Read The 42nd Parallel for Free Online Page B

hairbreadth ’scapes i’ th’ imminent deadly breach
     
    why that’s the Schuylkill      the horse’s hoofs rattle sharp on smooth wet asphalt after cobbles      through the gray streaks of rain the river shimmers ruddy with winter mud      When I was your age Jack I dove off this bridge through the rail of the bridge we can look way down into the cold rainyshimmery water      Did you have any clothes on?      Just my shirt

Mac
    Fainy stood near the door in the crowded elevated train; against the back of the fat man who held on to the strap in front of him, he kept rereading a letter on crisp watermarked stationery:
     
The Truthseeker Literary Distributing Co., Inc.
General Offices 1104 S. Hamlin Avenue
Chicago, Ill. April 14, 1904
Fenian O’H. McCreary
      456 N. Wood Street
         Chicago, Ill.
D EAR S IR :
We take the pleasure to acknowledge yours of the 10th inst.
In reference to the matter in hand we feel that much could be gained by a personal interview. If you will be so good as to step around to the above address on Monday April 16th at nine o’clock, we feel that the matter of your adaptability for the position for which you have applied can be thoroughly thrashed out.
Yours in search for Truth,
E MMANUEL R. B INGHAM , D.D.
     
    Fainy was scared. The train got to his station too soon. He had fifteen minutes to walk two blocks in. He loafed along the street, looking in store windows. There was a golden pheasant, stuffed, in a taxidermist’s; above it hung a big flat greenish fish with a sawtoothed bill from which dangled a label:
     
    SAWFISH (pristis perrotetti)
    Habitat Gulf and Florida waters. Frequents shallow bays and inlets.
     
    Maybe he wouldn’t go at all. In the back of the window was a lynx and on the other side a bobtailed cat, each on its limb of a tree. Suddenly he caught his breath. He’d be late. He went tearing off down the block.
    He was breathless and his heart was pounding to beat the cars when he reached the top of the fourth flight of stairs. He studied the groundglass doors on the landing;
     
    THE UNIVERSAL CONTACT COMPANY

F. W. Perkins
Assurance
     
    THE WINDY CITY MAGIC AND NOVELTY COMPANY

Dr. Noble
Hospital and Sickroom Supplies
     
    The last one was a grimy door in the back beside the toilet. The goldleaf had come off the letters, but he was able to spell out from the outlines:
     
    THE GENERAL OUTFITTING AND
MERCHANTIZING CORPORATION
     
    Then he saw a card on the wall beside the door with a hand holding a torch drawn out on it and under it the words “Truthseeker Inc.” He tapped gingerly on the glass. No answer. He tapped again.
    “Come in . . . Don’t knock,” called out a deep voice. Fainy found himself stuttering as he opened the door and stepped into a dark, narrow room completely filled up by two huge rolltop desks:
    “Please, I called to see Mr. Bingham, sir.”
    At the further desk, in front of the single window sat a big man with a big drooping jaw that gave him a little of the expression of a setter dog. His black hair was long and curled a little over each ear, on the back of his head was a broad black felt hat. He leaned back in his chair and looked Fainy up and down.
    “How do you do, young man? What kind of books are you inclined to purchase this morning? What can I do for you this morning?” he boomed.
    “Are you Mr. Bingham, sir, please?”
    “This is Doc Bingham right here before you.”
    “Please, sir, I . . . I came about that job.”
    Doc Bingham’s expression changed. He twisted his mouth as if he’d just tasted something sour. He spun round in his swivelchair and spat into a brass spittoon in the corner of the room. Then he turned to Fainy again and leveled a fat finger at him, “Young man, how do you spell experience?”
    “E . . . x . . . p . . . er . . . er . . . er . . . i . . . a . . . n . . .”
    “That’ll do . . . No education . . . I thought as much . . . No