"One would think you had been born at a typewriter, Jack," he said.
"Now I could not do that. The very noise of the thing would bother
me and then, having that bell ring every few seconds would get on
my nerves."
"Don't listen to it, Dick. You don't mind the chug of an auto or of
a motor-boat, do you? This is not nearly as bad."
"Well, no, I suppose not, but I don't see how you can think with that
thing making such a clatter. It would drive all the thoughts out of
my head in a minute. None too many there, to start with!"
Leaving the office at length they came upon Herring on the main
street, his late companion not being with him.
"You fouled us!" growled the bully. "I'd have passed you in another
second. You'll have to pay for Erne's clothes and his doctor's bills,
too. He's taken an awful cold. It'll cost you something, let me
tell you."
Just then Merritt himself, in a ready made suit of clothes came out
of a hotel on the corner, the boys seeing him before he saw them or
Herring got sight of him.
"He does not seem to have suffered any," said Percival in a whisper.
"No, he has bought another suit of clothes, and does not appear to
suffer from colds or influenza or any of those things," laughed Jack.
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