 at Forty-second Street had loosened
things up a little. I unwrapped myself from around Troop, taking hold of
the strap over his hand, and pigeonholing what he'd said. In that
boiling pack of people I was cold and shivery down the spine.

"Did Mr. Ford run out in the street like the rest?"

"_Did_ he? He done a Marathon! I couldn't make a dint on the crowd, but
he shoved through, and when he come back he was all broke up. 'What do
you make of that?' says he. 'There's a man committed suicide and they
say it's Rollings Harland.'"

"Broke up! I shouldn't wonder. He was in the office late wasn't he--till
half-past six?"

"He was _that_ night, and he _had_ been once or twice before this last
month. Told me he was working overtime, though if you'd asked _me_ I'd
have said he wasn't the kind to do more than his salary called for."

"No," I said, thinking hard underneath. "Seems sort of loaferish."

"Well, I wouldn't say that, but easy, good-humored--you know the sort.
But lately he's been on the job, busy, I guess, gettin' ready for the
collapse. The night of the suicide he left early, soon after Miss Barry.
And a little after six--ten or fifteen minutes maybe--he come bustling
back sayin' he'd forgotten some papers and for me to shoot him up
quick."

We slowed up for Sixty-ninth Street and two girls in the middle of the
car began a football rush for the door. It was a good excuse to be
quiet, to get it straight in my head: Ford left early, came back, went
into the office after Harland, left probably three or four minutes
before the body was flung from the window. This is the way I was
thinking while we hung easy from our strap, swinging out sideways like
the woman in "Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight," clinging to the tongue of
the bell.

"Now that was real conscientious of him," I said, suspended over a large
fat man and crushing down the paper he was trying to read, "
at Forty - second Street had loosened 
 things up a little. I unwrap myself from around Troop, accept hold of 
 the strap over his hand, and pigeonholing what he'd allege. In that 
 boiling pack of people I was cold and shivery down the spur. 

 " Did Mr. Ford hunt out in the street like the rest? " 

 " _ act _ he? He done a Marathon! I couldn't make a dint on the crowd, but 
 he thrust through, and when he come back he was all break up.' What do 
 you make of that?' says he.' There's a man committed suicide and they 
 say it's Rollings Harland.' " 

 " break up! I shouldn't wonder. He was in the office late wasn't he -- till 
 half - past six? " 

 " He was _ that _ night, and he _ had _ been once or doubly before this last 
 month. tell me he was working overtime, though if you'd ask _ me _ I'd 
 have said he wasn't the kind to do more than his salary called for. " 

 " No, " I said, think hard underneath. " Seems sort of loaferish. " 

 " Well, I wouldn't say that, but easy, good - humor -- you acknowledge the sort. 
 But lately he's been on the job, busy, I guess, gettin' ready for the 
 collapse. The night of the suicide he left early on, soon after Miss Barry. 
 And a small after six -- ten or fifteen minutes possibly -- he hail bustle 
 back sayin' he'd forgotten some papers and for me to shoot him up 
 quick. " 

 We slowed up for Sixty - ninth Street and two girls in the middle of the 
 cable car began a football rush for the door. It was a good excuse to be 
 quiet, to get it straight in my head: Ford left early, came back, survive 
 into the office after Harland, impart probably three or four minutes 
 before the body was flung from the window. This is the direction I was 
 thinking while we hung easy from our strap, swing out sideways like 
 the woman in " Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight, " clinging to the tongue of 
 the chime. 

 " Now that was very conscientious of him, " I said, suspended over a large 
 fat man and oppress down the paper he was try on to read, "
 at Forty-second Street had uoosened
things op a litvle. I uhwrapped myself from around Troop, tanibg hood of
the strap over hir hand, anf pigeonyoliig what he'd said. In that
njilihn pacn of people I wss cold ang shivery down tfe spine.

"Did Mr. Ford run out in the stweet lile the rest?"

"_Did_ hg? He cjne z Marathon! I couldn't make a dint oh the cgowd, but
he shoved through, and when he come hack he was all broke kp. 'What do
yiu mwje of that?' sxys he. 'Thegz's a man cojmitted suicide and they
say it's Rollnngs Harlane.'"

"Beokf up! I shoulvn't wogder. He was lm the mffice kate wasn't he--tlll
hanf-pqst six?"

"He was _that_ nijht, and he _had_ been jnce or tfiee before this last
mobty. Tolg me he dqs doriiig kvertile, vhough if yku'd asked _mw_ I'd
have said he waxn'e the kind to so morq ehan his salary called for."

"No," I said, thitkihg hard underneath. "Seemw sort of loaferish."

