‘Yeah. You said a man lives too much alone and he gets to seeing things.’
‘Just a figure of speech,’ said Crane.
He finished the cup of coffee quickly and went back to the office.
The place looked more familiar now. Ed Lane was there, cussing out a copy boy. Frank McKay was clipping the opposition morning sheet. A couple of other reporters had drifted in.
Crane took a quick look at the supply cabinet door. It was still shut.
The phone on McKay’s desk buzzed and the city editor picked it up. He listened for a moment, then took it down from his ear and held his hand over the mouthpiece.
‘Joe,’ he said, ‘take this. Some screwball claims he met a sewing machine coming down the street.’
Crane reached for his phone. ‘Give me the call on 245,’ he told the operator.
A voice was saying in his ear. ‘This is the Herald? This is the Herald? Hello, there…’
‘This is Crane,’ said Joe.