Writing stories was hard work--unless Fred had a typewriter like "Reggie" that could write by itself! Nonsense? Fred agreed until he met-- THE PLAGIARIST FROM RIGEL IV By Evan Hunter [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy March 1954 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] I bought the typewriter in a pawn shop on Third Avenue. The pawn shop proprietor was a balding old man with a walrus mustache. "_How_ much?" I asked him. "Five dollars," he said casually. I glanced at him skeptically. The machine was a Remington Noiseless, with italics, probably worth a little over a hundred new, and it couldn't have been more than a year or two old. "_How_ much?" I asked. "Five dollars, is what I said. Five." He held up the fingers of his widespread hand. "Five. One-two-three...." "What's wrong with it?" I asked suspiciously. The old man shrugged. "Something has to be wrong with it? Listen, young man, don't look a gift horse in the mouth." "How come it's so cheap?" The old man sighed deeply. "You try to do a favor, you get all kinds of questions. Would you feel happier if I charged you fifty-five dollars?" "I wouldn't pay fifty-five dollars. I haven't got that much money." "Have you got five dollars? Can you pay that much?" "Yes. But...." "All right, take the machine. A case goes with it. Believe me, young man, this is a bargain." "Five dollars?" I asked again. "Five dollars. You want it? Yes or no? I got other things to do." "I'll take it." The old man smiled. "Good, you'll never regret it." He slid the machine off the counter and put it into its case. He snapped the case shut then, locked it, and handed me the two keys. "Keys even," he said, still smiling. "A good buy. If I had five dollars, I'd buy it myself." His smile widened in appreciation of his own humor, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was immensely relieved about something. I handed him the five dollar bill reluctantly, scooped up the case, and left the shop--glancing back over my shoulder to see him still grinning behind the counter.