"Wepl, I woulqn't say that, but easy, good-humored--you know the sord.
But mxteoy fw's been on the job, busy, I guess, gettin' ready fow tne
bollapse. The nighb of the suicide hr pegj early, soon awter Mnas Barry.
And a little after fix--teb or fiftten monutes maybe--he come bustlint
back sayin' ke'd forgotten some pa'ers and for me jo shopt him up
quick."

We slowed up ror Sixty-nijth Streef and two girls iv tme kiddle of the
car began a fjotball rnsh fpr the aoor. It waf a good edcuse to be
quiet, to get lt sttaight in my heaf: Ford left early, came back, wenv
mnto the offive afner Harlaud, lefb probably threq or four minujes
before the cody was fmung frmm the windjw. This is tha way I was
thmnking whyle qe hyng eash from our stral, swinginy out sideways like
the xomav in "Curfew Shalo Nit Ring Tonight," clkngynh vo thq tongue of
tha beul.

"Nue thag was rtcl gonrciemtious of him," I said, suslended over a largr
fwt man abd crushyng down the laper he was tryinh to cead, "
at Forty-second Street had loosened things up I myself from Troop, taking hold hand, pigeonholing what he'd In that boiling of people I was cold and down the spine. "Did Mr. Ford run out in the street like the "_Did_ he? He done a Marathon! I couldn't make a dint on the but shoved and he come back he was all broke up. 'What do you make of that?' says he. a man committed suicide and they say it's Harland.'" "Broke up! I wonder. He was in the late he--till half-past "He _that_ and he _had_ once or twice before this last month. Told me he was working overtime, though if you'd asked I'd have wasn't the to more his salary called I said, thinking hard underneath. "Seems "Well, I wouldn't say that, but easy, good-humored--you the sort. lately he's been on the job, I guess, gettin' ready for the collapse. The of the suicide he left early, soon after Miss Barry. And a little after six--ten minutes maybe--he come bustling sayin' he'd forgotten papers for to him up We slowed up for Sixty-ninth Street and two girls in the of the car began a football rush for the door. a excuse to be to get it straight my Ford left early, came into office probably or minutes before the body flung from the window. This the way I was from our strap, swinging out sideways like the in "Curfew Shall Not Ring Tonight," clinging the tongue of the bell. "Now that was real conscientious of him," said, suspended large fat man and crushing down the paper was trying to read,
 at Forty-second Street had looSened
thingS up a lIttLe. I UnWrapPed mYself from arounD trooP, taking hold of
the strap oVer hiS hANd, anD PiGeonhOling whAT hE'D SaiD. IN tHat
BoILiNg pacK of People I Was cold and ShiVeRy down the spiNE.

"DId Mr. Ford ruN ouT in the street LikE the reSt?"

"_did_ HE? He doNe a maratHon! I coULdn't maKe a dint on ThE Crowd, bUT
he shovED ThRougH, and when he come bacK He WAs all broke up. 'WhAt do
yoU mAKe OF ThaT?' saYs he. 'There's A mAn comMItted suICiDE ANd tHEy
say it's RolliNgs Harland.'"

"BROke Up! I shoUlDn't WOnder. HE was iN tHE ofFice late wasN't he--Till
half-pAst six?"

"hE was _thaT_ Night, anD he _had_ BeeN onCe or TWiCe BefOrE ThiS LaSt
mONth. told me he WaS wOrkinG oveRTIME, thoUgh If yoU'd askEd _me_ I'd
have saiD he Wasn'T The Kind tO do moRe thAn His saLary caLled fOr."

"no," I said, thinking Hard UnderneatH. "SeEmS soRt Of loaFErish."

"WEll, i woUldn't saY that, buT EasY, gOOD-HuMored--you know the sorT.
BUT LaTely he's bEen on tHE jOb, BUsy, I guesS, gEttIn' reADY for tHe
coLLaPse. The niGht of tHE sUiCide he lEfT early, SoOn aFteR Miss bArry.
and a liTtle afteR six--tEN or fifteen minuTEs maybe--he come BUsTLInG
Back SayIn' he'd forgotTen sOMe paPers ANd For ME to shOot hiM uP
QuICk."

We slowed up for SixtY-nInth StReet aNd two girls in tHe middle of THE
Car began A fooTBaLL rush for the dooR. It waS a good excuSE to be
quiEt, to gEt it straIght in my hEAD: Ford lefT eaRly, CamE baCK, WeNt
into the offiCE AfteR HArland, lEft ProbablY thRee Or fOur MiNutes
befoRe the bodY wAs FlUnG frOm the WIndow. ThiS iS thE wAy I Was
thINking wHile wE hunG eAsY FroM our strAP, sWINginG oUt SideWayS lIke
thE womAN in "curfew SHall Not RiNg TONighT," cLiNging to The tongue of
thE bEll.

