diff options
| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-26 22:21:18 -0800 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-26 22:21:18 -0800 |
| commit | e176fc7c921171c720b658369c19ccaf2cf04b03 (patch) | |
| tree | 592ceee91ba266143a322acf422ae137e05da21b /75475-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '75475-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/75475-h.htm | 9206 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 449426 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/coversmall.jpg | bin | 0 -> 261606 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/i_004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 79972 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/i_005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35497 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/i_200a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 78744 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/i_227a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 78702 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 75475-h/images/i_268a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 77329 bytes |
8 files changed, 9206 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/75475-h/75475-h.htm b/75475-h/75475-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8595e3f --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/75475-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9206 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The girl he left behind | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tiny {width: 5%; margin-left: 47.5%; margin-right: 47.55%;} +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } +hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} +.tdl {text-align: left; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.bbox {border: 2px solid; padding: 1em;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .first {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowe28_125 {width: 28.125em;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75475 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>THE GIRL HE LEFT BEHIND</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="bbox"> +<p class="ph1">THE “DO SOMETHING”<br> +BOOKS</p> + +<p class="center">BY<br> +HELEN BEECHER LONG</p> + +<hr class="full"> +<p><span class="smcap">Janice Day</span><br> +<span class="smcap">The Testing of Janice Day</span><br> +<span class="smcap">How Janice Day Won</span><br> +<span class="smcap">The Mission of Janice Day</span></p> + +<p class="center">12mo. Cloth. Illustrated<br> +Price per volume, $1.25 net</p> + +<hr class="full"> + +<p class="center">GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY<br> +<span class="smcap">New York</span></p> +</div></div></div></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_004"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_004.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“I leave you, Miss Clayton, to keep things +straight here!”</p> +<p class="right">(<i>See Page <a href="#Page_138">138</a></i>)</p> +</figcaption> +</figure> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_005.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">THE GIRL HE LEFT<br> +BEHIND</span></p> + +<p>BY<br> +<span class="xlarge">HELEN BEECHER LONG</span><br> + +Author of<br> +The “Janice Day” Books</p> + +<p>ILLUSTRATED BY<br> +<span class="large">R. EMMETT OWEN</span></p> + +<p><span class="large">GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY</span><br> +NEW YORK</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1918, by</span><br> +GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i><br> +<br> +<br> +PRINTED IN U. S. A.</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table> + + +<tr><td class="tdr"><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">I</td><td> “So Perfectly Capable”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11"> 11</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">II</td><td> A Comparison</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22"> 22</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">III</td><td> “Dogfennel”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30"> 30</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IV</td><td> The Skinners</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41"> 41</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">V</td><td> The Dream of a Star</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53"> 53</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VI</td><td> Two Good-byes</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66"> 66</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VII</td><td> Leading Up to a Climax</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77"> 77</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VIII</td><td> A Puzzling Situation</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89"> 89</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IX</td><td> The Duty Devolves</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_98"> 98</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">X</td><td> Love and Business</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107"> 107</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XI</td><td> War Is Declared</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_121"> 121</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XII</td><td> The Image He Took Away</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129"> 129</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIII</td><td> The Awakening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_140"> 140</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIV</td><td> Benway’s Discovery</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_152"> 152</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XV</td><td> From “Over There”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_164"> 164</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVI</td><td> The Clouds Thicken</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_175"> 175</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVII</td><td> A Rendezvous With Death</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_185"> 185</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII</td><td> The Wrath of the Hun</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_198"> 198</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIX</td><td> Uncertainties</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205"> 205</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XX</td><td> So Far Away!</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216"> 216</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXI</td><td> The Burden</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_224"> 224</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXII</td><td> The Fight</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231"> 231</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII</td><td> Comparisons</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241"> 241</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV</td><td> Opening the Way</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248"> 248</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXV</td><td> Compensation</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_259"> 259</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XXVI</td><td> His Awakening</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265"> 265</a></td></tr> +</table> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdl">“I leave you, Miss Clayton, to keep things +straight here!” (<i>See Page <a href="#Page_138">138</a></i>)</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td><td class="tdr"><small>FACING<br>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">He did fire—futilely, perhaps—as the great +car circled clumsily above the spot (<i>See +Page <a href="#Page_201">201</a></i>)</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_200"> 200</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">“I nominate her as assistant manager, to hold +the job till Frank Barton comes back!” +(<i>See Page <a href="#Page_227">227</a></i>)</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227"> 227</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">“You have been in my thoughts continually—the +girl I left behind” (<i>See Page <a href="#Page_268">268</a></i>)</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_268"> 268</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span></p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> +<p class="ph2">THE GIRL HE LEFT BEHIND</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br> + +<small>“SO PERFECTLY CAPABLE”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ethel Clayton</span> gathered the several letters with +their accompanying checks in a neat sheaf and rose +from her desk, which was placed nearest the door of +the manager’s office. With the papers in her left +hand she went to the door on which was stenciled +“Mr. Barton” and opened it without waiting for a +reply to her knock. She knew only Jim Mayberry +was in the room with the manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company.</p> + +<p>As she pushed the door inward she heard Frank +Barton saying:</p> + +<p>“I am puzzled what answer to make them, Jim.”</p> + +<p>The manager was at his desk. Mayberry, leaning +back in his chair, nodded understandingly and in +agreement. The general manager was not in the +habit of taking the superintendent of the factory into +his confidence in particular instances and Mayberry +was alive to that fact. He listened. Listening, and +keeping one’s mouth shut, never hurt a man yet.</p> + +<p>The girl at the door of the office waited, too. Her +business with the manager was important, if not imperative.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>“The Bogata people have been good customers of +ours in the past,” went on Barton, reflectively. “But +I have inside information that their credit is wabbly. +It is strained, just as ours has been. If we tied up +twenty to thirty thousand dollars in their particular +line of goods, and then had the goods left on our +hands, it might be fatal to the Hapwood-Diller Company, +even now.</p> + +<p>“The expansion of mercantile values and the increase +in profits have not struck our kind of production, +as you very well know, Jim. Our stock is not +listed among the ‘war brides.’ Rather it might better +be termed a ‘war widow.’ The company has had a +hard pull, Jim. We can’t afford to take many +chances.”</p> + +<p>Again the superintendent sat tight and merely +nodded. The declining sun delivered slanting rays in +through the high windows of the general manager’s +office. The two men—neither of whom had arrived +at thirty years—sat with preternaturally grave faces, +one ruminating upon the event that had unexpectedly +arisen in the affairs of the concern they had both +worked for since boyhood; the other possibly giving +much more thought to his own personal matters.</p> + +<p>For Jim Mayberry, without being in the least +neglectful of his duties as superintendent of the factory, +was a person given much to the contemplation +of what he called “the prime law of nature: Looking +out for Number One.” He did, however, suggest:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>“Those Bogata people have been all right folks, +Frank. The factory’s made money on their orders.”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it,” the manager returned briskly, but +with a gesture that betrayed his indecision.</p> + +<p>He was a tall, black-haired, virile fellow, clean +shaven, good color in his cheeks, and impeccably +dressed. Mayberry, in contrast, had light hair which +already he plastered across his crown to hide an incipient +bald spot. He wore a small blond moustache +and had numerous wrinkles about his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Just the same it is not safe, I firmly believe, to +accept the order. But a brusk refusal might do the +Hapwood-Diller Company untold harm at some future +time. The Bogata concern may come back. Miracles +do happen.”</p> + +<p>“Better accept the order then,” Mayberry put in. +“We can postpone filling it. We don’t have to give a +bond. If they really prove to be shaky, we can renege.”</p> + +<p>The girl, who had come in and softly closed the door, +flashed the superintendent a glance that was all scorn +for business ethics thus expressed. But Barton replied +quite calmly:</p> + +<p>“Two objections to that, Jim. In the first place +the Hapwood-Diller Company has always based its +policy on honor. Secondly, it is unwise for us to tie +up any money at all in beginning a job we do not +intend to complete.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>“Aw!” grunted the superintendent. His vocabulary—at +this juncture at least—seemed not to be +extensive.</p> + +<p>There had been a rising murmur in the street under +the open windows for some minutes. Now the sudden +crash of martial music broke upon their ears. Barton’s +countenance became vivid with interest, and he +swung himself erect and strode to the nearest window.</p> + +<p>“Here come the boys,” he said, pride vibrating in +his voice. He was very military looking. Nothing +but the “setting up exercise” could ever have made his +shoulders so very square and his splendidly muscled +torso taper to so narrow a waist.</p> + +<p>Mayberry rose and sauntered after him. “Mailsburg’s +heroes,” he observed. “I suppose you’re +wishing you were marching away with them, Frank.”</p> + +<p>The other said nothing, but his eyes glowed. The +marching column swung around the corner following +the band—a column in khaki, a color already becoming +familiar on the streets although war was not many +months old.</p> + +<p>Ethel had gone to the other window and was likewise +looking out upon the quota of the National +Guard, with packs and rifles, on their way to the +railroad station. A little group of women, girls and +children clung to the column and kept pace with it. +The men spectators seemed rather ashamed to follow +on, but stood, nevertheless, on the curb to watch +the boys go by.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>“I expect they’ll have a hot old time down at that +training camp,” drawled Mayberry.</p> + +<p>Barton did not seem to hear him. His hand came +to salute as the colors went by.</p> + +<p>A volume of voices rose from below as the band +music drifted into the distance.</p> + +<p>“And mebbe marching to their graves!”</p> + +<p>“It’s a shame that some that can least be spared +have to go while them that would never be missed +keep out of it.”</p> + +<p>“You’re right! Some of ’em’s got fathers an’ +mothers, an’ wives!” cried a shrill voice, “while them +that ain’t got a soul dependent on ’em——”</p> + +<p>“There’s one yonder,” was the quick rejoinder. +“And had all the benefit of Guard training too!” +And the speaker, a woman, directed the gaze of her +companions to the office window.</p> + +<p>Mayberry chuckled. “They’ve pinned you to the +wall, Frank,” he murmured in the ear of the white-faced +manager.</p> + +<p>Ethel Clayton had turned suddenly from the +window. “Have you time to sign these checks and +letters before the outgoing mail, Mr. Barton?” she +asked.</p> + +<p>He took the papers, but did not verbally reply for a +moment. His countenance had become calm again, +if still pale, when he had seated himself in his chair +and turned in it so that the others could both observe +him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>“I will sign them at once, Miss Clayton,” Barton +said quite composedly. “But first——”</p> + +<p>For a moment his gaze centered upon her. There +was something wholly good to look at in the girl’s +face and figure. Had she not dressed so practically +for her work her personal attractions would have been +further enhanced. Mayberry was watching her, too; +and his gaze betrayed a certain eagerness, whereas the +manager’s eyes merely revealed expectancy. Then he +flicked a glance in Mayberry’s direction.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps Miss Clayton might give us a word of +advice upon this matter, Jim?” he said questioningly, +and with a quizzical little smile.</p> + +<p>The superintendent, a little startled, shifted his gaze +from the girl’s face to the manager’s countenance. +Ethel, perfectly composed, waited for the explanation +of Barton’s observation.</p> + +<p>“Woman’s intuition forever!” the latter ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Frank?” hastily demanded +Jim Mayberry. “If you and I don’t know what to +do——”</p> + +<p>Ethel flushed faintly, but looked questioningly at +the manager. The implied doubt of her ability in +Mayberry’s tone possibly piqued her. Frank Barton +said in his good-natured, easy manner:</p> + +<p>“Oh, we know <i>what</i> to do. But it’s the way the +thing is done. You know about this new Bogata +order, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“Of course, Mr. Barton.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>“I do not see how we can accept it. The Bogata +Company is not in good financial standing. But we +must not offend them. The refusal must be one to +which they cannot take exception. It is a big order, +and they have sent it in without question, just as +though they expected us to get to work on it with +merely an acknowledgment of the favor.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” the girl said in her composed way.</p> + +<p>“You are so perfectly capable, Miss Clayton,” +laughed the general manager. “See what you can do +with the matter. Do you think we can keep within +the lines of safety, and yet make no enemy of the +Bogata people?”</p> + +<p>“I believe it can be done, Mr. Barton,” replied the +girl.</p> + +<p>There was a decision in her manner of speaking that +revealed Ethel Clayton as being quite what the general +manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company had said +she was—“capable.”</p> + +<p>“See what you can do with a letter, then,” Barton +went on, producing the order sheets in question and +handing them to her along with the letters and checks +he had signed.</p> + +<p>She left the private office without further word. +Jim Mayberry was frowning.</p> + +<p>“You’re trusting a good deal to that girl, Frank,” +he growled.</p> + +<p>“I’ve never trusted anything to her yet that she +hasn’t handled all right,” the manager replied easily.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +“If I manage to—to get away, Jim, you’ll find her a +great help here.”</p> + +<p>“Uh-huh!” grunted the superintendent. “Maybe.”</p> + +<p>“You are insular,” laughed Frank Barton. “The +women are forging to the front, man. Miss Clayton +is far more capable than some of the heads of departments +who have grown gray here.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe,” agreed the superintendent. “But I +don’t want to see her out there in overalls, bossing my +men around. Don’t forget that, Frank.”</p> + +<p>The superintendent arose and strolled out of the +private office. In the larger desk room he halted and +watched the “capable” girl at her desk nearest the +manager’s door. Ethel was the “buffer” between +much outside annoyance and the general manager of +the Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p>There were gold and red lights in her chestnut hair; +the pallor of her countenance was not unhealthy; +merely she was not enough in the open. But where +the sun had kissed the bridge of her nose there was a +sprinkle of tiny freckles. There were flecks of gold, +too, in her brown eyes. Her mouth and chin were +firm rather than soft, and the gaze of her eyes direct; +nevertheless there was nothing unfeminine about her +appearance.</p> + +<p>The severest critic could hold no brief against the +charms of her figure. Her arms were beautifully +rounded, her wrists tapering, her hands just the right +size. She had a naturally small waist, and the lines<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> +of her hips showed that her limbs were slenderly yet +strongly built. She was a tall girl.</p> + +<p>The superintendent caught her eye after a moment, +she looking up thoughtfully from the papers before +her.</p> + +<p>“You want to handle that business with gloves, +Ethel,” he advised in a low voice. “Barton’s hardly +himself to-day—the boys going away and all. He +thinks that, with three years’ experience in bossing +those sappies around the armory, he should jump right +into this war. Get to be a general or something right +off the handle,” and he chuckled.</p> + +<p>Again the girl’s face flushed softly and she dropped +her gaze. She made him no reply at all, but Mayberry +went on:</p> + +<p>“And that Fuller girl’s got him running around in +circles, too. You can see he isn’t himself, or he would +not balk at such an order as this from the Bogata +people. Why, they’re all right folks. The factory’s +made a lot of money out of their orders. And +here——”</p> + +<p>“Did Mr. Barton ask you to discuss this matter +with me, Mr. Mayberry?” asked the girl coldly and +without looking up again. “If not, please remember +that he has commissioned me to write a letter to them +that will meet his approval. Don’t bother me now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, pshaw, Ethel!” the man said, smiling down at +her unctuously. “Don’t take every little thing so +blame seriously. Frank Barton and I were kids together.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> +I can’t fall down and worship him the way +some of you do. Anyway, you’d better show him how +to take a chance with these Bogata people—if you +really want to <i>help</i>. I know they’re all right.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you tell that to Mr. Barton?” the girl +asked rather tartly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, pshaw!” chuckled the superintendent. “Let +it go till to-morrow. It’s almost closing time, anyway. +Take a little spin in that car of mine before +supper, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you; no.”</p> + +<p>“Aw! don’t act so offishly, Ethel. You’ve never +been to ride with me yet.”</p> + +<p>“I understand that other girls have—to their sorrow,” +Miss Clayton responded in a tone that cut +through even Jim Mayberry’s skin. He flushed dully +and his lazy eyes began to glow.</p> + +<p>“Don’t believe everything you hear, Ethel,” he +said. “I want to talk to you about that. Let me +drive you home to-night and I’ll explain these stories +that you have heard.”