He was two months behind with his type-writer, and the agency was clamoring for payment or for the return of the machine.

In desperation, all but ready to surrender, to make a truce with fate until he could get a fresh start, he took the civil service examinations for the Railway Mail.

To his surprise, he passed first.

The job was assured, though when the call would come to enter upon his duties nobody knew.
It was at this time, at the lowest ebb, that the smooth-running editorial machine broke down.

A cog must have slipped or an oil-cup run dry, for the postman brought him one morning a short, thin envelope.