month. The only thing was, as soon as ourplant closed up, they could ask the court for an extension because ofunforeseen circumstances, and probably get it. So I laughed aloud.
I saw Dr. Hudson cleaning out his desk, and I nodded. "Sorry, Doc, wegot all fouled up. Maybe some other time--"
He nodded. "Progress always encounters opposition," he said. "It justhappens that we are the sacrifices in this deal."
"Yeah." I went out and had a drink.
I was pretty dazed that week. It didn't make any difference. I hadalready tried everything possible, and they had me hog-tied. And thosenine High-Pocketses had made me a laughing-stock.
On Friday morning, I looked at the calendar and it suddenly occurred tome that this was the thirty-first and the receivers would be around thisafternoon to decide whether or not to close the place.
There wasn't any doubt as to what they would do. I began to clean out myown desk. I felt terrible.
Then o
ne of the High-Pocketses came in with a piece of copy in his hand.He looked at me queerly and then said softly, "You leaving?"
"Yes," I said bitterly, "I'm going. You got me licked; I'm through."
"I was just trying to point out to you the absurdity of some of your newdevices," he said.
"Okay," I said, "you win. Guys like you make a business of going aroundthe country breaking print-shops and printing-office managers."
High-Pockets' booming voice came from the ceiling. "You are mistaken. Idid not try to break you."
"Well, you broke me, anyway." I blurted out the whole thing to him, howthe receivers were about to close us up, how the Legal Printing Companyjob was weeks behind and was supposed to be delivered today.