</p> + +<p>He strolled away as Little Skinner came across the +room to ask a question. Could it be that Little Skinner +had received a secret signal to break in upon the +superintendent’s objectionable line of conversation? +At least, her business with Ethel was brief.</p> + +<p>The latter’s attention immediately returned to the +problem the manager had put up to her for solution. +She was made proud whenever Frank Barton did anything<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> +like this, and of late it was not infrequent that +he had shown his trust in her ability.</p> + +<p>Yet there was a sting in the way he had spoken, too. +She knew well enough that the sting was unintentional +on his part. Never had the general manager +been other than scrupulously polite to her. She was +always “Miss Clayton” to him, and he deferred to her +in many ways and was as courteous in his busiest +moments as he could have been meeting her at a social +affair. That was Frank Barton’s way.</p> + +<p>But—</p> + +<p>She found that her gaze had wandered from the +papers before her to the small mirror set into the +rather ornate inkstand that stood upon her desk—a +birthday present from her office mates not many +months before. The girl reflected there was, Ethel +Clayton very well knew, better looking than the +average girl. Her even features were quietly beautiful. +She perhaps lacked the verve and dash possessed +by some girls. She had one particular girl in mind +as she thought this. She lacked the tricks of the social +trade too, that that same girl possessed.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders and brought her attention +back with a jerk to the matter in hand. But +there was faint disgust in her tone as she murmured:</p> + +<p>“Yes, just as he says: ‘Miss Clayton is so perfectly +capable.’ Pah!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br> + +<small>A COMPARISON</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">She</span> read the letter from the Bogata Company and +again glanced through the order. It was a large one. +It called for certain supplies she knew the factory +did not have on hand. She realized that the goods +ordered were all of a special pattern and would be +practically useless either to the Hapwood-Diller Company +or to any other concern save the Bogata people +if the latter should be unable to take the goods.</p> + +<p>Yet this letter assumed that the order would be accepted +and the goods turned out without any hesitancy +on the part of the manufacturers, and upon the usual +terms. The Bogata Company ignored the possibility +of the Hapwood-Diller Company having heard of its +financial embarrassments. The letter and accompanying +order were sent, Ethel was sure, in a spirit of +bravado. To use a common phrase, the Bogata +people were “trying to put something over.”</p> + +<p>If the scheme went through, all well and good. +The Hapwood-Diller Company might be made the +means of saving the Bogata people from actual and +complete collapse. Ethel knew, however, that her +employing concern was in no shape to assume such a +burden. Yet if the firm ordering the goods finally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +pulled out of its quagmire of financial difficulty, its +friendship rather than its enmity was to be desired.</p> + +<p>Her mind centered upon the matter, the logical +circumstances connected with it marching in slow +procession through her brain. She was acquainted +with every important order now on the factory’s +books. Even Jim Mayberry had no better grasp of +the details of the factory’s affairs than Ethel Clayton.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she got up and went to a file cabinet +wherein was listed the particulars of all orders as yet +unfinished. She began to figure with pencil and pad +upon the already promised output of the factory and +its possible output when the force was driven at top +speed.</p> + +<p>Her calculations led her to certain unmistakable +conclusions. She went back to her desk, calmly +wrote the letter, typed it, and took the letter and her +figures in to Barton. He was about to close his desk +for the day.</p> + +<p>“Do you think you have succeeded?” he asked, +smiling and taking the typed sheet from her hand. +But in a moment he glanced up quickly and with a +slight frown. “What is this you say here, Miss +Clayton? We cannot accept the order because of +work already contracted for? Why, that——”</p> + +<p>“Is the plain truth, Mr. Barton!” she exclaimed, +putting forward her array of figures. “The factory +is now working maximum hours and with a full crew +in all departments. I have heard you say yourself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +that either extra help or overtime cuts into the profits +rather than increases them. To fulfill contracts we +have accepted, if you took on this of the Bogata Company, +we would have to run the machines longer +hours and pay extra wages. The Bogata people offer +no price for their work to cover such an increased +cost. My letter embodies the actual truth without +going into particulars; but my statements can be +easily proved if they are inclined to be critical.”</p> + +<p>Barton’s face had been gradually lighting up, and +it was with real admiration that he said at her conclusion:</p> + +<p>“Fine! I’ll sign that and you can put it in the mail +in the morning. Has John gone to the post-office?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Barton.”</p> + +<p>“The morning will do,” said the general manager, +affixing his signature to the letter. “You certainly +are a capable assistant.”</p> + +<p>She flushed at his words as she turned from his desk; +and the color remained in her countenance for some +time. But it was not a flush of pleasure. Indeed, the +expression of her countenance was not at all happy +as she closed her desk and left the main office a little +later.</p> + +<p>At the street exit she hesitated; then she went back +through the drying and cutting rooms and had John +Murphy let her out of the side gate which would not +be opened for an hour yet for the exit of the factory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +hands. She had caught a glimpse of Jim Mayberry +sitting in his car out in front.</p> + +<p>She did not like the superintendent, and for more +reasons than one. In the first place, he was one of +those men who seem to have no respect at all for girls +who worked. Ethel was not sure how well he was received +by Mailsburg people whose first thoughts were +of society. But Mayberry had a bad reputation +among many respectable people. Careful mothers +and fathers frowned on his attentions to their daughters.</p> + +<p>As she turned into Burnaby Street on her way +home she saw Frank Barton ahead of her. His military +stride was likewise taking him briskly homeward. +The girl might have hastened her own steps and joined +him; but she hesitated, for that was not like Ethel +Clayton. Her association with the handsome general +manager of the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company +had been entirely on a business footing. The +fact that they attended the same church had scarcely +brought them together outside the offices of the concern.</p> + +<p>Barton was well liked by most Mailsburg people. +Especially had he been commended for his work of the +last two years—since he had been raised to the pinnacle +of general manager of the biggest manufacturing concern +in the town.</p> + +<p>Yet there are always carping critics in every place +and in any event. As mark the criticism hurled at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> +the young manager from the sidewalk that afternoon +as the boys were marching from the National Guard +Armory to the railway station.</p> + +<p>Ethel knew that the suggestion that Barton was a +slacker must have hurt the general manager cruelly. +She, perhaps as well as anybody else, knew why Frank +Barton, trained in the Guard, and a military man from +choice, was not marching away with this first quota +at the call to arms.</p> + +<p>If many Mailsburg people looked at Barton in the +way suggested by the careless criticism which had +lately reached his ears, Ethel Clayton knew that the +manager’s existence was going to be a hard one. She +did not want to see him go to the war. Indeed, she +was by no means inspired as yet with any degree of +patriotism. The war was too remote and our reason +for entering into it too theoretical. The blood of but +few of our men had been shed, and those were, as a rule, +such as were connected with the more spectacular +portions of the service, nor had our women and children +been butchered by the Hun.</p> + +<p>In her heart Ethel longed to say something to Frank +Barton to ease the wound which he had suffered that +afternoon. Should she overtake him and speak? +And then, even while she hesitated, the humming of a +smoothly running automobile sounded behind her.</p> + +<p>She turned to look, startled, fearing it was Jim +Mayberry. But a girl was driving the car that +swerved in toward the curb, stopping just beside the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> +manager of the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Barton!”</p> + +<p>The girl in the car was handsome, but with a high +color and a shrill voice. She had a great deal of light +hair, which was carefully dressed; she wore an expensive +motor hat and veil; her cerise motor coat was +of heavy silk. If the frame ever sets off the picture to +advantage, then Helen Fuller was a work of art!</p> + +<p>“It’s just too, too lovely that I should catch you this +way, Mr. Barton,” she cried, as Ethel approached +nearer. “You can’t say you are busy and I am <i>sure</i> +it is not yet dinner time. I <i>must</i> see you about our +garden festival. You know, for the Red Cross. We +<i>all</i> must do our bit <i>these</i> days. Do hop in and advise +with poor me.”</p> + +<p>Ethel came within range of Barton’s vision. He +gave her as usual one of his warm, kind smiles, lifting +his hat. Helen Fuller stared at the passing girl, who +plainly heard her scornful query: “One of your factory +hands, Mr. Barton?”</p> + +<p>“One of our office force—and one of the most valuable +on the pay roll of the Hapwood-Diller Company, +Miss Fuller, I assure you.”</p> + +<p>But the cheerful reply did not take the barb out of +the wound Helen Fuller’s question had made. A little +farther along the street, however, Ethel shook herself +and murmured:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>“What a perfect fool I am! It is ridiculous to mind +anything that Helen Fuller says. She remembers +very well going to school with me and that I was +always at or near the head of the class and she at the +foot. That was before Grandon Fuller had that stock +in the company left him by Uncle Diller. Dear me! +how the possession of money changes some people.” +Then, and cheerfully, she exclaimed aloud: “Ah! +here’s Benway.”</p> + +<p>A young man with a perfectly splendid head of +brown curly hair, flawless complexion, level brows, +fine, open gray eyes set well apart, a straight nose and +lips not full enough to be sensuous but not too thin, +the whole countenance softened by a cleft chin and +humorous lines at the corners of his mouth—that was +Benway Chase.</p> + +<p>He came swinging along the walk and seized Ethel +companionably by her right arm, although that placed +him upon the inner side of the path. She met his +look with one of pleasure, and they went on together +like the good comrades they were.</p> + +<p>People whom they knew and met greeted them with +a matter-of-course air. To see Ethel Clayton and +Ben Chase together was nothing astonishing for +Mailsburg folk. They had been neighbors and chums +since they were in rompers.</p> + +<p>Her brightness of countenance faded when her old +chum left her at the gate of the Clayton cottage. She +cast a commiserating glance after him as he went on,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +whistling. It was not until then that the withered, +useless right arm of the young man became really +noticeable.</p> + +<p>She called to her mother that she was home from +work and went up to her room to freshen her dress for +dinner. Benway slipped out of her mind as she did +this—and most other things, save one. That was a +comparison she had begun to make on Burnaby Street +between herself and Helen Fuller.</p> + +<p>Was she jealous of the other girl? Why should she +be? She was sure she would not care to change places +with Miss Fuller, money and all, for any consideration. +Yet—</p> + +<p>She saw Frank Barton getting into the Fuller car, +which Helen drove so conspicuously about the streets +of Mailsburg. Ethel Clayton could not do that! +Ethel must work, and dress plainly six days in the +week because of her position. Miss Fuller was always +dressed as gaily as a bird of paradise. And one must +confess that men’s eyes were attracted—sometimes +blinded—by gay clothes. Frank Barton could not be +blamed for being a man. No. She had no complaint +to make against Frank Barton. He was always polite +and kind and appreciative.</p> + +<p>“And he’d be all of that to a stray kitten that +chanced to cross his path!” she ejaculated in sudden +disgust. “Helen Fuller has something to offer him +that I haven’t.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br> + +<small>“DOGFENNEL”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Frank Barton</span> stepped into the car beside Miss +Fuller and was whirled away, a willing captive. To +tell the truth, the general manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company had been so busy fitting himself for +his present situation with the corporation, which he +had now held two years, that he had found little play-time. +Having been motherless since childhood, and +always sisterless, he probably knew less about women +than any normal man in Mailsburg who had arrived +at the age of twenty-eight.</p> + +<p>No girl had before so plainly shown that she was +interested in him—and Miss Fuller only recently. +Her curiosity had first been piqued by hearing Grandon +Fuller speak in strong approval of the manager. +Barton had pulled the concern out of a slough of financial +trouble that had threatened to ruin the Hapwood-Diller +Company.</p> + +<p>The Fullers had not always been wealthy. At least, +not the Grandon-Fuller branch. Not until Israel +Diller died and left them the bulk of his holdings in the +Hapwood-Diller Company were they any better off +than their neighbors on the far end of Burnaby Street, +where Ethel Clayton and her mother and the Chases +still lived.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>With the money Mrs. Fuller—an ambitious woman—had +set out to be the leader of Mailsburg’s society. +To a certain degree she had succeeded. Helen was +growing up to be a society devotee and with scarcely +a sensible idea in her head. But she had beauty, and +she made the most of that.</p> + +<p>It was the thing, too, to be alive with interest in +some semi-public topic or other; and Helen was alive +to the value of self-advertising. A week never +went by that her name did not appear in the society +news of the city or county papers. She had been out +just as long as Frank Barton had been manager of the +Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p>She did not really care a fillip for Frank Barton—not +at this time—nor for any other man. But she +thoroughly enjoyed the reputation of having more +men dangling after her than any other girl in Mailsburg. +She even endured the society of that “tame +cat,” Morrison Copley; for at least he counted!</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Barton,” Helen said, having got the +manager beside her in the driving seat of the car. +“Really, you show very little interest in your country’s +welfare. Don’t you realize <i>yet</i> we are <i>at war</i>?”</p> + +<p>Barton’s face was rather glum, but he tried to +speak lightly. “I read something about it in the +papers. I’ve been so extremely busy, Miss Fuller, +I fear I should only know of it from hearsay if the +Germans sailed up the creek and landed at old +Hammerly’s dock.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>“The boys of the National Guard marched away to-day!” +she cried.</p> + +<p>“Yes. That does make it look serious,” he agreed +in a graver strain.</p> + +<p>“Everybody should do his or her bit, Mr. Barton,” +the girl said with an admonitory air. “I am <i>astonished</i> +at you. As I tell Morry Copley, if I were a man +nothing should keep me out of uniform. I <i>do</i> think +those khaki colors are awfully <i>sweet</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I fear,” Barton said grimly, “that the fellows who +put on khaki because it looks ‘sweet’ will not make +particularly good soldiers.”</p> + +<p>“Morry Copley, for instance?” and she laughed at +herself and at the non-present Copley. “Oh, well, you +know what I mean. It really seems <i>too</i> bad that so +many of you men in this town are not a bit patriotic.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got me wrong, Miss Fuller,” the manager +said hastily and in considerable earnestness. “I do +not think I lack patriotism. But one must fulfill +one’s duty.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, business!” she exclaimed, scornfully.</p> + +<p>He was on the defensive. “Your father’s income +from our company is what enables you to drive about +in this car, Miss Fuller,” he said bluntly.</p> + +<p>“Now, <i>don’t</i>, for pity’s sake, talk <i>business</i> to me. +I really don’t understand a thing about it. I presume +that girl who passed us just now—Clayton is her name?—may +possess all the business acumen needed. I +haven’t <i>her</i> experience.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>And Frank Barton, startled, wondered why Helen +Fuller had taken the trouble to slur Ethel Clayton.</p> + +<p>The Fuller house, built on the exodus of the family +from Burnaby Street, was just the dwelling one knowing +Grandon Fuller and his wife would expect it to +be. It was very large and very important looking, +with a lot of gingerbread trimming about the eaves +and veranda roof and the porte-cochère.</p> + +<p>A footman in a conspicuous livery stood at attention +as Helen stopped her car under the covered way. +With a silver whistle this flunky summoned a man +from the garage to take the automobile. Barton +followed his hostess to the other end of the veranda +where quite a party—mostly the younger matrons +and the girls of Mailsburg’s smart set—were gathered. +Tea had been made and two other liveried servants +were rolling service tables about from group to group.</p> + +<p>“Well, I have accomplished something,” Helen +said, after an apology for not being at home when +her guests arrived and dropping with assumed weariness +into a comfortable chair. Immediately her +maid put a knitting bag into her lap and her mistress +seized the needles with avidity. “Every stitch counts, +you know,” she went on. “I only wish I might knit +while I drive my machine. But that is impossible. +And I told father I’d drive the car myself and so let +Charles, our chauffeur, enlist. We women must do +our part. Let’s see, Marie; how many of these +sweaters have I done for the soldiers?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>“That is Mam’selle’s second this fortnight,” said +the French maid, without losing her composure. +That she did nine-tenths of the work, Helen merely +rattling the needles while company was present, was +not a matter for the world to know.</p> + +<p>“You all know Mr. Barton, I think,” Helen went +on, placing the manager in a chair near her, as though +he were a stray kitten she had picked up on the street +and brought home as a curiosity. “I’ve managed +to interest <i>him</i> in our garden party. Really, he should +be made to do a good deal for the Red Cross. He +has not done a sin-gle sol-i-ta-ry thing as yet for the +<i>cause</i>. I tell him he is a slacker of the first water.”</p> + +<p>Some who chanced to hear her smiled. Frank +Barton’s ears fairly burned. It was no joke for him; +yet he admitted that Miss Fuller did not understand—<i>would</i> +not understand, perhaps—why he was not +in khaki.</p> + +<p>“Bah Jove!” drawled the high and somewhat +effeminate voice of Morrison Copley, “Mr. Barton +has plenty of company in this burg. I heard old +Hammerly say he thought of offering a reward for +the discovery of a single man within the conscription +age here who joins from patriotic motives. He says +patriotism died out in Mailsburg in the last generation.”</p> + +<p>“By the way, Morry,” asked a fellow with the +bulging shoulders of a prizefighter together with a +dissipated face, “how did <i>you</i> get exempted?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>“Dependent parent,” returned Copley. “You +know, mothaw really couldn’t get on without me.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true enough,” sneered the other. “Madam +Copley would be lost without her baby boy.”</p> + +<p>Morrison Copley did not, however, lack the keener +weapons of retort. “That’s all right, Bradley. I +understand you gave the exemption board the names +of two dependent barkeepers.”</p> + +<p>The laugh that followed this sally enabled Frank +Barton to recover his composure. These fellows +boldly acknowledged their lack of patriotic feeling. +He knew that his reasons for claiming exemption +until the Hapwood-Diller Company was in good +shape again were, at least, commendable.</p> + +<p>In a desultory way plans were made for the forthcoming +garden party to raise funds for the local Red +Cross chapter. Barton did not find that either his +advice or his efforts were much needed. But he did +get a chance to talk with Miss Fuller; and he was not +a deep enough student of feminine nature to understand +just how shallow she was.</p> + +<p>The Fullers were of the best socially there was in +Mailsburg, despite the fact that their money had +come to them comparatively late. Mrs. Fuller’s +maiden name had been Diller, and the Dillers dated +their aristocracy in the county back to pre-Revolution +days. To Barton, whose antecedents had been quite +unimportant, such connections in a social way seemed +worthy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>“Come again to see me, Mr. Barton, when I am +alone,” Helen whispered, when he rose to follow the +very first group with their knitting bags that made +its departure. “One must give one’s self more or +less to one’s guests when there is a crowd like this. +I want you to take dinner with us soon—quite <i>en +famille</i>. Will you?”