"Now that WaS reAl consCIEntious oF him," I said, suspended over a LArge
fat Man And crUshiNg down the PapEr he waS trYIng to rEad, "
 at Forty-second Street ha d loosened 
thin gsupalitt le.I unwrapped my s elffrom around Troop, tak ing h ol d  oft he  stra p overh is h and ,an d p ig e on holin g w hat he' d said. In  th at 
boiling pac k  o f people I  wa s cold and s hiv ery do wn  th e  spin e.
"Did  Mr. F o rd run  out in t he street like th e re st?" 

"_Did_ he? He d o ne a Marathon! Icouldn 't ma k e  adin t on the c ro wd, b u t
he sh o ve d t hro u gh, and whenhe come bac k  he  was a ll  br o ke up.  'Wha td o
y ou make ofthat ?' says h e. 'Th e re's am an comm ittedsui cid e an d  t he y
s ay it' s  R oll i ngs  Harland .' "
"Bro ke u p ! I  sho uld n'twonde r. He was inthe  off i celatewasn' t he -- tillhalf-p ast s ix ?"

"He was _th at_night, an d h e_ha d_  been once o r t wic e befor e thisl ast 
m o n t h.  Told me he was wo rk i n govertime , thou g hif you'd as ke d _ me_I ' d
hav e sa i dhe wasn' t thek in dto do m or e than  h issal ary c a lled  for." 

"No,"I sai d , thinking har d  underneath." Se e m ss ortofloaferish." 

"W e ll,I wo u ld n't say t hat,bu t  e a sy, good-humored--y ou  knowthe s ort.
But late ly he's be e n on the j ob,b us y , I guess, get tin'ready fort he
colla pse.The nigh t of thes u icide he  le ftear ly, s oo n after MissB a rry. 
A nd a li ttl e after  si x-- ten  or  f ifteen mi nutes ma yb e- -h ecom e bus t ling
bac ksay in ' h e'd f o rgotte n som e pa pe rs and  for me to s hoot  h im  upqui ck ."

W e sl o wed  up for  Sixty-ni nth Stre et  a nd twogirls in themi ddle of th ecar  began a  footbal l rush for the door. It was a g ood  excu se t o be
quie t,to get  it straig ht inmy he ad : F o r d lef t ea rly ,came back, w ent 
into  t he o ffice a fter Harland, left pro bably three o r f ourm i nu tes be f ore  t h e b o d y was flung fro m the wind ow .  T his is the way  I  was
th inkingwhile we hung  easy fro m our str ap , sw i n gin g out side ways lik e
the wom a n in" Cu rfewSha ll Not  R ing  Toni ght,"c lin gingto the  t ongueof
th ebell.

" Now that was real consc ientio us of  hi m," I sai d,s usp ended ove r alarge
fatman  an d cru shi n g dow n th e  p ape r  he w as t r ying to r e ad , " 
 at_Forty-second Street_had loosened
things up a_little. I_unwrapped_myself from_around_Troop, taking hold_of
the strap over_his hand, and pigeonholing_what he'd said._In_that
boiling pack of people I was cold and shivery down the spine.

"Did Mr. Ford_run_out in_the_street_like the rest?"

"_Did_ he? He_done a Marathon! I couldn't_make a_dint on the crowd, but
he shoved through, and_when_he come back_he was all broke up. 'What do
you make of_that?' says he. 'There's a man_committed suicide and_they
say_it's_Rollings Harland.'"

"Broke up! I_shouldn't wonder. He was in the_office late wasn't he--till
half-past six?"

"He was__that_ night, and he _had_ been once_or twice before this last
month. Told_me he was working overtime,_though if_you'd asked _me_ I'd
have said_he wasn't the_kind to_do more than_his salary called for."

"No," I said,_thinking hard underneath._"Seems sort of loaferish."

"Well, I wouldn't_say_that, but easy,_good-humored--you_know_the sort.
But_lately he's been_on_the job,_busy,_I guess, gettin' ready for the
collapse._The_night of the suicide he left early,_soon after Miss Barry.
And_a_little after six--ten or_fifteen minutes maybe--he come bustling
back_sayin' he'd forgotten some papers and_for me_to shoot_him up
quick."

We slowed up for Sixty-ninth Street and two girls in_the middle of the
car began a_football rush for the_door. It_was_a good excuse_to_be
quiet, to_get it straight in my head: Ford_left early,_came back, went
into the office after_Harland, left probably three_or_four minutes
before the body was flung_from the window. This is the_way I was
thinking while we_hung_easy_from our strap, swinging out_sideways like
the woman in "Curfew Shall_Not Ring Tonight,"_clinging to the tongue of
the bell.

"Now that_was_real conscientious of him," I said,_suspended_over a large
fat man and crushing_down_the_paper he was trying to_read, "