It stopped.

"Come on, Arthur," I ordered impatiently. "Sort them out, will you?"

Laboriously it typed:

!!!

Then, for a time, there was a clacking and thumping as he typed random
letters, peeping out of the suitcase to see what he had typed, until
the sheet I had put in was used up.

I replaced it and waited, as patiently as I could, smoking one of the
last of my cigarettes. After fifteen minutes or so, he had the hang of
it pretty well. He typed:

YOU DAMQXXX DAMN FOOL WHUXXX WHY DID YOU LEAQNXXX LEAVE ME ALONE Q Q

"Aw, Arthur," I said. "Use your head, will you? I couldn't carry that
old typewriter of yours all the way down through the Bronx. It was
getting pretty beat-up. Anyway, I've only got two hands--"

YOU LOUSE, it rattled, ARE YOU TRYONXXX TRYING TO INSULT ME BECAUSE I
DONT HAVE ANY Q Q

"Arthur!" I said, shocked. "You know better than that!"

The typewriter slammed its carriage back and forth ferociously a
couple of times. Then he said: ALL RIGHT SAM YOU KNOW YOUVE GOT ME BY
THE THROAT SO YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO WITH ME WHO CARES ABOUT
MY FEELINGS ANYHOW

"Please don't take that attitude," I coaxed.

WELL

"Please?"

He capitulated. ALL RIGHT SAY HEARD ANYTHING FROM ENGDAHL Q Q

"No."

ISNT THAT JUST LIKE HIM Q Q CANT DEPEND ON THAT MAN HE WAS THE
LOUSIEST ELECTRICIANS MATE ON THE SEA SPRITE AND HE ISNT MUCH BETTER
NOW SAY SAM REMEMBER WHEN WE HAD TO GET HIM OUT OF THE JUG IN NEWPORT
NEWS BECAUSE

I settled back and relaxed. I might as well. That was the trouble with
getting Arthur a new typewriter after a couple of days without one--he
had so much garrulity stored up in his little brain, and the only
person to spill it on was me.

* * * * *

Apparently I fell asleep. Well, I mean I must have, because I woke up.
I had been dreaming I was on guard post outside the Yard at
Portsmouth, and it was night, and I looked up and there was something
up there, all silvery and bad. It was a missile--and that was silly,
because you never see a missile. But this was a dream.

And the thing burst, like a Roman candle flaring out, all sorts of
comet-trails of light, and then the whole sky was full of bright and
colored snow. Little tiny flakes of light coming down, a mist of
light, radiation dropping like dew; and it was so pretty, and I took a
deep breath. And my lungs burned out like slow fire, and I coughed
myself to death with the explosions of the mi