</p> + +<p>Barton promised. Grandon Fuller had always been +cordial with him, and he was glad to be <i>persona grata</i> +with the family. After all, it meant considerable to +him to be taken up by the Fullers.</p> + +<p>He was the only person on this occasion to walk +away from the house. The others rode in some kind +of vehicle. But somebody got into step with Barton +less than ten yards from the gateway.</p> + +<p>“What brings you into the swagger part of the +town, Frank?” demanded a harsh voice. “You are +not hatching something with Fuller to double-cross +the rest of the Hapwood-Diller stockholders?”</p> + +<p>The young manager knew the character of the +speaker too well to be offended. Macon Hammerly +wore an apparent grouch to shield himself from the +importunities of his fellowmen. He actually could +not say “No” to any request or favor asked, unless +he shouted it.</p> + +<p>He was a dry old fellow with stiff, badly brushed +iron-gray hair and an aggressive chin-whisker. He +was the last man in Mailsburg to wear “half leg” +boots and had a local cobbler make them for him.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> +He kept a feed and grain store down on the docks +and possessed in all probability more cash in the +bank than any other man in town. But he made no +display of it.</p> + +<p>He was distantly related to the Fullers; and he +made no display of that, although Helen called him +“Uncle.” He bent a curious and somewhat disapproving +eye upon Barton as he waited for his +answer.</p> + +<p>“I was just calling there.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! On whom?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Fuller took me up into her car and brought +me over. It seems there is to be a garden party for +the Red Cross——”</p> + +<p>“Expected it must be something about a cross,” +grumbled Macon Hammerly. “Red Cross or what +not, it will be the double-cross for you if you don’t +look out. You’ve nothing in common, Frank, with +that dogfennel.”</p> + +<p>“With <i>what</i>?” asked Barton, chuckling. “That’s a +new one!”</p> + +<p>“A new name for that inconsequential, useless +crowd that circle about Grandon Fuller’s gal? Huh! +D’you know any better name for them? There +ain’t nothing more useless and picayune along the +road than dogfennel. That whole bunch isn’t worth +the powder to blow it to Halifax!”</p> + +<p>“‘Dogfennel’,” and Barton still chuckled. “I don’t +know but you are rather hard on our common may-weed.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> +But I grant you that some of those people +I met back there are quite as futile as the name implies. +But Miss Fuller herself! She is a remarkably +pretty girl.”</p> + +<p>The old man in the linen duster and the broad-brimmed +hat was quite as emphatic as Barton expected +him to be. “So’s dogfennel pretty—if you +like weeds. I don’t want to see you mixing in with +that crowd, Frank. How’s business?”</p> + +<p>“Better. Had to turn down a big order to-day, but +I think we were justified in doing so.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! Who says so? You and Jim Mayberry?” +growled Hammerly, who kept in quite close touch +with the factory affairs.</p> + +<p>“Not altogether,” Barton smilingly replied. “We +took the advice of Miss Clayton.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! You <i>did</i>?” Hammerly listened quietly to the +manager’s explanation, commenting in his usual tart +way, but with open satisfaction: “You do show some +sense once in a while, Frank. She’s got a head on +her, that Ethel Clayton. And you are right, I’ll +bet a cooky! The Bogata people are due to bust inside +of three months. Mark my words.”</p> + +<p>The two men separated at a corner and Barton +strode on to his boarding house and the dinner which +he knew would be dished up cold to him now. Mrs. +Trevor played no table favorites in her ménage. +The manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> +not happy. His reflections were tinged with a hue +of disgust at his own equivocal situation.</p> + +<p>He knew he had good and sufficient reason for not +enlisting the minute of the declaration that a state +of war with Germany existed. The same reason had +kept him at home when many of his comrades in the +Guard had gone to the Mexican Border.</p> + +<p>He had been spending his strength and thought +to one end since being placed in charge of the Hapwood-Diller +Manufacturing Company. The war had +struck the concern hard, cutting off or doubling the +price of supplies without broadening the market for +manufactured wares or increasing the profit on them.</p> + +<p>Upon the dividends of the company many families +in Mailsburg depended for their very daily bread. +Had the dividends been reduced or even passed for +several successive quarters, the Fullers would have +got along all right; but there were stockholders whose +livelihood depended utterly upon the factory running +on full time and turning a profit on every dollar’s +worth of product that left the shipping room. And +Frank Barton seemed to be the only man to keep it +so running.</p> + +<p>For the most part these needy folk were widows or +orphans or old people past working age, who had +received their stock from one or another of the original +owners of the factory. These helpless people Barton +had felt particularly his charge. To throw up his +job and join the colors might ruin the small fry depending<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> +upon the success of the Hapwood-Diller +Company’s affairs. Until of late he had scarcely +found breathing space to think of anything save the +business of the factory.</p> + +<p>But now! The boys marching away earlier in the +day had stabbed Frank Barton to the quick. He +was not a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. It +was only those who knew him best who suspected +the rankling wound he suffered when his course was +unfavorably compared with that of the guardsmen +whose brother-in-arms he had been.</p> + +<p>Even Helen Fuller had accused him of being a +slacker, and had compared him with Morry Copley +and that Bradley fellow. Barton’s gorge rose as he +thought of this.</p> + +<p>“A slacker, eh?” he muttered to himself. “A +slacker, am I?”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br> + +<small>THE SKINNERS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jim Mayberry</span> was smoking his second cigarette +when a girl came out of the main door of the factory +offices. She was a slim, rather startled looking girl. +Her flaxen hair was pulled back so tightly as to raise +her eyebrows perceptibly; this opened very wide her +eyes and seemed even to pull the point of her nose +up a little and raise her upper lip to display two little +rabbit teeth.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Skinner,” said the superintendent. “Isn’t +Ethel ’most ready?”</p> + +<p>“Hello, Jim Mayberry,” responded the girl, who +felt no obligation to show the superintendent any +particular respect outside the factory. “Going to +take me home in your flivver?”</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you afraid to ride with me?” asked the +man with a slow smile.</p> + +<p>“Nope. You try to get funny with <i>me</i> and I’ll +scratch your eyes out.”</p> + +<p>“My!” drawled Mayberry, “aren’t you the catty +thing?”</p> + +<p>“You’d think so,” rejoined the flat-chested girl +with all the strutting boastfulness of a boy. “No +feller’s ever going to kiss <i>me</i> if I don’t want him to.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>“I bet you!” agreed the superintendent with mock +admiration. “But where’s Ethel?”</p> + +<p>“You aren’t waiting for her, are you, Jim?” the +slim girl asked, giggling.</p> + +<p>“I thought I was.”</p> + +<p>“Then there’s another thought coming to you,” +declared the delighted Skinner. “Ethel went long +ago—out through the side gate. Guess she must +have suspected you’d be waiting here.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry uttered a brief and impolite expletive. +That did not trouble Mabel Skinner. She lived in +a house full of rough men. Her mother was dead +and an older sister kept house for the Skinners. The +children of Sam Skinner had not been brought up +according to the Puritan acceptance of the term. +Like Topsy, they had “just growed.”</p> + +<p>“She wouldn’t ride in that flivver with you anyway,” +Mabel Skinner added. “But I would.”</p> + +<p>“Jump in, then, Little Skinner,” the superintendent +said, without further advertising his chagrin.</p> + +<p>“I hope my Sunday School teacher won’t see me,” +the girl observed, getting in beside him quickly. +“If she does she will know I am riding fast to perdition. +And <i>do</i> make your old rattle-bang go as fast +as possible, Jim. I just love to scoot over the road. +Gee, if I’d only been made a boy instead of a girl, +I’d have been a jockey.”</p> + +<p>“Hear the girl!” chuckled Mayberry, who was +really after all too good-natured to be spiteful to his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> +guest. “You’ll be up in one of these flying machines +yet.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that would be grand! I’d go to France and +join the flying corps. That girl from Texas that got +over there with the first batch of Yankee soldiers—did +you read about her? They got on to her and +sent her back. That’s because she got married to +one of the buddies. Catch <i>me</i>! I wouldn’t marry +the best man alive.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t,” prophesied Jim Mayberry, still +chuckling.</p> + +<p>“Smartie! Anyhow, I wouldn’t fall for any man +I’ve ever seen yet. Not even Mr. Barton,” she added, +as though there might be some doubt in her mind +about the general manager.</p> + +<p>“Humph! who has fallen for him?” demanded the +superintendent suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“Every girl in town but me,” declared Mabel +Skinner promptly, but grinning impishly, “He’s an +awfully nice man, is Mr. Barton.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I’d fall for him myself if I were a girl, I +guess,” Mayberry agreed.</p> + +<p>“Yes—you—would! Say, that’s my corner!”</p> + +<p>“I know. But I’m going to spin you around the +reservoir and bring you home the other way.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, bully!” ejaculated the girl, fairly jumping in +her seat. “I’m being run away with by a man. +Never thought it would happen to me. I really<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +wish you wasn’t so trifling, Jim Mayberry. I’d +maybe sue you for breach of promise.”</p> + +<p>“Then I’m safe, am I?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“As far as I am concerned you are. I wouldn’t +really marry you on a bet, Jim. Don’t you know +that?”</p> + +<p>He was highly amused. Mabel Skinner’s tart +tongue always delighted him. She lived in one of +the poorer quarters of the town. When he finally +brought the machine into her street it created a sensation. +People left their supper tables to see Mabel +Skinner brought home in the superintendent’s car.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Mab? Broke a leg?” demanded +one lout of a boy, with an impudent grin for Mayberry, +and who was just slipping out of the Skinners’ +gate. This was “Boots” Skinner, next younger of +the clan than Mabel.</p> + +<p>“Both of ’em, or you wouldn’t catch me ruining +my reputation riding home with Mr. Mayberry. +Don’t tell anybody, Boots.”</p> + +<p>The superintendent of the Hapwood-Diller factory +found that it was he who felt some confusion in bringing +Mabel home. The latter took her time in getting +out of the car.</p> + +<p>“I’m awfully much obliged to you, Mr. Mayberry,” +she said, in a shrill and penetrating voice, so that the +interested neighbors could all hear. “I don’t know +what I should have done if you hadn’t brought me. +Walked, I guess. Well! ‘Over the river!’”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>She popped into the house before he could get the +starter into action under the fire of the neighbors’ +chuckles. They all knew Mabel Skinner; and most +of them had sized up Jim Mayberry for what he was, +too.</p> + +<p>Mayberry drove down into Mailsburg’s business +quarter and stopped before the Bellevue Hotel. He +often took his dinner there and spent the evening, as +well, in some upper room where there were shaded +lights, much cigar smoke, the clink of glasses and the +rattle of poker chips.</p> + +<p>The superintendent had been born and brought up +in Mailsburg, as Frank Barton had been; but his +family was now scattered. He and Barton had been +the closest of chums at school. Mayberry owned +quite as bright a mind as the general manager of the +Hapwood-Diller Company; but he lacked the balance +of his friend.</p> + +<p>Had it not been for the inspiration of Barton’s +companionship and example Mayberry would never +have obtained the eminence he had in the factory. +In truth, his old chum had actually boosted Mayberry +into the superintendent’s job after having been +himself elected manager of the concern. Not that +Mayberry was not well fitted for this position. But +he lacked that quality of ambition to have gained +it for himself without Frank Barton’s good offices. +At that, he lacked the grace of gratitude.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>The Bellevue was the gathering place of the sporting +men of the town. When Mayberry came out +from dinner, Mr. Grandon Fuller occupied one of the +easy chairs on the porch. Fuller’s taste for society +was not like that of his wife and daughter. He was +a big, pursy man with a shock of white hair and a +ruddy countenance. He had a hail-fellow-well-met +air for most occasions, and his jovial manner made +him popular with most people. In local politics he +had some prominence.</p> + +<p>“Hey, young man!” he called to Mayberry, “you’ve +no engagement, have you? Smith is getting up a +party for a little game. Will you join us?”</p> + +<p>“Not to-night, Colonel,” returned the superintendent, +giving Fuller a handle to his name that always +delighted the rich man. He had been on the governor’s +staff once. “I am sorry. I have an appointment.”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut! can’t you let the girls alone for one night, +Son?” and Fuller’s laugh was unctuous.</p> + +<p>“’Pon my word it’s business.”</p> + +<p>“Thought nobody had to trouble their heads about +business up at the factory except Barton?”</p> + +<p>“But Barton may not be there always,” laughed +the superintendent, although the suggestion of the +manager’s omnipotence did not please him. Everybody +praised Frank Barton’s business acumen. Mayberry, +being Barton’s close friend, knew just how weak<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +the fellow really was! This was Mayberry’s thought; +but he made no display of this feeling, saying:</p> + +<p>“It really is business, Colonel. I am sorry not +to be able to join you and the other gentlemen. +But we really all have to work up there at the factory. +Barton may get the bulk of the credit. You know +how it is when a fellow once gets into the limelight.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” chuckled Fuller. “But they tell me a lime +never gets into the limelight. Don’t tell me Frank +Barton is to be counted among the citrus fruit.”</p> + +<p>“Never!” responded Mayberry. “But, then, there +are others working for the Hapwood-Diller Company +too who are not lemons. Good-night.”</p> + +<p>He went down the steps whistling cheerfully and +Mr. Fuller looked quizzically after him.</p> + +<p>“Bright young fellow, just the same,” murmured +the man. “Perhaps may be made more useful, even, +than Barton. But I fear neither Helen nor the wife +would stand for <i>him</i> as a dinner guest; whereas, +Barton——”</p> + +<p>These cryptic observations were unheard by Mayberry +of course. And the frown on his brow belied +his cheerful whistle and airy remarks to Mr. Fuller. +He got into his car, started it, and drove away from +the hotel with the secret feeling that he would enjoy +running over a dog.</p> + +<p>He kept on through the old part of Mailsburg and +down past the docks and over the Stone Bridge. The +creek was a wide, oilily flowing stream—save in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> +time of the spring freshets. He took the Creek Road +and rolled easily out of town and along past the farms +and wooded strips which intervened between Mailsburg +and Norville.</p> + +<p>He drove slowly and looked at the illuminated dial +of the clock before him frequently. It was plain +that he had a rendezvous here in the open. Some +one has said: “If you have a secret to tell, select the +middle of a ten-acre lot.” Mayberry’s appointment +suggested secrecy, for he finally stopped near the +bank of the creek with an open, sloping field on the +other hand, and no cover but a rock beside the road.</p> + +<p>There was shadow enough about the rock, however, +to protect the figure of a man on the landward +side. But the scent of his tobacco permeated the air.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Blaisdell?” Jim Mayberry said quietly +and questioningly, having brought his car to a stop +just opposite this rock.</p> + +<p>“Welcome, dear boy,” was the prompt reply. The +waiting man stretched his long limbs and came out +of the shadow, still puffing his pipe, to rest a foot +upon the step of the car. Mayberry lit a cigarette +and pinched out the glowing end of the match before +dropping it. “What’s the news?” asked Blaisdell.</p> + +<p>“Kind of bad—for you and me,” Mayberry admitted.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean? Doesn’t that order go +through?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>“It may not. I’m no intriguer, Blaisdell. I can +keep you informed; but I am not up in diplomacy. +Barton has heard some yarn about you fellows. He +is for turning the order down—flat.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you influence him? I thought you and he +were thicker than the hair on a dog’s neck.”</p> + +<p>“We’ve always been chums,” drawled Mayberry. +“That doesn’t give me any hold over Frank’s processes +of reasoning. And he can talk me off my feet. +I didn’t agree to do the impossible, Blaisdell. If the +order goes through the best I can do is to rush it.”</p> + +<p>“Yet you expect to get your rake-off,” sneered the +other.</p> + +<p>“That’s my legitimate graft. It’s for letting +everything go through smoothly. You know, in my +position, I can favor your company, Blaisdell.”</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t seem that you can—not if this order +clogs the chute. I am frank to tell you, Jim, we’ve +got to get those goods without question or we shall +be in untold trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Ye-as,” drawled the superintendent, “so I inferred. +That is what is bothering Barton. He seems to be +wise to the state of your credit.”</p> + +<p>“He doesn’t <i>know</i> it,” snapped the other. “He +only suspects. Nobody knows it but Billings, Hempstead, +me and—you.”</p> + +<p>“And I’m sitting tight and saying nothing. I want +my rake-off on the order of course—By jinks, I <i>need</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> +it! Money is as scarce with me just now as gold filling +in a hen’s teeth.”</p> + +<p>“Then do something to help us,” urged Blaisdell.</p> + +<p>“I’ll do all I can. If I were in charge—Oh, well! +I <i>could</i> do something in that case.”</p> + +<p>“Say! any chance of that happening?” demanded +the other and with eagerness.</p> + +<p>“I—don’t—know. There may be. Frank has got +the war fever. Fact! Any fellow that got exempted +as easy as he did——”</p> + +<p>“By the way,” asked Blaisdell, “how did you get +past the board?”</p> + +<p>“Conscientious objector,” replied Mayberry glibly. +“Sure! My mother and father were Quakers and I +often attended the Friends’ Meeting House,” and he +laughed.</p> + +<p>“You are a liar, Jim,” said the other frankly. +“The Quakers are putting their young men into the +Red Cross and all such work. That claim don’t go. +I believe it cost you money. Doc Flammer has +bought a new runabout—and it’s a better car than +you drive, Jim. I believe that foxy medico knows +how to feather his nest.”</p> + +<p>“I really have a bad heart,” said the superintendent +of the Hapwood-Diller Company seriously. “Quite +a murmur. You can hear it sometimes without the +stethoscope.”</p> + +<p>“But the doc never advised you to cut out the +tobacco, did he?” drily queried Blaisdell, as Mayberry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +lit another cigarette at the coal of his first. +“Now, see here, to get back to biz: You say Barton +has the fever?”</p> + +<p>“He’s wanted to go all along. You should hear +him talk! He makes me sick!” scoffed the superintendent. +“If he should go I shall step into his shoes +<i>pro tem</i>. He wants to go to the officers’ training camp +at Lake Quehasset. <i>Then</i> I might be able to help +you fellows—and myself—Blaisdell.”</p> + +<p>“You think Barton will immediately turn down +our order? Before he goes away—if he does go?”</p> + +<p>“I believe he has already.” Mayberry gave no +particulars, but he spoke of the letter the manager +of the Hapwood-Diller Company had ordered written +that afternoon. It was not to his advantage to say +anything about Ethel Clayton and the confidence +Barton had in her good sense and ability.</p> + +<p>“Postpone the sending of that letter, Jim,” said +Blaisdell hastily. “It has not left the office yet, +has it?”</p> + +<p>“I do not believe so. It was too late for the last +mail,” Mayberry agreed. But he was puzzled.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what I mean,” Blaisdell said, leaning +nearer to the superintendent. He laid a hand upon +the latter’s shoulder. His lips were close to Mayberry’s +ear. Nobody could have heard then what he +said, not if they had been at Blaisdell’s elbow. And +there was nobody so near. A few minutes later the +superintendent turned his car and started back toward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> +Mailsburg while Blaisdell strolled away in the opposite +direction. Then it was that a cramped figure +rolled out from the shadow on the creek side of the +great rock.</p> + +<p>“Those two chumps purty near made me late +setting my lines,” observed Boots Skinner under his +breath. “The moon’ll be up in a few minutes and +then mebbe I’d git nabbed.