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It was in the morning of one day, two weeks after Gillen and Jarvis had each found their places to live that Tom pulled Jarvis out of the backroom so that they could talk without being bothered.
“What is it?” Jarvis asked once they were in the front of the shop. “I’m not in trouble am I?”
“No, of course not.”
“What is it?” Jarvis asked once more.
“I was thinking Jarvis, that now that there are three of you working here, and only one of me purchasing and transporting the ink; they may be too much help here, and not enough help where I am at.”
“I see,” Jarvis said. “So what is it that I should do to help?”
“I would like you to come with me from now on, and help with the transportations. With it will also come a raise in what I am currently paying you. It’s only one penny, but that penny will add up, you know?” He said as he pointed his finger at him.
Jarvis smiled, delighted by the proposition that had so unexpectedly arisen to him. It had been though, four months of unabated commitment, as was all that was asked of them to do; and the requirement had been carried out wholeheartedly.
“Of course I will!” Jarvis ejaculated.
Tom chuckled and patted him on the back.
“Glad to hear it.”
“When should I begin?”
“Today, right now.”
Jarvis rubbed his chin and nodded.
“Then I shall go and tell Gillen of this situation as quick as I can do so, and I will be back out so that we can be on our way, if that of course is alright with you?”
“Yes, it is.”
Jarvis scurried back through the door and informed Gillen of all that had occurred, and Gillen smiled and congratulated him. As did Cornelius. Jarvis then left the building in matched stride to Tom, with a grin of pride laid plainly across his excited face.
“So, you three finally have the letter press down?”
“The letter press?” Jarvis repeated the peculiar title. “What’s that?”
“The machine you three have been operating for the past four months,” Tom said with a laugh.
“That’s what it’s called?”
Tom laughed even harder.
“Of course that’s what it’s called!”
The two laughed together as they walked down the packed streets, shoulders brushing with the crowd it was so tight and bursting at the seams, the town was. Twenty thousand people were a lot to fit in one town; a great lot.
“Well, this is it,” Tom ushered to the small building, that was in much the same condition as his own was, rather unwelcoming.
“What goes on in here?”
“I don’t pay much attention while I’m inside; I usually just take up the bottles of ink that I need, pay them and then leave. Of course you can look around if you would like. All I need you to do is help carry.”
The two walked in where there were a dozen men, hard at work over whatnot. The bottling of inks, the making of ink in vats and so on and so forth. Jarvis was immediately distracted from Tom’s side and he soon had wondered off to observe these processes. Meanwhile, Tom stood at the front counter where he was taking out the proper amount of money for his weekly order.
“Where did Jarvis go?” He asked himself when he finally looked up to see he was talking to no one. “Jarvis! Come on, I need you to help carry now!”
Jarvis heard the man calling and trotted out to the front again.
“There you are. What were you doing?”
“You said that I could look around, and so I was doing just that.”
“Oh. Well, it’s time to leave, grab one of those crates there,” Tom said pointing to a case that contained a good two-dozen bottles.
So the crates were taken and Jarvis’ first trip to the small ink building was a success.