Talking excitedly, I dragged him into the print shop to sign the paper.
Already trails were broken to the print shop from every direction.
The inky smell and the activity of the print shop fascinated him.
The first I noticed was in the window of a print shop, the owner a woman.
Get these circulars through a print shop and into the mails.
But everyone who had hung around the print shop watching Myrtle work, took a hand helping me.
Into the print shop walked a well-dressed stranger, a slender, energetic man of medium height.
Having broken the drifts on the first trip, it was not hard going, but it was midnight when we reached the print shop.
I lived in the print shop a great deal of the time that winter—an unusually open winter, barring a few blizzards and deep snows.
Driving back and forth from print shop to claim on Pinto was like crossing the desert on a camel.