</p> + +<p>“Old Man Hammerly says that if I’m caught doing +this ag’in he’ll give me all the laws allows—an’ then +some. The old jackdaw! I bet he never gits the +chance.</p> + +<p>“That’s the way. Ain’t no chance for a poor feller, +jest as dad says. Such rich chaps as them two can +plan to do all the devilment that they want, and nobody +dast touch ’em. But me! I ain’t let to ketch +a mess o’ fish in peace. Huh! Jest the same, me an’ +dad will have a fish-fry for breakfast,” and he grinned +in the darkness, carefully baiting his hooks.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br> + +<small>THE DREAM OF A STAR</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Clayton</span> was a Diller. She often stated +this fact with pride.</p> + +<p>“The Dillers, my dear, are among the very oldest +and the very best families in the country; and when +one has family as every sensible person recognizes, +money is of secondary importance,” Ethel’s mother +insisted over and over, in season and out.</p> + +<p>“All very well, dear,” agreed the girl cheerfully. +“But money is more essential to our daily comfort +than blue blood. I presume I am glad I have Diller +blood in my veins. I am much gladder I have Diller +brains in my head; for they enable me to earn twenty +dollars a week—more than any other girl earns, I +do believe, in Mailsburg.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton, with all her horror of things common, +could not deny that Israel Diller had been the saviour +of the family by his business ability. He went into +trade and he made good in it. By grace of his doing +so, and leaving her a few shares of the Hapwood-Diller +Company—and Grandon Fuller’s wife a good +many—both the Claytons and the Fullers were benefitted. +Indeed, Mrs. Clayton and Ethel lived much +more comfortably in the little cottage at the end of +Burnaby Street by grace of the dividends from those<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> +shares than they had while Mr. Clayton was +alive.</p> + +<p>“But I sometimes wonder,” Mrs. Clayton sighed, +“how it came about that Mehitable Fuller and I +should have been so unevenly treated by Great-uncle +Israel. Mehitable never did a hand’s turn for old +Mr. Diller in her life. While you can remember yourself, +Ethel, although you were but a tiny girl, that the +old gentleman was brought here that time he had +typhoid and he was a care on my hands for six +months.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother!”</p> + +<p>“I’m not begrudging the care,” her mother hastened +to say. “And of course his lawyer afterward brought +me the money for his board—six dollars a week for +twenty-seven weeks. And I signed a paper saying +it was all I could expect. Still—Well! if he had been +alone in his own home and had had to hire a trained +nurse and all that he’d have paid out a lot more money +than he did.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Mother, never mind all that,” Ethel urged.</p> + +<p>“No, I realize it doesn’t sound nice,” Mrs. Clayton +agreed. “But it seems funny. When I see those +Fullers driving around so haughtily, and read about +Mehitable, that I went to school with, and that pug-nosed +girl of hers——”</p> + +<p>“Mercy! don’t let anybody hear you speak of Helen +Fuller’s nose in such terms,” laughed Ethel. “And +Helen is pretty. You’ve got to acknowledge that.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>“Her nose <i>is</i> a pug,” declared Mrs. Clayton. +“That’s got nothing to do with those stocks. Great-uncle +Israel’s will was peculiar. So they all say. No +administrator mentioned. And he died with Gran +Fuller right in the house——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” begged Ethel. “You must not intimate +any wrongdoing, when there can have been no wrongdoing.”</p> + +<p>“What do you know about it? And you but a +chit of a girl at the time!” demanded Mrs. Clayton. +“Anyway, Gran Fuller was there, and he found the +will. Mr. Mestinger, the lawyer, was dead then.”</p> + +<p>“But the witnesses were alive if the lawyer wasn’t. +Of course it was Mr. Diller’s honest will.”</p> + +<p>“And he gave all that lump of money to Mehitable +who never scarcely spoke to him, and only a little, +meaching few stocks of the Hapwood-Diller Company +to me. Oh, well, small favors thankfully received. +The money’s very welcome every quarter.”</p> + +<p>Of course, Ethel was the recipient of a fairly comfortable +salary. But they could not have lived so +nicely as they did upon her weekly stipend only. +Moreover, it was but recently that the girl was able +to earn the amount at present paid her.</p> + +<p>“And there was a time,” pursued Mrs. Clayton on +this particular evening, “when I came near selling +the shares for a song.” She and Ethel were sitting, +after the dinner dishes were cleared up, on the sheltered +porch. “Grandon Fuller made me an offer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +for my stock. That was just before Mr. Barton was +made manager, and people said the company was +going to fail.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Barton has done wonders,” declared the girl +with admiration.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” responded her mother deprecatingly. +“I suppose business just chanced to +change. But it’s lucky we held on to our stock.”</p> + +<p>“It was Mr. Barton who saved us and the rest of +the small stockholders,” the girl said firmly.</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose you must say so. I presume you +feel some gratitude to him for raising your pay. You +never would have got it without his say-so.”</p> + +<p>“I hope I earn it,” Ethel observed with some sharpness. +“I believe I am worthy of my wages, just as +Mr. Barton is worthy of the credit of having put the +Hapwood-Diller Company on its feet.”</p> + +<p>“Still talking shop?” asked the cheerful voice of +Benway Chase. He had come up the walk without +the widow and her daughter hearing him till he spoke.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ethel is singing the praises of that wonderful +Mr. Barton, as usual,” her mother said.</p> + +<p>“I’ll join in,” Ben Chase chuckled, and he sat down +on the step of the porch to fill and light his pipe. +“We’ve got to hand it to Mr. Barton, Mrs. Clayton. +He did another good deed to-day. Promised to take +me into the offices.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ben!” exclaimed the girl in sheer delight. +“Did you speak to him as I advised you?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>“Certainly did. I got tired of waiting on the pleasure +of those other people who had promised me a job. +I have spent every cent we can afford getting a business +course and just because I am left-handed the +business men I have seen hem and haw over hiring +me—or even giving me a chance to show them I am +as quick as a fellow with two hands.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, Bennie, don’t talk in that way,” murmured +Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>“Nobody wants a fellow with one hand—not +really!” exclaimed the young man with vigor. “They +won’t take me in the army—though a fellow could +work a machine gun very well with one paw,” and +he laughed without managing to get much mirth +into the sound.</p> + +<p>“But your Mr. Barton is different,” he added, +turning to Ethel. “I saw him to-day at lunch hour—while +you were out, Ethel. He never said a word +about my bum wing. By the way, did you know +he was going away?”</p> + +<p>“Who’s going away?” asked Mrs. Clayton, scenting +gossip.</p> + +<p>“Not Mr. Barton?” cried her daughter quickly.</p> + +<p>“Spoke as though he expected to be absent from +the offices in the near future. Said you and that +Jim Mayberry would break me in all right. What +did he mean if it wasn’t that he expected to be absent?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>The girl looked at him breathlessly and her face +was actually pale. Mrs. Clayton drawled:</p> + +<p>“I suppose he must mean to take a vacation.”</p> + +<p>“That’s not it, is it?” Benway Chase asked Ethel, +realizing that she was deeply moved.</p> + +<p>“It’s the war!” gasped the girl.</p> + +<p>“The war?” rejoined her mother. “What’s that +to do with Mr. Barton? He’s exempt, isn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“He will enlist. I knew he would!” The girl’s +hands were clasped in real agony and her voice showed +imminent tears. “Oh, I knew he would!”</p> + +<p>“Not really?” exclaimed Benway, forgetting to +keep his pipe alight. “Mr. Barton can’t be spared, +can he?”</p> + +<p>“I suspected all along how he felt about it,” moaned +the girl. “Ever since April when war was declared—even +before.”</p> + +<p>“But, goodness! there are so many other men to +go,” cried her mother. “And you were just saying +that he was necessary to the well-being of the Hapwood-Diller +Company, Ethel. Surely he will not +desert us.”</p> + +<p>“The business is in very good shape again—thanks +to him,” Ethel answered, trying to recover her composure. +“I suppose he feels that now, at least, he +can go to the officers’ training camp. And if we get +along all right I just know he will go to France.”</p> + +<p>Benway whistled—low and thoughtfully. “He’s +that kind of a chap, I guess,” he observed. “Goodness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> +knows, this town is full of those who think +differently. The boards had the hardest time getting +their full quota for this first draft. There’s +got to be a general awakening before the second call +comes——”</p> + +<p>“But war is dreadful!” cried Mrs. Clayton.</p> + +<p>“It must be. But we haven’t come to a realization +of it yet or we’d all be glad to try to help keep it in +Europe, instead of letting it dribble over here after +militarism has ruined the less prepared countries +over there. This war is going to mean a good deal. +The government is awfully particular about the +men they take right now; but they won’t be so particular +before it is all over.</p> + +<p>“Why!” cried the young fellow with a break in his +voice that showed a deeper emotion, “even the Red +Cross or the Y. M. C. A. won’t accept for service a +fellow with a single solitary thing the matter with +him!”</p> + +<p>Ethel, who had slipped down into a seat on the +step beside him, suddenly patted his shoulder in a +sisterly way. She knew that he had tried to serve +his country under the banner of the Cross of Peace +and had been refused because of his withered arm.</p> + +<p>“Heigho!” added Benway, shrugging his shoulders +and swallowing his emotion, “that’s neither here nor +there. Mr. Barton spoke as though he expected to +leave soon, anyway. I expect Ethel, here, will pretty +near be boss of those offices while he is gone. How<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +about it, Ethel? Going to be a hard taskmaster to +yours truly?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid if Mr. Barton goes that my influence +there will be curbed rather than increased,” the girl +said with gravity.</p> + +<p>“No!”</p> + +<p>“Naturally Mr. Mayberry will be boss. Mr. Mayberry +does not consider me as capable as does Mr. +Barton.”</p> + +<p>“Jim Mayberry!” exclaimed Ben. “He’s dead in +love with you, they say.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s head came up and she turned a haughty +look upon her friend.</p> + +<p>“Do you consider that complimentary to me?” +she demanded.</p> + +<p>“No. But complimentary to his good sense,” +returned Benway. “I don’t know much about Mayberry; +only that he hangs about the Bellevue too +much.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve said it all,” Ethel declared, with less +sternness. “I do not like Mr. Mayberry.”</p> + +<p>“All right. I shan’t like him, either, then,” said +Benway cheerfully. “But, goodness, girl! you can’t +blame men for falling in love with you. I wonder +the whole town doesn’t tail along after you when you +walk down the street.”</p> + +<p>She laughed at him then—and with him.</p> + +<p>“There is one thing about your compliments, +Ben,” she said. “They may lack grace; but they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> +are unmistakable. Ridiculous! There are hundreds +of girls in Mailsburg better looking than I am.”</p> + +<p>“Now, did I say anything about looks?” he asked +her wickedly. “It’s your sweet disposition that +makes you so many friends.”</p> + +<p>“Like Jim Mayberry, I suppose?” she said in some +disgust.</p> + +<p>They continued to wrangle in a friendly way. Mrs. +Clayton, frankly yawning, bade them good-night. +The moment her mother withdrew Ethel’s manner +changed. She removed herself a little from Benway’s +vicinity and her witticisms ceased.</p> + +<p>“I believe I shall retire early myself, Ben,” she +said. “This has been a trying day. I—I shall be +glad to have you in the offices with us.”</p> + +<p>“Shall you?” There was something in his tone that +increased her seriousness.</p> + +<p>“If I can do anything there to help you, let me do +it,” she said earnestly. “You know we have always +been such chums, Ben.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t we?” Again the disturbing accent. She +started to rise. He caught her hand. “Wait,” he +said. “Let me say a little something to you, Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“Ben! Ben! Had you better? You know——”</p> + +<p>“I know—everything you can tell me,” he interrupted +bitterly. “I know I am only half a man. A +fellow shy a wing hasn’t much chance in this world.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> +I ought to know it after all my experience. Especially +as the folks have no money to back me. But +I have a whole brain——”</p> + +<p>“I’ve always told you that, Ben,” she hastened to +say. “A perfectly good brain. I would not harp +so much on that withered arm.”</p> + +<p>“No, perhaps you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t unless +the old arm happened to be hitched to your shoulder, +as it is to mine. No, it is easy enough to say to a +cripple, ‘Forget it.’ Wait till you try it yourself! +Though, Heaven forbid! I hope you will never suffer +such a handicap, Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Benway!”</p> + +<p>“Now, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Ethel,” +he returned, and patted her hand. “Fact is, I feel +rather toppy to-night myself. I know that Mr. Barton +is taking me on for just what he thinks is in me, +and no more. He must think that a withered arm +will not make me less useful around the offices of the +Hapwood-Diller Company. Influence is not getting +me this footing.</p> + +<p>“And he was kind enough to say,” went on the boy, +“that he saw no reason why I should not rise there +as he had risen. He told me how he began in one +of the shops and worked up. Of course, I am not +beginning just in that way; but he says that a practical +knowledge of the mechanical end of the business +is not absolutely necessary to advancement.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>“If I make good, Ethel—if I prove that the stuff +is in me to get up in the business world, after all——”</p> + +<p>“Of all your friends I shall be the one who will +be the most delighted, Ben,” she interrupted, rising +now with finality. “Don’t forget that I have always +said it was in you to make something of yourself. +Even if your parents could not afford to send you +to college, I know—absolutely know—you will make +your mark.”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” he said, rather piqued that she had +not let him finish. She stood above him now, looking +down.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, Benway. I suppose you will come +to the offices on Monday?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ll see you then, Ethel, every day,” he said +wistfully.</p> + +<p>“Good-night,” she repeated and went quickly +within. Once inside the screen door she watched his +shadowy figure down the path. “‘No influence’?” +she murmured. “He does not suspect how I fairly +had to beg Mr. Barton to give him a chance! Poor +Benway! Poor, poor boy!”</p> + +<p>The girl went on to her bedroom. She stood a +moment in the darkness.</p> + +<p>“Frank Barton going—leaving—” she gasped. “Oh, +why can’t he see? Why can’t he see?” she added, +moaning.</p> + +<p>Then she began her preparations for bed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>Benway Chase crossed the road and entered the +field that divided his own home from the end of Burnaby +Street. This was a surburban locality. There +was the fine smell of new-mown hay in his nostrils. +Half way across the field he stumbled upon a cock +of hay that had been thrown up for the night, and +he fell upon it, rolling upon his back luxuriously and +gazing back.</p> + +<p>There was a light in a certain window of the Clayton +Cottage. He had watched it many a night, for +he knew that it was the window of Ethel’s room. +Above the rooftree hung a brilliant star. He had +watched that, too, often and again. And when the +light in Ethel’s room was snuffed out he fixed his +eyes on the star and dreamed.</p> + +<p>It was only a boy’s dream at best. It was a foolish +dream, perhaps. But Benway Chase often +dreamed it.</p> + +<p>He was fully a year older than Ethel Clayton; +but sometimes she made him feel very much younger +than she. Dreamer by nature, he; and she one of +those practical souls that chafe in the bodies of +women. At least, they chafe where women’s growth +is hampered. But Ethel was numbered of the emancipated. +She was a business woman. Moreover, +she was a successful business woman.</p> + +<p>As she had said, no girl in Mailsburg in all probability +earned a larger wage than she did. She had a +grasp upon the details of the business of the Hapwood-Diller<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> +Company that fitted her without question +for a position as important as that of Jim Mayberry +for instance. Indeed, she was better informed +and more capable than even Frank Barton realized.</p> + +<p>The manager merely found her surprisingly helpful +on occasion. He respected her; he admired her good +business sense displayed at these times. Ethel Clayton +did not wish to be admired by the manager for +any such reason.</p> + +<p>Perhaps hers, too, was a dream of a star.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br> + +<small>TWO GOOD-BYES</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">After</span> the porter, who dusted and removed the +waste paper, Mabel Skinner was the first of the office +force to arrive at the Hapwood-Diller Company the +next morning.</p> + +<p>Her startled face was preternaturally grave on this +occasion. Before she even removed her hat and the +tight little jacket she wore, the girl went to the mail +basket on Ethel Clayton’s desk, dumped the outgoing +letters on its flat surface, and ran through them +quickly, scrutinizing each address. She did this +twice and then puzzlement, as well as gravity, showed +in her sharp features. She stacked the letters slowly +again in the basket, deep in thought.</p> + +<p>Then she went to the letter files. She found under +the B heading a quantity of correspondence relating +to the Bogata Company of Norville. But there was +nothing of recent date. It seemed no letter had been +written the day before by the Hapwood-Diller Company +to the Bogata people.</p> + +<p>“Well,” the girl sighed, “I know Boots is an awful +liar. But this time he fooled me. Guess I’ll keep +my nose out of what don’t concern me. But that +Boots!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>And that evening she gave the recreant Boots a +most decisive thrashing out behind the barn. For +any older Skinner that could not trounce a younger +Skinner, male or female, was not worthy of the clan.</p> + +<p>Mabel’s appearance at her desk when the rest of +the office force arrived caused much comment.</p> + +<p>“Life is short and time is fleeting,” said Sydney, +the bookkeeper. “We are warned of the Great +Change to come. Little Skinner is here on time and +at work.”</p> + +<p>“That happens three days before you die, Syd,” +responded Mabel sepulchrally, and made no further +explanation, not even to Ethel.</p> + +<p>Ethel went about her work with some feeling of +depression. Barton had said nothing directly to her +about going away. Indeed, he was not likely to take +Ethel Clayton into his confidence in private matters. +Yet she understood now, from several things he had +been doing of late, that he had it in mind to absent +himself from the offices.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry was in conference with the general +manager on more than one occasion during the next +few days. Ethel could only be thankful that the +superintendent seemed to have too much on his +mind to bother her. He did not even mention her +refusal to ride with him in his car. But the girl +thought more than once of the possibility of Mayberry’s +becoming objectionable when Barton was +gone and he, the superintendent, had charge of affairs.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>On Monday Benway Chase came into the offices. +Ethel had paved the way for his reception by +her associates, and Benway was made to feel +welcome at once. Only Mayberry seemed surprised +to see him.</p> + +<p>“Why, say!” drawled the superintendent, “what +does Barton expect to make of <i>you</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I’m after your job, Mr. Mayberry,” responded +Benway, smiling into the rather sneering face of the +older man. “You don’t mind, do you?”</p> + +<p>“Not if you can cop it,” said the other. “But it +takes a two-fisted man to handle some of the huskies +we’ve got in the shops. Don’t forget that.”</p> + +<p>The intimation was brutal, but the boy with the +withered arm only paled a little about the lips.</p> + +<p>“You know,” he said coolly, “we left-handed chaps +have all the luck. Ask any ball fan.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry laughed shortly and passed on. Ethel +was particularly kind to Benway for the rest of that +day, and Mabel Skinner, who also had heard the +superintendent, stuck out her tongue at his retreating +figure.</p> + +<p>“He’s such a nasty thing!” she whispered to Ethel. +“I wish his old flivver would try to climb a telegraph +pole with him—or go into the ditch!”</p> + +<p>For Skinner was a strong partisan of Ethel’s. +Her friends were Skinner’s friends and her enemies +Skinner’s particular foes. Besides, the younger girl<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +had at once taken a fancy to Benway Chase. In +looks alone the young fellow had the advantage of +any man Mabel Skinner had ever seen before—not +barring the general manager, whom she worshipped +as a kind of god.