“Nothing at all,” said High-Pockets Jones. “Just got a call this morning from a print-shop where they’re trying to make the men wear roller-skates so they can move faster. Guess they need me down there. So long, boss.”
“So long,” I said. I was sorry to see him go. I locked up the shop—but first I cut off all the power and got a pig and smashed up Dr. Hudson’s coils and transformers. I wanted to come down in the morning without seeing double.