"I'm glad to know you, Conniston. Glad you're to be with us. Oh yes, I
knew a couple of days ago that you were coming over. Mr. Crawford
dropped in on us himself and told us about you. Have a chair."
They had shaken hands across the table. Now, as Conniston moved across
the room to the chair at which Garton waved, the latter swung about on
his high stool toward the boy at the typewriter.
"Hey there, Billy!" he called. "Come and meet Mr. Conniston. He's
going to be one of us. Mr. Conniston, meet Mr. Jordan--Billy
Jordan--the one man living who can take down dictation as fast as you
can sling it at him, type it as you shoot it in, and play a tune on
his typewriter at the same time!"
Stepping about the table to meet the boy who had got to his feet,
Conniston received a shock which for a second made him forget to take
young Jordan's proffered hand. For the first time now he saw Garton's
body, which had been hidden by the table; saw that Garton had had both
legs taken off six inches above the knees. He remembered himself, and
tried to hide his surprise under some light remark to Billy Jordan.
But Garton had seen it, and laughed lightly, although with a slight
flush creeping up into his pale cheeks.
"Hadn't heard about my having slept with Procrustes? Well, you'll get
used to having half a man around after a while. The rest do.
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