</p> + +<p>A smile from Benway Chase would turn almost +any girl’s head. He had the darlingest curls! His +complexion was finer and clearer than any girl’s +Skinner knew. There were shades of brown and +red in his cheeks that reminded her of a ripe russet +apple.</p> + +<p>“My!” she whispered to herself, her china-blue eyes +staring from her head more staringly than usual, +“wouldn’t I just like to put my two hands into +his hair and pull it—ever so gently? And his eyes +are just as lovely as our setter-pup’s. Oh, my! +And of course he’s set his heart on Ethel!”</p> + +<p>She was not jealous of Ethel. Skinner was much +too modest to feel such an emotion for one whom +she so much admired. She considered Benway Chase +as far above her as the moon and stars. She thought +them beautiful in much the same way as she admired +Benway.</p> + +<p>In the middle of that week Ethel was called into +the manager’s office at an unusual hour—not long +before closing time. He usually dictated his letters +in the morning. But she carried her notebook and +pencil when she answered the summons.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>“No letters, Miss Clayton,” Barton said, smiling +and wheeling sideways in his chair to face her. “Sit +down. This is a business conference——”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Mr. Mayberry——”</p> + +<p>“I’ve talked to Jim,” said Barton quickly. “I’ve +been hammering things into him this fortnight, off +and on. He has finally got to the point where he +admits he may be able to swing things here for a bit +while I run away.”</p> + +<p>Ethel flashed him a glance that he could not help +but note. He raised an admonishing hand.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think I am running away from duty, Miss +Clayton. I believe we are in such shape now—the +Hapwood-Diller Company, I mean—that the business +will run smoothly under the guidance of Mr. +Mayberry—and you. I am banking a good deal on +you, Miss Clayton,” his kindly smile again lighting +up his face.</p> + +<p>“On me, Mr. Barton?” she hesitated.</p> + +<p>“You are such a perfectly capable person, Miss +Clayton,” he said. “I believe you have a better +grasp on details here than almost anybody else. Of +course, Mr. Mayberry and I ought to know fully +as much as you do; but the other day you proved +that we did not,” and he laughed. “That Bogata +matter, you remember. We had overlooked the +very point which we should have remembered. You +did not overlook it. Therefore——You see?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>“That is exactly what I mean. Jim is all right. +He has a grasp of the mechanical part of the business. +But you must run the office end, more or +less——”</p> + +<p>“But, Mr. Barton! you are not going to remain +away for long, are you?” she interposed.</p> + +<p>“I cannot say, Miss Clayton,” he returned gravely. +“We none of us know what this war may amount to. +I only know that I can be of some help if the war +continues; and with my experience in the Guard I +should be preparing to give my country all the help +in my power if I am called on. I am leaving for the +training camp at Lake Quehasset this evening.”</p> + +<p>She could not suppress a murmur, and the pallor +of her cheek was marked, but he noticed neither.</p> + +<p>“The exemption board allowed my claim of business +need. But I am promised to the service if the +business here can get along without me. The time +has now come to try it,” and he laughed a little +whimsically. “You know, a dead man is seldom +missed, no matter how important his place in life +seems to be. After a little somebody is found to +fill his shoes. I fancy it will not be so hard, Miss +Clayton, to fill mine.</p> + +<p>“I am depending on Mr. Mayberry and you, Miss +Clayton, to keep the stockholders of the company +satisfied that I can be spared. We have some months’ +training in camp in any case. I have felt the call +from ‘over there’ for a long time. I own frankly,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +he added, his voice vibrant with emotion, “that had +I been free, I should not have waited for our Government +to declare war before getting into the scrimmage.</p> + +<p>“But never mind that! I was held here. You +know something of the circumstances we faced two +years ago when I took hold. Now we seem to have +got out of the mire. We’re standing on firm ground. +With ordinary care everything should go smoothly +with the Hapwood-Diller Company. Can I depend +on you to do your part, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, Mr. Barton! I will! I will!” cried the girl +with clasped hands, but looking away from him.</p> + +<p>“Fine! Help Mr. Mayberry all you can. He’s rather +brusk, perhaps, but he knows the business. Still——</p> + +<p>“I’ve one favor to ask of you, Miss Clayton. It is +important, and it is particular. I want you to write +to me.”</p> + +<p>She looked at him then. But there was nothing +in his serious face to warrant the slight flush that +came into her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to have you write me about once a week. +Consult nobody as to what you write, but just detail +as briefly as you please matters as they occur—business +matters and whatever you may think will give +me a correct impression of the situation of affairs +in the factory and the office.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t the least idea,” he added, once again +smiling, “that things will not run along all right.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> +But I shall be anxious—nervous, if you will. Mayberry +will write, of course. But you will look on +things with quite different eyes from the way he will +look at them. In the first place, you are a woman +and you have a different mental slant upon every +occurrence from that of a man, it seems to me. I +am sure anything you may have to report will be +illuminating.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Barton.”</p> + +<p>“Will you do it, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“Am I to understand I am to render a weekly report +and keep the matter secret from everybody—even +from Mr. Mayberry?”</p> + +<p>“I am exacting no spy-duty from you!” he said +hastily. “That is not my meaning.”</p> + +<p>“I understand you perfectly, I think,” Ethel said +gently. “You undoubtedly will be anxious.”</p> + +<p>“But I want the truth—the exact truth, Miss +Clayton,” Barton went on.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand that too,” she replied.</p> + +<p>They arose at the same moment and Frank Barton +put out his hand. “You will be of great help to me, +I am sure, Miss Clayton,” he said, her hand lost for +a moment in the embrace of his larger palm. “You +have been of sure and practical assistance to me on +many occasions. I know you will be of equal aid +to Mayberry. Now, good-bye, Miss Clayton. I +hope I shall not add much to your burdens.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>“Oh, Mr. Barton! I am glad to do anything within +reason. I feel that it is but a small thing I do compared +with what you must face.”</p> + +<p>At that he flushed suddenly, and like a boy. “Oh +that!” he murmured. “My duty has held me here. +Now duty calls me elsewhere. Duty is our master, +Miss Clayton. Good-bye.”</p> + +<p>“And—I hope you—will return to us safely,” she +said, her eyes filling with tears.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Miss Clayton. I hope to come back +all right. I believe I shall,” he said cheerfully, and +sat down immediately to sort some papers upon his +desk. He did not look again in her direction as she +went out of the private office.</p> + +<p>He heard the raucous note of an automobile horn +a little later. He stacked the documents together +and stuck them in their proper pigeonhole. He was +leaving his desk open for Jim Mayberry to use if he +wished.</p> + +<p>Stepping quickly to the window Barton saw the +Fuller car stopping at the curb. Helen was driving, +and was alone. He took down his hat and dust-coat +and passed rapidly through the office. But at the +outer door he stopped a moment and looked back. +He faced the entire office force from that position.</p> + +<p>“Be good children till I return—all of you,” he +said, laughing. “I am banking heavy on you, Sydney. +Good-bye, all. I want to hear good reports +of you while I am away.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>Mayberry was to meet him later and go to the train +with him. But Helen Fuller had come to take him +for a spin and for a little talk on this, his last day in +town. Somehow, he had not been invited to dinner +as she suggested. Was it because Grandon Fuller +after all considered the general manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company of less importance to his +schemes, now that he was going away?</p> + +<p>“Dear <i>me</i>, Mr. Barton,” sighed Helen, dexterously +turning the car, “my conscience <i>condemns</i> me.”</p> + +<p>“Why so?”</p> + +<p>“I fear something I may have said is sending you +off like this—so <i>suddenly</i>—and to train for the army. +Dear me! suppose you should be killed or wounded?”</p> + +<p>“Scarcely likely in the training camp,” he returned, +happy in the concern the girl seemed to show.</p> + +<p>“Oh, but <i>afterward</i>! For I know you will go over +there, Mr. Barton. I feel it! And if anything <i>I</i> +have said——”</p> + +<p>“I am sure,” he told her quietly, “that you have +said nothing to me or to any of your gentlemen +acquaintances regarding our duty in this trying time +that was not perfectly justified, Miss Fuller.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do you <i>think</i> so?” she cried. “Do you <i>know</i>, +Mr. Barton, I am greatly tempted to go to France +<i>myself</i>. Some girls I know have already gone. You +know, really, it puts one on the <i>qui vive</i> to hear so +much about it—and—and all that,” she added rather +vaguely.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>He was so much in earnest himself, he felt so +strongly the exaltation of his decision, that he did +not notice the futility of her speech. And then Helen +Fuller was strikingly, if a little flamboyantly, pretty. +He nodded with pursed lips.</p> + +<p>“It’s a job we all have to decide for ourselves. I +can imagine how you feel, Miss Fuller. As for myself, +I’ve got to be in it!”</p> + +<p>“It’s too bad,” she drawled, “that you couldn’t +influence Morry Copley to go with you.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Mr. Copley now will have to decide for +himself, won’t he?”</p> + +<p>She laughed. “It seems he has allowed Mrs. Copley +to decide for him,” she said.</p> + +<p>Somehow their conversation did not take that personal +tinge which Helen desired. To tell the truth, +a girl cannot give her escort just the right feeling of +intimacy when both her eyes and her hands are engaged +in guiding a motor-car. Helen finally dropped +Barton at his lodgings in time for dinner, and their +good-bye was much more casual than she had intended +it should be.</p> + +<p>“But I shall go over to the camp to see you,” she +promised, as she wheeled away from the curb. “Best +of luck!”</p> + +<p>The man stood bareheaded till the girl had turned +the corner. But that night when he closed his +eyes, in his Pullman berth, it was the face of another +girl, with brown eyes tear-filled, that rose to his +vision and dissolved only when he sank to sleep.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br> + +<small>LEADING UP TO A CLIMAX</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">For</span> Ethel Clayton the days that immediately followed +the departure of the manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company were merely busy days. Positively +nothing happened. The particular work that came +to her was not different from that which had been +her portion for some months; only in her oversight +of things in general (and that oversight secretive) was +she differently engaged.</p> + +<p>She took her book and pencil into the private office +each morning at the usual hour and took dictation +from Jim Mayberry.</p> + +<p>Mayberry was not the clear-headed, forceful +thinker that Barton was. But his letters were brief +and to the point nevertheless; he was not a numbskull. +Nor did he lack a grasp of business details +quite necessary to the carrying on of the affairs of +the big concern. He worked faithfully, seemed to +neglect nothing; and though he did not admit it, +Ethel felt sure he was thankful to her when she +smoothed the crudeness of his English, or brought +out more clearly the points he desired to make in +his correspondence.</p> + +<p>To her satisfaction he did not at first show those +amorous proclivities which had so annoyed her in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> +the past. His thoughts seemed to be centered on +the business of trying to fill both Barton’s and his +own jobs. Or was it that Jim Mayberry had something +on his mind other than the business affairs of +the Hapwood-Diller Company to trouble him?</p> + +<p>The office force, of course, buzzed at first because +of the departure of Mr. Barton. But every individual +was on his best behavior. They had all liked +the general manager; and, perhaps, they had visions +of his returning suddenly and taking them to task +for sins of both omission and commission.</p> + +<p>Mayberry left the people in the outer office strictly +and entirely alone; even Sydney came to Ethel at +times for advice, or to report some slight matter +which needed to be “put up to the boss.” It had +been so before Barton went away, although the girl +had not then remarked it. She was still “the buffer” +between the small annoyances of the office and the +man at the head of affairs.</p> + +<p>Grandon Fuller came in one day and had a somewhat +extended conference with the manager <i>pro tem</i>. +Ethel noted that the holder of so large a block of the +company’s stock seemed to be very friendly with +Mayberry, whereas when Mr. Macon Hammerly +came in, as was his wont, he always timed his calls +so as to miss Mayberry. The shrewd old grain dealer +was frank to say that he did not like the present head +of the Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>“Jim always looked to me like a well-fed fox,” +grumbled Hammerly to Ethel. “I always wonder +who’s pullet he’s just swallowed.”</p> + +<p>Although Mayberry did not greatly disturb Ethel’s +quiet pool of existence, Benway Chase seemed to have +been an agitating pebble flung into it. Her old +friend took hold of his duties with all the energy +and keenness of perception that she knew he would +display, once he was given a chance. Sydney and +the rest of the office force liked him immensely.</p> + +<p>On her own part, however, Ethel found him trying. +He was promptly at her gate every morning +to accompany her to work; and at night he escorted +her home. It had been like that when they went +to school together. But Ethel felt altogether different +about it now. She did not like to be made conspicuous +or to be appropriated in such a fashion. +And when Benway undertook to go to lunch with +her, she put her foot down firmly.</p> + +<p>Yet, she could not hurt his feelings. Because of +his affliction she had been all her life striving to be +particularly kind to Benway. From her earliest +remembrance, when she had felt spasms of pity and +sympathy for her little playmate and had impulsively +run to him to pat his cheek and say, “Poor, poor +Bennie!” to this very chance she had begged for him +with the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company, +Ethel Clayton had mothered the boy. Naturally<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> +and quite unconsciously he took advantage of her +kindness.</p> + +<p>She shrank from having the rest of the office force +suspect any tender relation between herself and the +boy. “Boy” was of course the term in which she +thought of him. And when he undertook to time his +absence from the office so as to accompany her to the +restaurant which she usually patronized, she had to +put a stop to that. She quietly inaugurated a system +of “taking turn about” for lunch hour which pretty +well put it out of Benway’s power to leave at the +same time she did.</p> + +<p>Likewise, she went farther away, to the Orleans +Tea Room, instead of to the place at which it was +the custom of most of the Hapwood-Diller office +force to have their midday meal. The tea room was +a more expensive place and was largely patronized by +“up town” folk; and it was because of this change +in her habits that Ethel chanced to learn, not two +weeks after the manager’s departure for the training +camp, something that she thought really did not +concern her, but which interested her immensely, +as it was connected with Frank Barton.</p> + +<p>She saw one noon a gaily, though beautifully, +dressed and unmistakable figure entering the tea +room ahead of her—that of Helen Fuller. Her escort +was Morrison Copley—one of those men whose names +made Ethel’s lips involuntarily curl. And yet, as far<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> +as Ethel Clayton knew, there was nothing bad about +Morry Copley.</p> + +<p>She considered it a misfortune that the only empty +table should be next the one occupied by those two +from what Macon Hammerly called “the swagger +part of town.” Miss Fuller looked the employee +of the Hapwood-Diller Company over with a cold +disdain which might have hurt cruelly a supersensitive +soul. Ethel’s was too well balanced a nature to be +disturbed by the ill breeding of the other girl.</p> + +<p>“You boys are going to be <i>terribly</i> put to it for +styles this fall,” Helen was drawling, her elbows on +the table and her hands cupped to hold her pretty +chin. Somebody had told her that the pose became +her. “Everything offered for masculine wear will +have a military cut.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why we’re to be put to it,” returned +Morry, gazing at the girl before him with doglike +devotion. “Belted things always did look well on +me, you know, Nell. I’m slim waisted.”</p> + +<p>“Slim in every way, Morry,” the girl said laughing. +“Morrison Copley, S. S. quite fits you. Slim slacker. +My! <i>I’d</i> be ashamed if <i>I</i> were a man——”</p> + +<p>“Plenty of fellows are going. Those that like +army life and—and all that,” complained Morry. +“I don’t see why you should hound me, all the time, +Nell. And mothaw really would make an awful +row if I said I wanted to go.”</p> + +<p>“If you even <i>said</i> so, Morry?” she scoffed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>“Say, aren’t you satisfied?” demanded the young +man with more energy than usual. “You say you +made Frank Barton go to camp. How many scalps +do you want to hang in your wigwam?”</p> + +<p>“Your scalp, as you call it, would look pretty good +to me,” she laughed. “I want to send all the fellows +I can. Bradley’s half promised. He was in the +Guard for two years, but got out because he was too +lazy to drill, I suppose,” Miss Fuller said.</p> + +<p>“Pooh, they’re only stalling,” grumbled Morry. +“You know just about how far Brad will get at that +training camp. And Barton’s only going for a show. +They’ll never get to France, any of them.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t <i>you</i> try it, then? If there’s no danger, +that should suit <i>you</i>, Morry!”</p> + +<p>“I tell you what!” exclaimed the young man indignantly +and forgetting his drawl, “if I go into this +thing I’ll go the whole figure, don’t forget that! If +other fellows go to France I shall go. I won’t hunt +me a soft job here where I can wear a uniform and +never smell powder.”</p> + +<p>Helen Fuller looked at him and thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“I wonder, Morry, if you really <i>would</i>,” she finally +said.</p> + +<p>Ethel could not help hearing this. Indeed, the +heedlessness with which the two conversed on their +private affairs in public made it imperative that all +within earshot should know what they were talking +about.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>Slight as was Ethel’s interest in the two, and in +their affairs, one point did not escape her. It could +not fail to impress the girl’s mind and linger in her +thoughts.</p> + +<p>Had Frank Barton gone to the training camp because +of the bite of Helen Fuller’s tart tongue? Miss +Fuller was taking much commendation for inspiring +the manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company with +patriotism. Was Barton’s brand of patriotism of +that character? How much influence did the girl +really have over him?</p> + +<p>These questions could not be stilled in Ethel’s +mind. She reverted to them time and again. Helen’s +claim that her influence drove her young men friends +to patriotic service seemed to be believed by other +people. Somebody told Ethel on Sunday at church +that Charlie Bradley and young Copley had both +gone to the officers’ camp.</p> + +<p>“Of course, it’s more of a lark than anything else +for most of those who go,” said the person who told +Ethel. “Fancy Morry Copley trying to give orders +in that squeaky voice of his!”</p> + +<p>Ethel’s letters to Barton were strictly business, +without being coldly formal. She allowed them to +sound a note of cool friendliness in the beginning and +at the close but nothing deeper. An expression of +hope for his good health was as warm a phrase as +entered into them. His polite, brief acknowledgments, +addressed to her home, showed that he considered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +their correspondence nothing more than a +business arrangement.</p> + +<p>She realized that she was by no means the only +person in Mailsburg interested in the absent ones +in camp and barracks. The town was beginning to +wake up to the exigencies of the war. The ministers +prayed for the boys on Sunday, and every social and +charitable organization in Mailsburg began to talk +of work for the soldiers at least, whether or not any +of them really did much at first.</p> + +<p>At this time in her heart Ethel hated the idea of +war so desperately that the many activities connected +with the draft and the going away and the war itself +seemed to her mind both futile and non-beneficial. +If those young men really got as far as France, and +into the trenches, they would be killed. They were +merely “cannon fodder” in that case. And if they +did not go—if the war ended, as some people said it +would, before many of them got over there—then all +this talk and planning was so much wasted breath +and time and money.