"Thoroughly tested," said Dr. Hudson. I refrained from smiling. The printers were flabbergasted; they didn't know what to do or think. The chairman was trying to get his poor fogged brain together with arguments. The only person besides myself and Dr. Hudson who seemed to be at ease was the barnstormer, High-Pocket Jones. "In-other words," High-Pockets said, "if we are short an operator, I can walk in that cabinet and you can in a few minutes make another High-Pockets Jones, who will set type until you put him back into the cabinet and turn him back into a hundred and sixty pounds of linotype metal?" "Precisely." Dr. Hudson smiled and showed his teeth. I could see he was losing his patience. "Well," said High-Pockets, "I can see about nine hundred legal questions right off the bat. Who is going to draw the duplicate's pay? Is the duplicate entitled to a union card? Is he entitled to overtime? Is he a man or an automaton?" "Sorry," said Dr. Hudson. "I am not a legal expert." * * * * * High-Pockets walked up to the cabinet and looked inside. I'd swear he looked as if he knew what all those wires were there for. His deep eyes took it all in, and then he announced in his booming voice from far above us. "You're waiting for a volunteer," he said. "I'll be first." I practically fell over. I think even Dr. Hudson was dumbfounded; we had not expected unconditional surrender. I was elated. High-Pockets Jones was seated in the cabinet. Dr. Hudson threw the switch. After five minutes' humming, a relay clicked. Dr. Hudson opened the door. High-Pockets Jones, with a deep smile on his weatherbeaten face, unfolded his long legs and stepped out, holding his head down to keep from hitting the top of the door-frame. "How do you feel?" asked Dr. Hudson. "Excellent," boomed High-Pockets, straightening up. The physicist went around to the other side, and though I had been watching these experiments for some time, I give you my word I very nearly choked on my own tongue when I saw High-Pockets Jones walk out of the second compartment. The second High-Pockets produced a worn bill-fold and extracted a pink union permit. "I protest this inhuman manipulation of a man's individuality," said the chairman indignantly; "this is outrageous." I felt better now. I'd been waiting for that. "Let him go to work," I said. "We need an operator today, anyway; Bill Smith has the flu. I will guarantee to pay a man's wages to whomever you say, if this is found to be illegal." Under the law, there wasn't much they could do. And I had already taken the precaution of retaining the best legal counsel in the city. I was elated when they went to work. I pumped Dr. Hudson's hand and assured him that we had indeed made spectacular history, and together we could make millions.