A Shady Plot...?

So I sat down to write a ghost story.

Jenkins was responsible.

"Hallock," he said to me ," give us another on the supernatural this time. Something to give 'em the horrors; that's what the public wants, and your ghosts are live propositions."

well, I was in no position to contradict Jenkins , for, as yet, his magazine had been the only one to print bmy stuff. So I had said,"Precisely !" in the deepest voice I was capable of, and had gone out.

I had no idea, but at the time that didn't worry he in the least.You see, I had often been like that before and in the end things had always come my way -I didn't in the least know how or why. It had all been rather mysterious. You understand I didn't speciliaze in ghost stories, but more or less they seemed to speciliaze in me. A ghost story had been the first fiction I had written. Curious how that idea for a plot had come to me out of nowhere after I had chased inspiration in vain for months! Even now whenever Jenkins wanted a ghost, he called on me, And I had never found it healthy to contradict Jenkins. Jenkins always seemed to have an uncanny knowledge as to when the landlord or the grocer was pestering me, and he dunned me for a ghost. And somehow I had always been able to dig one up for him, so I had begun to get a bit cocky as to my ability.

So I went home and sat down before my desk and sucked at the end of my pencil and waited, but nothing happened. Pretty soon my mind began to wander off on other things, decidedly unghostly and material tgings, such as my wife's shopping and how on earth I was going to cure her of her alarming tendency to take every new fad that came along and work it to death. But I realized that would never get me any place, so I went back to starting at the ceiling.

"This writting business is delightful, isn't? I said sarcastically at last, out loud, too. You see, I had reached the stage of imbecility when I was talking to myself.

"Yes," said a voice at the other end of the room,"I should say it is!"