</p> + +<p>It was a fact that, at this particular time, Ethel +Clayton had little interest save in her work and in +the affairs of the Hapwood-Diller Company—particularly +in Frank Barton’s absence from his post +and how it might affect the concern for which they +both worked.</p> + +<p>Just as she felt that there were plenty of other men +to go to the war and that Barton might be spared,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +so she felt that there were already too many women, +both foolish and wise, giving their time and thought +to war work. The local papers began to be full of +news of the various activities of the several organizations +in this connection. In addition some of those +desirous of notoriety were getting a heap of free advertising.</p> + +<p>“I declare!” said Mrs. Clayton, busily clicking her +knitting needles, “the <i>Clarion</i> toots a loud note almost +every day for that girl of Mehitable Fuller’s. +She’s first into one thing and then another—like a +spoiled kitten. And all this folderol about the war +seems to give her more of a chance than ever to show +off.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” said Ethel, thoughtfully, “if we ought +not to think more about it than we do, Mother? I +sit here with my hands idle in the evening. I wonder +if all this knitting I see going on hasn’t a basis of +honest endeavor in it, after all?”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” said her mother.</p> + +<p>“I know it looks silly. Looks like a fad. One of +the girls in the office brings her knitting bag. She’s +at the switchboard and has more or less idle time. +Instead of reading silly love stories as she used, she +knits.”</p> + +<p>“What does she knit?”</p> + +<p>“Why, she says she hopes it will turn out to be a +sweater when she gets it done; and if it is good enough<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +she will give it to the Red Cross,” and Ethel laughed +gently.</p> + +<p>“Humph!” mumbled Mrs. Clayton. “I wonder if +she has a good pattern?”</p> + +<p>Thus grew the stirrings of general interest in Mailsburg +in the war and in our preparations for entering +it. Ethel realized amid her manifold office duties +that the undercurrent of their life was becoming more +strongly patriotic.</p> + +<p>It was learned that at least one Mailsburg boy was +already at the front. It was true he had disappeared +from town some years before, and under a cloud; but +his mother had always known where he was.</p> + +<p>Now the <i>Clarion</i> came out with a full page on Sunday, +“Mailsburg’s First Boy in France.” Sergeant +Willy O’Rourke of General Pershing’s forces had sent +his mother several postal cards from “over there.” +Here they were reproduced, with a tintype of the +sergeant and a sympathetic wash-drawing of Mrs. +O’Rourke—a little old woman living down by the +docks who said to the reporter:</p> + +<p>“Shure an’ th’ O’Rourkes was all fighters. ’Tis no +wonder Willy got over there first. Them Garmans’ll +have their own troubles now.”</p> + +<p>And yet there was something in it that made the +reader choke up. Macon Hammerly had his brusk +comment to make:</p> + +<p>“It may be that Bill O’Rourke left town just ahead +of the constable. I remember well the red-headed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> +gossoon. He wasn’t a mite better than this Boots +Skinner is now. But, by the holy poker! he’s a <i>man</i>. +There’s nothing soft and sissified about Bill. If +Bill dies for his country he’ll be doing something better +than a whole lot of these trifling, dawdling fellows +will ever arrive at.”</p> + +<p>If he dies for his country! That might be Frank +Barton’s fate if he went “over there.” The thought +more than once brought Ethel Clayton upright in +bed at night. It sometimes wet her pillow with tears. +Yet, if it was the truth that Helen Fuller’s influence +had urged Barton away to the wars, Ethel was jealous +of the other girl for it, and she realized the fact with +shame.</p> + +<p>Affairs in the Hapwood-Diller Company offices +continued much as usual for several weeks. The +directors seemed to think Jim Mayberry a satisfactory +substitute manager. Having the details of the business +at her finger tips as she had, Ethel was quite +sure that the superintendent was attending to his +additional duties in an exemplary manner.</p> + +<p>Ethel checked up much of the work of the other +members of the office staff, especially in the correspondence +end of the business, and it was in looking +over a schedule of stock to be ordered she made a +discovery that puzzled her.</p> + +<p>Mayberry had now, of course, the ordering of supplies +of all kinds; but there was little in the manufacturing +line that Ethel Clayton did not know about.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> +Here were certain grades of stock which she had no +idea were called for by any order then on the factory’s +books already contracted for.</p> + +<p>Had Mr. Barton been doing the ordering she would +have felt quite free to hold up the schedule until she +could speak to him about it. But she feared Mayberry +might be touchy in any such matter. He was +jealous of his rights, and she hesitated to give him a +chance to say she was overstepping the borders of +her field of employment.</p> + +<p>She went to the files and spent some time in checking +off the grades of supplies called for by the orders +the factory already had contracted for. And suddenly—it +was quite a startling discovery—she came upon +the schedule of the Bogata Company’s order which +she had every reason to believe had been declined.</p> + +<p>She had a clear remembrance of the letter she had +written, Mr. Barton’s approval of it, even the reason +for the order being refused by the Hapwood-Diller +Manufacturing Company. This reason was connected +with the very purchase of these special supplies +she had noted in the puzzling schedule in her hand.</p> + +<p>It could not be overlooked. There was something +wrong in what she had discovered.</p> + +<p>Fearing she knew not what—a mistake on her own +part, perhaps—she waited until she could find Mayberry +disengaged. When she knew he was in the +manager’s office and alone, Ethel ventured to knock +upon the door.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br> + +<small>A PUZZLING SITUATION</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mayberry</span> glanced up swiftly as she entered the +office at his response. He was rolling a cigarette +which he finished and lighted, vouchsafing her +merely a casual nod. Very different treatment, this, +from Frank Barton’s unfailing courtesy.</p> + +<p>“What’s on the docket, Ethel?” Mayberry asked, +eyeing her through the smoke that circled from his +lips. “Anything wrong?”</p> + +<p>“I am not at all sure that there is anything wrong, +Mr. Mayberry,” she replied, ignoring the chair he +twisted about for her to occupy, and standing at +the end of the desk. “I have found something which +puzzles me so much that I thought it best to have you +ratify the order before it is sent.”</p> + +<p>“What order?”</p> + +<p>She placed before him the schedule for supplies +which he had given to one of the other girls to copy. +“These are the items that puzzle me,” she said, pointing +to several which, in summing up, amounted to +several thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>“Well?” he said, his gaze direct and not at all reassuring.</p> + +<p>But Ethel Clayton was not to be easily put down. +“I was not aware,” she said quietly, “that any of our<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> +contracts now under way called for goods of that +grade.”</p> + +<p>“Well?” he said again and in the same sneering +tone.</p> + +<p>“So I investigated,” Ethel pursued, apparently +unshaken, “and I found this.” She placed before +him the papers relating to the Bogata order which +she felt so sure Mr. Barton had refused to consider.</p> + +<p>“Huh? Why shouldn’t you find it?” Mayberry +asked in apparent surprise. Yet he flushed slightly, +too.</p> + +<p>“I have every reason to suppose that order refused. +You know it, too. You remember that Mr. Barton +asked me to write a letter to that end. I did so.”</p> + +<p>“I remember there was something said about it,” +Mayberry reflected. “But I heard nothing more +about it. Frank said nothing further to me.”</p> + +<p>“No. Because it was settled, Mr. Mayberry,” the +girl said more confidently. “We cannot fill this +order.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed? Are you sure about that?” he asked, +eyeing her with perfect composure now.</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t I be sure?” she retorted.</p> + +<p>“Well—I don’t know,” he drawled. “If you wrote +a letter refusing this order, Frank saw it, of course?”</p> + +<p>“He O.K.’d it,” she said.</p> + +<p>“And it was sent?”</p> + +<p>“So I presume.”</p> + +<p>“It looks to me as though Frank must have changed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> +his mind,” the superintendent said with a sly little +smile. “He said nothing more to me about it. He +would, it seems to me, if the order was finally refused. +Having once discussed the matter with me, seems +to me he would have done that.”</p> + +<p>“But he thought you understood,” cried the girl, +both puzzled and alarmed. “You know he said the +Bogata Company’s credit was involved. It was not +whether the order should be accepted or not that +was under discussion, Mr. Mayberry. It was merely +how the refusal should be couched—in what terms. +Don’t you remember?”</p> + +<p>“I admit you seem to have a clearer remembrance +of the circumstances than I,” said Mayberry. “But +it looks to me as though Frank had changed his mind +about it without referring to the matter again to +either of us. He probably found out that his fears +regarding the Bogata Company’s credit were unfounded. +Otherwise how would I have found the +order on file? We have got to get right to work on +it, too. That is why I am ordering these particular +supplies.”</p> + +<p>“But, Mr. Mayberry!” she gasped, “I am quite +sure a mistake has been made. Mr. Barton never +intended this order to be filled.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?”</p> + +<p>“The letter I wrote——”</p> + +<p>“Pooh! I suppose Frank was trying you out—seeing +what you could do in an emergency,” and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> +superintendent laughed. “He never sent your letter. +The Bogata people are old customers. It would not +do to offend them.”</p> + +<p>“That is just it, Mr. Mayberry,” she cried. “It +was a serious matter. I feel sure—Why! I put the +letter in the mail myself.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry sat up straighter in his chair and his +gaze became more intent. He dropped the butt of +his cigarette in the ash tray that was never on the +desk when the general manager was there.</p> + +<p>“You mean to tell me,” he asked, “that you posted +that letter after Barton signed it?”</p> + +<p>“No. It was after John made his last trip to the +post-office. When Mr. Barton had signed the letter +I sealed it in the envelope, affixed the stamp, and +placed it in the letter basket on my desk with other +late mail.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! Did those letters go out that evening?” +Mayberry asked.</p> + +<p>“No. John always takes them when he goes to +early post—before I arrive at my desk.”</p> + +<p>“Then Frank could have regained the letter without +your knowing it.”</p> + +<p>“But, Mr. Mayberry! surely he would have said +something.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure? He was not in the habit of taking +you—or even me—into his confidence in most matters, +was he?” and Mayberry looked at the girl keenly. +“Where’s the carbon copy of that letter?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>“I’ll get it,” she said, turning swiftly to the door.</p> + +<p>“And I say, Ethel!” he said. “Bring the Bogata +Company’s letter as well, will you?”</p> + +<p>She resented his familiar way of speaking; but +never had she been able to break Jim Mayberry of +calling her by her given name. And he had, after +all, known her when she was still a child. She was +gone some minutes from the private office—long +enough for Mayberry to smoke a second cigarette. +She appeared with the proper drawer of the file cabinet +and her countenance had fallen. She had run +hastily through the Bogata correspondence. Here +was the letter which had accompanied the order +from the Bogata Company. The copy of the answer +she had written at Frank Barton’s behest, and which +he had approved, was not to be found.</p> + +<p>“I do not understand it, Mr. Mayberry,” the girl +declared in a worried tone.</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! easily enough understood,” the superintendent +rejoined. “He probably conferred with somebody +who knew the Bogata people are as safe as a +stone church. So he withdrew the letter from your +mail basket after you went home.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Mayberry!”</p> + +<p>“Sure.” Mayberry laughed. “You’ve stirred up +a mare’s nest. Don’t worry.”</p> + +<p>“But I can’t accept your assertion as at all plausible,” +the girl said earnestly. “He surely would +have spoken to me about it. The next day——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>“His mind was full of army stuff. He did not know +half the time what he was doing here for a week before +he went.”</p> + +<p>Ethel knew that was not at all true. But she was +not here to quarrel with the superintendent. However, +she said:</p> + +<p>“I remember clearly that Mr. Barton did not remain +here later than I did that evening, Mr. Mayberry. +I saw him on the street after I left the factory +by the side gate.”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” Mayberry’s cheeks suddenly burned again +and his eyes glittered as he gazed loweringly upon +her. “You seem to remember mighty well what happened. +I remember that evening, too, come to think +of it. I was waiting out in front for you in my car. +You stood me up.”</p> + +<p>Scorn leaped suddenly into the girl’s eyes. “I do +not understand you, Mr. Mayberry,” she said tartly.</p> + +<p>“Oh! you don’t, hey?”</p> + +<p>“We are not discussing personalities,” she said, +dropping her gaze and ignoring his ugly look. “This +is business. I fear there has been a serious mistake +made.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the kind, that <i>I</i> can see,” Mayberry +rejoined. “Barton changed his mind. Why should +you bother <i>your</i> head about it further?”</p> + +<p>His sneer bit like acid in a fresh wound; but Ethel +checked her temper.</p> + +<p>“I do not mean to interfere in the slightest with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +your work, Mr. Mayberry. Mr. Barton brought me +into the affair himself. I feel that all is not right. +Let us communicate with Mr. Barton before this +order for stock is sent. It may save the Hapwood-Diller +Company several thousand dollars.”</p> + +<p>“It won’t save us a cent.”</p> + +<p>“But—”</p> + +<p>“I’ve got it all figured out. You see, I’ve had this +on my mind a long time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that may be true, still—”</p> + +<p>“It won’t save us a cent, Ethel,” the superintendent +drawled again, having recovered his own temper. +“This Bogata order’s got to be filled. It will do no +good to delay the purchase of supplies. It’s Friday +now. If we wrote to-night we could not expect an +answer before Tuesday or Wednesday from Barton. +And I can point out to you why even he cannot change +matters now.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” she demanded sharply.</p> + +<p>He picked up the letter which had accompanied +the schedule of the order from the Bogata Company +of Norville. If he smiled Ethel did not see it, for she +was eagerly scanning the paragraph to which Mayberry’s +finger pointed:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Prices and terms as agreed upon in our last two +orders. If we hear nothing to the contrary within +ten days shall consider the order and terms accepted +and will look for delivery of first quota of goods within +ninety days.”</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>“Actually,” drawled Mayberry, “this order was +accepted by us more than a month ago. It was evident +that Barton did not send the letter you wrote, +and removed the copy of it from the file. The schedule +came to me in the usual way. There is nothing +more to be said about it, Ethel. I believe that Frank +himself said something about The Hapwood-Diller +Company never reneging on a job. It would be a +bad precedent to do so when he is absent from his +post.”</p> + +<p>He said it so that the girl actually winced. To +think of Jim Mayberry pointing out to her the ethics +of the matter!</p> + +<p>“The fact is,” he pursued, coolly, “I have got to +get a hustle on to make the first delivery within the +specified time. I have already arranged to increase +the output of Shop Number Two in order to do this. +We shall run four or five hours overtime five days a +week, beginning Monday. We’re crowded with work +as it is; and this Bogata order is a big one.”</p> + +<p>Ethel listened to him in silence. She realized that +it was useless to say anything more. Her heart +pounded in her ears, but her countenance remained +pale. She felt the approach of disaster when she +turned away from his desk with the letter file-drawer +in her arms.</p> + +<p>“Don’t trouble your head about it, Ethel,” he +called after her. “You take everything too blamed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +seriously—just as I told you before. It won’t get +you anywhere——”</p> + +<p>But she had closed the door between them. Had +she turned to answer she realized very clearly that +she would have said something for which she might +be sorry afterward.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br> + +<small>THE DUTY DEVOLVES</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ethel Clayton</span> felt the assurance of wrongdoing +on the part of the superintendent of the Hapwood-Diller +Company. Yet she could not tell why nor +how.</p> + +<p>That the concern had been drawn into the Bogata +affair by some trick was without question. Mayberry’s +look and words alone would have proved that +to her satisfaction.</p> + +<p>She had a clear and particular remembrance of +the circumstances surrounding the receipt of the +order from the Norville company, Barton’s decision +to refuse to fill it, his reason for so doing, and all. +The way in which she had shown the general manager +how to refuse the order without giving offence could +not easily be forgotten.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barton had said that the running of the factory +on double time, or crowding the shops with extra +workmen, meant a distinct loss of profit rather than +a gain for the Hapwood-Diller Company. The factory +was not arranged for such increase of output. +More than one concern has been ruined by such false +prosperity.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>Here Mayberry was planning to put into execution +exactly the plan vetoed by the absent general manager’s +good sense. Yet, knowing how the contracts +for their product stood, Ethel believed that such increase +in working hours would be necessary if the +Bogata order was to be filled on time.</p> + +<p>There was a catch there. She felt it. She was +convinced that the superintendent had more knowledge +of the subject than he was willing to admit.</p> + +<p>It all puzzled the girl. Why should Jim Mayberry +be so determined to balk Mr. Barton’s will? And +in this particular instance?</p> + +<p>As far as she had been able to see the superintendent +had done nothing in his conduct of the factory’s +affairs which would have either displeased Barton or +was contrary to the latter’s methods. Why was the +superintendent so determined to favor the Bogata +Company?</p> + +<p>She remembered clearly that the general manager +of the Hapwood-Diller Company was positive of the +irresponsibility of the Bogata people. There was no +gainsaying that. She was positive he had not changed +his mind, involving the destruction of the letter she +had written and Barton had signed, the removal of +the carbon copy from the files, and the filing of the +schedule of the Bogata Company’s order.</p> + +<p>No! she would not believe Frank Barton had done +all that and said nothing about it to either Mayberry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +or herself. Yet, if the manager had not done it, +<i>who had</i>?</p> + +<p>Who would be benefited by such a favor to the +Bogata people? It might be actually disastrous to +the Hapwood-Diller Company—and that thought +frightened Ethel.</p> + +<p>She did not know what to do. That is, what to +do to halt the line of conduct Mayberry had plainly +determined to follow. She figured up the schedule +for factory stock again. Between four and five thousand +dollars for special grade raw material, useless +except to the Bogata people, was included in it.</p> + +<p>Knowing well how carefully Barton had watched +the outlay for stock for months—how narrow the +line was between profit and loss in every department +indeed—Ethel quite realized that this single purchase +would make a very bad showing upon the books of +the Hapwood-Diller Company, unless the Bogata +order was finished and was paid for.</p> + +<p>If that contract was filled and was not paid for, a +ruinous deficit in supplies and labor cost would face +the factory at the end of the fiscal year. And in +addition the general manager had assured her he +figured overtime work or an increase of help in the +shops as positively detrimental.</p> + +<p>This order for stock and factory supplies was supposed +to go out at once. It was nearly time for John +Murphy to make his last trip for the day to the post-office. +There was absolutely nothing to hold the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> +order back, and Mayberry, she knew, would take +offence if the matter was retarded.</p> + +<p>It was true that five days must be wasted if Mr. +Barton was communicated with by mail. And that +joker in the Bogata Company’s letter seemed to be a +barrier to any attempt to get out of fulfilling the +contract at this late day. Would it do any good to +disturb Barton about the matter at all now?</p> + +<p>If she could only see him! If she could discuss the +point with him—tell him of her suspicions and fears. +At least, some of her suspicions. Ethel scarcely admitted +to herself that she positively identified the +person guilty of juggling the letters and the Bogata +order sheets. Merely she felt certain that Frank +Barton knew nothing about it.</p> + +<p>He should know. He must know before more +harm was done.</p> + +<p>The order for supplies was before her. She reached +across the desk for the envelope in which to enclose +it and her stiff linen cuff caught in the filigree work +of the inkstand the office staff had presented to her.</p> + +<p>It tottered. In another moment the catastrophe +had occurred—a deluge of blue fluid rolled across the +desk and the papers on it.</p> + +<p>Ethel sprang up to escape the drip from the top +of the desk.</p> + +<p>“Man overboard!” ejaculated Benway Chase, +starting for the lavatory for a towel with which to +mop up the ink.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>Little Skinner held the blotted order sheets gingerly +by their corners, to drip over Ethel’s wastebasket.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” she said, hoarsely, “all them papers!”</p> + +<p>“Those papers, Mabel,” admonished Ethel involuntarily.</p> + +<p>For Mabel Skinner was like an actor afflicted with +stammering in his natural character; when once in +his part and on the stage he never stutters. So +Mabel, nimble of wit, who was studying stenography +at a night school, hoping to work up to a better position +with the Hapwood-Diller Company, could take +the small amount of dictation that fell to her reasonably +well and could transcribe it into fair English: +but she usually talked like a street gamin.</p> + +<p>“They will have to be recopied, Mabel,” Ethel +said quietly. “Josephine has her hands full; will you +do it for me?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” agreed Miss Skinner, shifting her gum. +Then she cocked an apprehensive eye at the clock. +“I—I got a date to-night, Miss Clayton; but I can +go without supper——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t wish you to finish it to-night, Mabel. Let +me have it completed sometime to-morrow forenoon.”</p> + +<p>“I’m on,” said the girl, and bore away the streaked +and blotted papers to her machine.</p> + +<p>John was called in to clean up the muss, and after +a while Ethel could resume her seat. Nothing of +importance upon her desk had been spoiled by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +ink but the supply order sheets, and fortunately +Jim Mayberry did not come out of the private office +until it was all over. It was Ethel’s business to see +that the order was promptly sent. It was her fault +that it was delayed.</p> + +<p>Never before in her business experience had Ethel +Clayton deliberately done such a thing. She was +acting upon her own initiative and in a way that +scarcely measured up to her ethical standards. Yet +how should she meet guile save with guile?</p> + +<p>On the way home that evening Benway was bewailing +the fact that Mr. Barton was not in the office +so that he could see how well he, Benway, was fitting +into the routine of the office.</p> + +<p>“Even Mr. Mayberry admits I can do the work all +right,” the boy said hopefully. “He said as much +yesterday. But I don’t like the fellow, Ethel. I +don’t like the way he looks at you.”</p> + +<p>“‘A cat may look at a king’, Bennie,” she said +lightly.</p> + +<p>“But no dog like him should look at a queen, +Ethel,” Benway Chase retorted with a smile and +a little sigh. “They are all tarred with the same +brush, Ethel. Every man that comes into the offices +wants to hang over your desk and palaver.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, Ben! How you talk!” she exclaimed, a little +flushed and annoyed. “I declare I’ll have you sent +out into the shipping room to work if you watch me +like that.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>“Pooh!” he laughed. “Is the honey at fault because +the bees buzz around it?”</p> + +<p>“How poetical!” she scoffed. Yet she was secretly +displeased. She did not like to think that the men +she met in business hours gave her more attention +than matters relating to business called for. The +one man whose admiration she would have been +glad to secure had never, while he was with them, +shown any particular interest in her.</p> + +<p>Ethel was too introspective for her own comfort.</p> + +<p>She wondered all the evening if the thought that +was budding in her mind was germinated by her desire +to see Frank Barton. Was it for business reasons +that she determined on her course? Or did she have +another and more personal desire to speak with the +general manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company, +face to face?</p> + +<p>However, she considered that the duty had devolved +upon her to take a drastic course. The order +for new stock for the factory could be delayed only +forty-eight hours through the accident to the first +draft of the schedule. Instead of its reaching its +destination on Saturday, Ethel saw to it that it was +not mailed until after noon on Saturday. Therefore +it would not be received by the dealer to whom it was +assigned until Monday. Meantime——</p> + +<p>She astonished her mother on Saturday evening by +announcing that she proposed to go to Quehasset on +the early train Sunday morning. By this time the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> +railroad was running excursion trains to the officers’ +training camp on Saturdays and Sundays. Quehasset +was becoming a popular week-end resort.</p> + +<p>“Not alone!” gasped Mrs. Clayton. “Never!”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to know why not?” her daughter asked, +rather tartly. “I’ve been to Boston alone, and that’s +farther.”</p> + +<p>“But it won’t look right—all those men, Ethel. +You know some of them, too. There’s Mr. Barton!”</p> + +<p>“I expect to see him,” declared the girl composedly.</p> + +<p>“It—it doesn’t look right,” objected her mother +more faintly.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to know why not? I should hope I was +old enough to go about without a chaperon, or——”</p> + +<p>“Let Benway go with you,” urged Mrs. Clayton, +hurriedly.</p> + +<p>But that was exactly what Ethel did not wish to do. +Indeed, if possible, she should have liked to keep the +knowledge of her trip to Quehasset from her mother. +She hurried away early in the morning, before most +of the folk at that end of Burnaby Street were astir, +and boarded the train which stopped but a minute +at the Mailsburg Station at eight o’clock.</p> + +<p>She noted, as she passed along the High Street to +the station, that more than the usual number of automobiles +were abroad and most of them headed for +the Creek Road which was the first lap of the driving +highway to the training camp.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>The Fuller car was one of these she saw. Helen +was driving and her mother and father sat in the +tonneau. Her cousins gave Ethel Clayton not the +slightest notice, but she could not help being somewhat +disturbed by the thought that they were likewise +bound for the training camp and that they +would see her there with Frank Barton. At any rate, +she hoped to arrive at the army camp first.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br> + +<small>LOVE AND BUSINESS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Frank Barton</span> had been thinking but little of love +and not much about business. His entire time from +the bugle-blown:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="first">“I can’t get ’em up!</div> +<div class="verse">I can’t get ’em up!</div> +<div class="verse">I can’t get ’em up in the mor-r-rning!”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>to tattoo at night was filled with thoughts military. +In addition to the regular course in tactics, he was +studying special branches, such as the science of gunfire, +range finding, signaling, and the like, for he wished +to be assigned to the Field Artillery branch of the +service.</p> + +<p>His former experience in the Guard was of vast +assistance to him, yet he found that even the brief +campaign on the Mexican Border had greatly changed +the drill and the training of both officers and men. +New methods were being adopted all the time. He +soon realized that a military formula based upon the +experience gained by our War Department in the +Civil War, and upon which basis the National Guard +had been drilled in the past, was almost as old-fashioned +as the rules for conducting a Field of Honor +in the time of the Crusaders.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>The Great War has flung into the discard most +established measures of warfare. Fancy, so many +years after the tilting with spears, a fighting man +wearing an iron pot on his head!</p> + +<p>Barton had little time for the social life of the +camp nor interest in it. He was only interested in +those men about him who were as sturdily in earnest +as himself in learning and getting ahead. Some +were getting into “this army thing,” as they called it, +as a profession; some out of pure patriotism, even if +they did not talk about it. In either case those who +were not thoroughly in earnest did not last long.</p> + +<p>He was mildly surprised when Morry Copley and +his friend Bradley arrived in camp—the former arrayed +in a uniform cut by a fashionable tailor, Bradley +slouching behind in his heavy way, and with a +scowl. Why either of these fellows had come it was +hard for Barton to understand.</p> + +<p>Reports from the factory encouraged Barton to +believe that he might safely continue his training. +Mayberry had driven over in his car once to see him +and they had talked things over. Business seemed +running on well-oiled gears. There had been nothing +in Ethel Clayton’s brief letters to make him apprehensive. +The factory and its affairs seemed far afield +from him.</p> + +<p>The camp interests were so manifold that when +even a short furlough was due him Barton did not go +home to Mailsburg. Instead he went to New York<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +to confer with certain high officers of the Department +of the East who he felt sure would bear him in +mind if chance arose for an early assignment to the +Front. If business matters remained as they seemed +to be, he was determined to get “over there” as soon +as possible. Pershing’s hundred thousand were on +the scene; the engineers had marched through London +and had arrived in France; now it was the Rainbow +Division that was talked of as being almost +ready to sail, and Frank Barton was eager to be +assigned to duty with them.</p> + +<p>“Rest your mind easy, Barton,” Grandon Fuller +assured him the first time he came over to Camp +Quehasset with his daughter. “We stockholders +appreciate all that you have done; the Board is more +than pleased with your work. But you have trained +a good assistant in Mayberry. He’ll do very well.”</p> + +<p>“I believe he will,” Frank Barton said heartily. +He would rather, however, have had a reassuring +word from Macon Hammerly upon this point. But +Hammerly neither wrote to him nor came near the +camp.</p> + +<p>Helen was full of her own plans, although she did +not forget to show some interest in Barton’s affairs. +She had become an active member of the Red Cross +forces. Being amply able to pay her own expenses, +and with health and freedom, she had the more easily +secured permission to join the very next quota of +Red Cross workers sailing from “an Atlantic seaport”—that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +in about six weeks. Her mother was +to go with her and establish herself in Paris.</p> + +<p>“Really,” Barton thought, “it is brave of Helen, +and wonderfully unselfish as well.” That the girl +made a display of everything she did was not seen +by his blinded eyes.</p> + +<p>Barton was expecting the Fullers over again in their +car on this Sunday, and had accordingly polished his +accoutrements and made his quarters presentable. +He shared these last with three other men; but they +were all off for the day, and he himself was duty-free +until taps.</p> + +<p>So he was not at all surprised when he heard the +rustle of crisp skirts and a light tapping on his open +door. Before he could reply to the summons he heard +Morry Copley’s high voice advising:</p> + +<p>“He must be there, Miss—ah—Really, I’m suah +he’s not gone out of the street this morning. I’ll +look around for him if I may?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said a very cool voice. Morry was +evidently not being encouraged. And it was not +Helen Fuller who spoke.</p> + +<p>“Miss Clayton!”</p> + +<p>Barton appeared with hand outstretched and a +real welcome in his eyes. But Copley was not to be +easily ignored.</p> + +<p>“I say, Barton,” he drawled, “I showed her over +here from the camp entrance, knowing you were at +home, don’t you know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>“Thanks, old fellow,” Barton said. “This is Miss +Clayton’s first visit to the camp.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I knew that,” Copley agreed, boldly eyeing +the girl and showing no desire to relieve them of his +presence. One of Barton’s Western brother-rookies +would have accused the young exquisite of “horning +in.” “I’m suah if I’d ever seen—er—the lady here +before I should have remembered her.”</p> + +<p>Ethel was plainly ruffled; but Frank Barton burst +into hearty laughter. He considered Morry quite +harmless.</p> + +<p>“Miss Clayton, I am sure, will allow me to introduce +you, Copley,” he said cordially, and then +smiled at Ethel. “Mr. Copley comes from our town, +Miss Clayton.”</p> + +<p>“Bah Jove! I saw you before in a tea room once,” +Morry burst out. “Suah I did! I was with Miss +Fuller, you know. I wonder I did not recognize +you before. You weren’t dressed the same, you +know.”</p> + +<p>“If it was on a working day I am sure she was not +dressed the same,” Barton said, looking frankly his +approval of Ethel’s Sunday appearance.</p> + +<p>And yet, as she stood bandying light conversation +with the two men, Ethel Clayton was secretly hurt. +Would Frank Barton have so casually introduced +Helen Fuller, for instance, to any companion-in-arms +who had forced himself upon them as Morry +Copley had? The thought stung her pride.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>Really Copley seemed more than a little interested +in her. He rattled on boldly, and there was not a +chance for her to divert his attention that she might +speak seriously and personally to the man she had +come to see.</p> + +<p>The latter was unfeignedly glad to see her; but he +seemed to consider her visit merely a social one. +And that did not altogether please Ethel Clayton. +She had come strictly on business. At least, so she +had been assuring herself. Yet all Barton seemed +to care about the factory and its affairs was expressed +in a perfunctory:</p> + +<p>“Everything going on all right at the works, Miss +Clayton? Though of course that is a superfluous +question with such capable people as you and Mayberry +on the job. I knew it would be that way.”</p> + +<p>“Really, Mr. Barton, you must not assume too +much,” she hesitated, unable to approach clearly +before Morry Copley the matter that so troubled her +and that had brought her to Quehasset.</p> + +<p>“I say,” drawled the latter, “you don’t mean to +say Miss Clayton is one of these really industrious +people—like yourself, Barton? Is she, too, a prop +and support of the Hapwood-Diller Company?”</p> + +<p>“She most certainly is!” smiled the general manager. +“But I believe she brings me nothing but +good news. How about it, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>It was her chance—perhaps the best one she would +have to get him away from this chattering, inconsequential<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> +Morry Copley. “I have one puzzle to consult +you about, Mr. Barton,” she began, when, with +a whir and clash of released gears, a big touring car +whirled around the corner and halted almost directly +before the shack.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Jimminy Christmas, see who’s here!” ejaculated +Copley.</p> + +<p>“Miss Fuller! Welcome to our city!” joined in +Barton, and hastily descended to the car.</p> + +<p>Morry Copley remained lounging beside Ethel, +greeting the girl in the car with merely the semaphore +sign of good comradeship. Helen was alone, +having dropped her mother and father at the Staff +Headquarters. As had been said, Grandon Fuller +had once borne the title of “Colonel” and played the +fact now for all it was worth.</p> + +<p>“Don’t let me keep you, Mr. Copley,” Ethel said +significantly.</p> + +<p>“No chance!” drawled Morry. “Miss Fuller has +no use for me when Barton’s around. They talk +nothing but war and nursing. Gee! I hate to think +of folks getting all mussed up so.”</p> + +<p>“Why, for pity’s sake, did you ever join this +camp?” Ethel asked, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>“I rawther fancied myself in the uniform, don’t +you know,” he declared, but with twinkling eyes. +“I say!” he added, “they’re not going for a spin without +us?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>Ethel leaped to her feet and anger flashed from her +eyes, although Morry did not see it. Miss Fuller +was evidently trying to urge Barton to get into the +car. She had punched her starter button and the +car began to throb.</p> + +<p>But Barton turned back to the two on the plank +porch of the shack. “Do come, Miss Clayton,” he +urged. “I promised I would take luncheon with +Miss Fuller to-day at the Mannerly Arms, and she +has not much time. It will be quite all right, I am +sure. If you have something to say to me——”</p> + +<p>“My errand is strictly business, Mr. Barton,” Ethel +replied shortly.</p> + +<p>“I am sure Miss Fuller will wait——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, bring her along, <i>do</i>!” exclaimed Helen from +the car and with impatience. “Come on, Morry. +I know <i>you</i> are dying to take her. You’ll excuse me +for not getting out and begging you myself, Miss +Clayton,” she added carelessly. “I suppose it is +sometimes necessary to mix business with pleasure. +If you really <i>have</i> to consult Mr. Barton——”</p> + +<p>“I will not detain him long, Miss Fuller,” Ethel +said, pale but firm. “I have neither time nor inclination +to go to lunch with you—and Mr. Copley. +She dismissed the latter with a curt nod, and he strolled +down to the car, grumbling, while Barton, a little +vexed, took his place beside the girl who he acknowledged +was so capable an assistant in the factory office.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>“I am sorry to interfere in any way with your +affairs, Mr. Barton,” Ethel hastened to say. “Had +I not believed the occasion serious——”</p> + +<p>“Serious for me?” he asked quickly, eyeing her +curiously.</p> + +<p>“Serious to the Hapwood-Diller Company,” she +replied stiffly. “Of course I have a double interest +in the welfare of the company. My mother’s income +depends upon its profits.”</p> + +<p>“I know that your mother holds some of our stock,” +he said patiently.</p> + +<p>“Therefore my particular interest may perhaps be +excused.” Ethel could not help saying this, if it was +a mite catty. She could not feel in any angelic mood +at the moment. “In addition, Mr. Barton, you +asked me to keep a watchful eye on things in the +office.”</p> + +<p>“I did,” he said with gentleness.</p> + +<p>She flushed more deeply. It was plain that he +was quite aware she had been hurt by Miss Fuller’s +manner; and that but increased Ethel’s vexation. +As though it really mattered what Helen Fuller did +or said!</p> + +<p>He noted the flush and looked disturbed.</p> + +<p>“Are you not feeling well?” he asked kindly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I am perfectly well,” she returned quickly.</p> + +<p>“You look as if you might have a headache, or +something like that.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>“It wouldn’t matter if I did have,” she replied, +not knowing what else to say.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, it would. I don’t want you to work if +you are not well.”</p> + +<p>“Here is the situation,” and she rushed on to state +the matter of the Bogata order with her usual brisk +explicitness.</p> + +<p>Barton now gave close attention, and his changing +expression betrayed the value he put upon her story. +At its conclusion he demanded:</p> + +<p>“But what’s the matter with Jim? He must know +that we all agreed those people were not to be trusted.”</p> + +<p>“He did not agree to that, it is evident,” Ethel said +dryly. “In fact, his remembrance seems to be hazy +regarding the whole matter. Seems to think you +would have spoken to him about it again had you +not intended to accept the order.”</p> + +<p>Barton made an impatient gesture. “That’s Jim +all over. Stubborn as a mule!” he exclaimed. “And +yet that very stubbornness makes him of value in +many circumstances.”</p> + +<p>It was plain he had no real suspicion of Mayberry. +And Ethel was determined not to put forward just +at that time her own belief in the superintendent’s +treachery.</p> + +<p>“And what have you done about the matter before +coming to me?” Barton asked with a curiosity +that Ethel thought she understood. He was not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +at all sure whether she had the initiative to balk this +thing which she believed was all wrong.</p> + +<p>“Something wholly feminine, I fear,” she replied, +and told him of the accident to the order addressed +to the factory supply people.</p> + +<p>Barton laughed shortly. Evidently he was not +displeased.</p> + +<p>“I can see you have a very good reason for not +quarreling with Mayberry. Quite right. Things +would by no means go so smoothly if you two could +not work together. You retarded the order so that +you could see me to-day?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And what do you expect me to do?”</p> + +<p>“If that Bogata order is not to be filled, you can +telegraph the stock people to hold our order for correction.”</p> + +<p>“Right! You certainly have a grasp of the situation, +as you always have, Miss Clayton,” he said +promptly. “I will dictate that telegram. You +can send it from the railroad station as you go back, +if you will.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Barton,” she responded, whipping out +her book and pencil.</p> + +<p>He smiled covertly. She was all business now.</p> + +<p>“Your suspicions are quite correct,” Barton observed. +“Somebody tampered with that letter and +order. I did not see the letter or the carbon copy of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +it after signing the former. The Bogata people must +have a friend in our offices. Have you any idea——”</p> + +<p>“No!” she exclaimed almost harshly.</p> + +<p>If Barton could not see Jim Mayberry’s hand in +the affair surely it was not her place to tell him. He +seemed to ignore utterly the possibility of the superintendent’s +being the person guilty.</p> + +<p>“The Bogata people cannot hold us to any such +terms,” Barton went on to say. “We did not accept +the order. Business—especially as important a +matter as this—is not so easily done. Their letter +was a good deal of a bluff as it stood. I should have +felt justified in throwing it and the schedule of their +order into my wastebasket. Jim Mayberry is green +yet. I’ll have you take word to him——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Barton! if you do that you will make my +position terribly difficult,” she cried.</p> + +<p>“True,” he admitted. “I suppose that is so. I +will communicate with Hammerly. He knows all +about the affairs of the Bogata people. We will let +him break the news to Jim,” and he laughed a little.</p> + +<p>“You see, Miss Clayton, we must expect such +mistakes as this to creep in when a fellow is like Jim. +He has all the knowledge of the business that is necessary, +I am sure. But he is likely to make mistakes—at +first.”</p> + +<p>She looked at the manager in wonder. Was it +possible that his old-time interest in Jim Mayberry, +and the fact that they had been friends for so long,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> +utterly blinded Barton to the superintendent’s faults?</p> + +<p>“You have a quicker mind than Jim,” went on +Barton, easily, “and you haven’t his stubbornness. +I really would not dare accept my lieutenancy and +ask for active duty if Jim had not you at his elbow. +I know you will not let him make any serious error.”</p> + +<p>“But, Mr. Barton!” she cried, under her breath, +“you do not expect really to leave the country so +quickly?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps. I have offered my services. I have +got my commission. Really, my work here has +been somewhat like a review of former studies. And +officers are needed——”</p> + +<p>“Not <i>over there</i>?” Ethel gasped.</p> + +<p>He did not chance to see her face as he replied +quietly: “So we expect. We are not supposed to +talk of it. Certain movements of the War Department +are kept secret. But whatever happens to +me I am confident you and Jim will conduct the +affairs of the Hapwood-Diller Company successfully. +Why, this proves it! What he overlooks you will +not miss. Now, will you take a letter to Mr. Hammerly?”</p> + +<p>She held her pencil poised in readiness and nodded. +Surely at that moment she could not have uttered a +word. He began to dictate, and the letter was +couched in such terms as to show his belief that Jim +Mayberry was perfectly innocent of all guile in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> +matter. However, when it was concluded, Barton +said reflectively:</p> + +<p>“But there is a traitor in the offices, Miss Clayton. +That we know it must put you and Mayberry both +on guard. I depend on you particularly to watch for +the guilty party.”</p> + +<p>“And suppose I find him?” she demanded quickly.</p> + +<p>“If you cannot reach me,” Barton gravely told her, +“then—then go to Mr. Hammerly. Cross-grained +as he is, he is perfectly honest. Besides,” he added, +“next to Mr. Grandon Fuller, he owns more stock +in the Hapwood-Diller Company than anybody else.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br> + +<small>WAR IS DECLARED</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">For pity’s</span> sake, Mr. Barton, <i>do</i> come away,” +Helen Fuller cried at last. “We’ll <i>never</i> have time +for luncheon.”</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon. Business must be attended to before +we can take our pleasure, always,” and Frank +Barton laughed.</p> + +<p>But Ethel’s countenance was quite composed again. +She did not even glance in Miss Fuller’s direction as +she closed the notebook and put it and the pencil into +her bag.</p> + +<p>“Good-day, Miss Clayton,” Barton said, taking +her hand. “I will not thank you for coming to me +on this business, for I know your deep interest in +the company’s affairs. That was merely your duty. +But to see you again has been a pleasure. Even +should I be assigned to foreign duty suddenly, I +shall hope to see all my Mailsburg friends at least +once before I sail. I send my regards to everybody +in the office.”</p> + +<p>It was like that. He did not consider her call a +personal one. Yet that was not altogether Frank +Barton’s fault, for Ethel had made it plain that she +had come only on business. The young manager<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +of the Hapwood-Diller Company was no more dense +than any other man.</p> + +<p>Helen’s voice, with a tartness in it that could not +be mistaken, reached them again:</p> + +<p>“<i>Do</i> hurry, Mr. Barton! I presume if you were +fighting in the trenches it would all have to stop +while you gave your attention to some factory matter.”</p> + +<p>He laughed and ran down the steps to the car. +The engine of the latter began to roar again.</p> + +<p>“Coming, Morry?” Helen asked, as the wheels began +to revolve.</p> + +<p>“Two’s company, three’s a gang,” he drawled, +waving his hand. “Farewell. I am going to show +Miss Clayton around the camp.”</p> + +<p>This he insisted on doing. After the brusk departure +of Barton in the car Ethel was too proud to +show any chagrin. Besides, Morry Copley was evidently +desirous of pleasing her. She noted that he +had assumed quite a military carriage and concluded +that his few weeks in camp had done him a world of +good.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you let me call on you when I come back +to Mailsburg on furlough, Miss Clayton?” he asked, +when he had showed her everything of general interest +in the camp.</p> + +<p>“Most certainly not!” Ethel exclaimed bluntly. +“You know very well Mrs. Copley would be horrified +if you visited a working girl, Mr. Copley.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>“Aw, fiddle!” returned Morry in disgust, “I’m not +half as much tied to her apron strings as you think.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you should be,” Ethel laughed. “What +will she say if you really are ordered to France?”</p> + +<p>“Mothaw really thinks this is all play. She has +no idea we’ll really go. At least, not such fellows +as Bradley and me.”</p> + +<p>“And—will you?” Ethel wickedly observed.</p> + +<p>“If I get my commission I’ll be off before she knows +it—poor dear lady,” he declared. “Don’t you people +in Mailsburg fret. There are some men in this camp +besides Frank Barton.”</p> + +<p>Ethel sent the telegram holding up the stock order +as instructed by Barton, and when she arrived home +late in the afternoon she transcribed her notes of the +letter to Mr. Macon Hammerly and sent it to that +gentleman by special messenger. The latter appeared +in the offices of the Hapwood-Diller Company early +on Monday morning. For once he seemed to wish +to catch Jim Mayberry at his desk.</p> + +<p>“Let’s see,” scowled Macon Hammerly, eyeing +the superintendent blackly, “have you managed to +find a hat in town big enough for you, Jim?”</p> + +<p>“I have ’em made to order—and stretchable,” +grinned the younger man, never at a loss for an answer +when he met Hammerly, whom he just as cordially +disliked as Hammerly disliked him. “What’s biting +you now?”</p> + +<p>“A suspicion that you have a swelled head is eating<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> +on me,” frankly announced the old grain dealer, +his bushy eyebrows meeting again. “I’ve come to +give you a mite of advice.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks!” returned Mayberry, encouragingly. +“I’ve been expecting this visit ever since Frank went +away. It must have pained you to keep away so +long.”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” returned Hammerly. “It’s only +surprised me that I haven’t had to come around before. +I told Barton I’d keep an eye on you.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks again,” growled Mayberry, and this time +he did not look so pleasant. Hammerly was quite +unmoved.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the trouble,” he said, quietly watching the +superintendent. “Barton wrote me to look up the +Bogata people again.”</p> + +<p>The hit was palpable. Mayberry jumped in his +chair. He lifted his face to stare at the old man in +open surprise.</p> + +<p>“Seems there’s an order kicking around the office +here from them. Barton had his doubts about accepting +it. Now there <i>is</i> no doubt. You’re not to +do a stroke of work on those goods.”</p> + +<p>“Who says so?” snapped Mayberry. “Who’s in +charge here, I want to know, Mr. Hammerly?”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> won’t be,” said the other softly, “if you don’t +take well meant advice.”</p> + +<p>“Why! that order’s been accepted long ago. I’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> +ordered some of the stock. I’ve planned to begin the +work this week.”</p> + +<p>“Change your plans, Jim Mayberry. Change your +plans,” said Hammerly in a more threatening voice. +“You’re not in power here. Barton may come back +any day and polish you off. And this Bogata business +is settled—for all time. Don’t make a mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Why, we can’t——”</p> + +<p>“You’re right. You can’t fill the order. Pull in +your horns. The Bogata Company are going to +have a New Year’s present of a receivership. And +I’m hanged if I’ll stand by and see them try to bolster +up their rotten credit with the credit of the Hapwood-Diller +Company. They don’t happen to owe this +firm anything, Jim; but they owe everybody else in +the world who would give ’em a cent’s worth of credit. +You kill their order.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you it can’t be done,” muttered Mayberry.</p> + +<p>“If you don’t Barton will come here and do it himself. +He’s already wired your supply people to hold +that order you sent for correction. You’re not going +to run this factory into debt one penny’s worth +to aid the Bogata people.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry sprang up, his heavy face aflame. “If +you were a younger man, Mr. Hammerly——”</p> + +<p>“Forget my age, Jim. I’ve never seen the day yet +that I couldn’t handle a chap of your size and shape,” +and he let his keen eye run over Mayberry’s obese +figure. “You’re as stubborn as a mule. Perhaps<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> +that’s all the matter with you. But you’ve got your +instructions. All you need to do is to follow them. +Write to the Bogata people and tell them this factory +can’t fill their order.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see by what right——”</p> + +<p>“None at all. I’m butting in,” said Hammerly +turning to the door. “But you’d better think it +over.” He went out chuckling, and after a while +Mayberry cooled down. He knew well enough +Hammerly’s power on the board. He soon grew calm +enough to study the thing out.</p> + +<p>Barton had called on Hammerly for advice again. +How had Barton heard of the Bogata matter? Just +one answer to that question. Ethel Clayton!</p> + +<p>Mayberry’s expression when he came to this conclusion +boded ill for Ethel. He knew just how he +stood personally with her. Not that he cared more +for Ethel Clayton in the first place than he did for +half a dozen other girls. Only it had piqued him +that she should have been so disdainful of his advances.</p> + +<p>Now he had a real reason, he told himself, for considering +Ethel in the light of an enemy. She had +thwarted his intention of jamming the Bogata order +through the factory before Barton became aware of +what he was doing. The success of the scheme meant +much in a financial way to the superintendent.</p> + +<p>Now he could not do it. It was true that he had +got his orders from the old grain merchant. Hammerly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +would surely keep his eye on him hereafter—if +he had not already been doing so.</p> + +<p>Mayberry knew he had a friend in Grandon Fuller. +But he did not know yet just how much of a friend +Mr. Fuller was. Nor why he was friendly with him! +Mr. Fuller had not yet shown his hand.</p> + +<p>Fuller was the heaviest stockholder in the Hapwood-Diller +Company and was, of course, on the +board of directors. But it was doubtful if he could +swing more votes than Macon Hammerly.</p> + +<p>Angry as he was, Mayberry felt that it would be +the part of wisdom to keep from an open break with +the grain dealer. Besides, Barton had not gone to +France yet—if he ever did.</p> + +<p>A telegram came from the supply house:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“We hold your order as requested subject to correction.”</p> +</div> + +<p>Mayberry sent for Ethel.</p> + +<p>“What do you know about this, Ethel?” he demanded, +glowering at her as she read the telegram.</p> + +<p>“Just as much as you do, Mr. Mayberry,” she declared, +composedly enough.</p> + +<p>He thought that over a bit. Then he dictated a +a letter to the Bogata Company bluntly refusing to +fill their order and without even explaining or apologizing +for the seeming delay in answering their letter. +He had managed to do exactly what Barton had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> +tried to avoid—giving the Bogata people offence. +If the miracle happened, and the Bogata people +“came back,” they would never feel friendly again +toward the Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p>As for Mayberry and Ethel, war was declared between +them. There could be no further doubt of it.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br> + +<small>THE IMAGE HE TOOK AWAY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Although</span> Frank Barton was still manager of the +Hapwood-Diller Company, he had turned his salary +back into the treasury of the concern ever since joining +the training camp at Lake Quehasset.</p> + +<p>It was not long after the flurry regarding the Bogata +Company order that a suggestion was made in the +directors meeting of the Hapwood-Diller Company +that Barton be removed and Mayberry be put in his +place as manager. The suggestion came from Grandon +Fuller. Macon Hammerly opposed it.</p> + +<p>“I am told that Barton will sail shortly with a contingent +of our brave boys for the other side,” Mr. +Fuller declared pompously. “I fancy he has merely +neglected to resign in the stress of other business. +Mr. Mayberry has shown his ability and capacity for +management. I do not see why Brother Hammerly +should object.”</p> + +<p>“Patriotic reasons,” said the opposing member of +the board dryly. “I object to kicking a fellow out of +his job because he is going off to fight his country’s +battles. Let things rest as they are, Fuller.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean all through the war?” demanded +Mr. Fuller, with some heat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>“Why not? Frank Barton pulled this company +out of a slough of despond that pretty near swamped +us. If he comes back alive I, for one, want to see +him manager again.”</p> + +<p>“But what about Mr. Mayberry?”</p> + +<p>“How is <i>he</i> hurt?” snorted the old grain merchant. +“He’s sitting here, tight enough, while another man +is fighting in his place. The least he can do is to hold +Barton’s job for him.”</p> + +<p>That killed the suggestion for the time being. The +matter leaked out of the board room, however, and +Ethel Clayton heard of it. She wondered if, after +all, the Fullers were such good friends of Frank Barton +as they seemed to be.</p> + +<p>Likewise she began to wonder what would happen +to her if Jim Mayberry ever got the full power over +the office force that he had in the factory. He might +then discharge her on some easily trumped-up pretext. +The thought was not a pleasant one.</p> + +<p>Of late, on several occasions Mayberry had criticized +her work, especially her management of the +office staff. He aimed some shafts of his rough wit, +too, at Benway Chase, although he could find no +complaint to make in the new clerk’s work.</p> + +<p>For Benway really showed a remarkable aptitude +for his position. He was always energetic. When +a member of the shipping room force was away for +a while, Benway took on the duties of checker in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> +addition to his usual work, which latter he did not +in the least neglect.</p> + +<p>When Mayberry noticed this he said:</p> + +<p>“So you are out to master the whole business, are +you, Chase? Going to be the wheelhorse, driver and +spotted dog under the hind axle.”</p> + +<p>“I told you, Mr. Mayberry, I was out for your job,” +Benway said coolly. “Every little bit a fellow learns +puts him so much farther ahead.”</p> + +<p>“Think so, do you?” sneered the superintendent.</p> + +<p>But Ethel knew Benway was getting a firm grasp +on the details of the office work that made him exceedingly +useful. He very quietly relieved her of some of +the duties which had a way of falling upon her +shoulders.</p> + +<p>Barton had been in the habit of depending on her +bright mind and willingness to a great degree. Mayberry +deliberately shirked much of the routine work as +he could. And of course it all fell upon Ethel and +made her burden the heavier to bear. Sometimes +she was held at her post until long after the others +were gone for the day.</p> + +<p>Benway Chase would have remained to help or to +accompany her home on these occasions had she +allowed him to, and she had fairly to drive Little +Skinner home. The latter would have done all +Ethel’s work for her had she been able.</p> + +<p>“Take it from me!” the slangy Mabel declared. +“That Jim Mayberry lets you slave here while he’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> +playin’ poker down to the Bellevue or runnin’ about +the country in that flivver of his. I wish’t Mr. Barton +would come back. He wouldn’t see you abused. +Miss Clayton—’deed he wouldn’t!”</p> + +<p>Ethel had not heard from Barton since her visit +to the training camp, although she wrote to him +briefly each week as she had promised. Nothing +special had arisen in the daily affairs of the Hapwood-Diller +Company to cause her sufficient worry to +bring it to Barton’s notice. And with the little +trials, of course, she had no intention of troubling +him.</p> + +<p>Mailsburg’s first quota of drafted men marched past +the factory one day to the railway station. The +streets were lined with silent people for the most part. +But the buildings were cheerful with bunting and +flags. It was Ethel who insisted that the factory +front be decorated in addition to the great silk flag +which Barton had raised first with his own hands and +which John raised each morning and took in at night.</p> + +<p>Mayberry grudgingly shut down the shops for an +hour that the hands might cheer more than a hundred +of the drafted men who had left the Hapwood-Diller +Company to don the army khaki.</p> + +<p>Service flags began to appear all over the town +after that. Mrs. Trevor, Barton’s former landlady, +hung out one with a single star on it, and Ethel was +told that the grim old woman kept Barton’s chair +at the table for him and allowed nobody to sit in it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>Almost every day something happened to remind +Ethel that the war was coming closer and closer to her. +Her mother was knitting for the Red Cross. She +did not say much about this work save to mention +with a sniff that she hoped she could turn out as +good work as those snips of girls she saw knitting +in the cars and on the park benches.</p> + +<p>“And I expect to see them take those awful looking +knitting bags to church with them one of these days,” +was likewise Mrs. Clayton’s tart comment.</p> + +<p>One day Ethel saw Morry Copley in town. It was +while she was out to lunch and, without seeing her, +he bustled past so importantly that she could not +escape the thought that there must be something +afoot—perhaps some assignment of troops or officers +that affected Frank Barton as well. Morry wore the +insignia of a second-lieutenant.</p> + +<p>She hurried back to the office with the expectation +of seeing Barton. Surely he would not come to town +without looking in upon them! But the afternoon +dragged by without his appearance. She said nothing +to her office mates regarding her expectations.</p> + +<p>Each time the door opened she started and looked +up, expecting to see him—tall and handsome in his +khaki—enter the office. It made her nervous. There +were mistakes in her work that put her back so she +had to remain after hours again. When Benway +wanted to help her she snapped at him and sent that +surprised young man home “with a flea in his ear.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Barton had +been cooling his heels in the Fullers’ reception hall. +He had sent up his card to Helen and the maid had +come down to say that the young lady was very busy. +Would Monsieur wait?</p> + +<p>Monsieur would—most assuredly he would! He +had not seen or heard from Miss Fuller since the Sunday +on which both she and Ethel Clayton had chanced +to come to Camp Quehasset. And now, save for a +conference with Mr. Hammerly, he had sacrificed +most of his time in Mailsburg to speak confidentially +to Grandon Fuller’s daughter.</p> + +<p>He waited her pleasure with such patience as he +could master. He had come to think of Helen during +most of his waking hours. At least if his military +duties and studies were to the fore, the thought +of Helen was ever present in the back of his mind.</p> + +<p>She was going to France he knew; but he might +never see her over there. Just now he was feeling +very keenly the fact that he was assigned to the Front +and that he might, within a very short period, be in +desperate danger of death.</p> + +<p>A precious hour and more he waited. Occasionally +he saw a soft-footed serving man or a maid +pass his lonely alcove. Nobody spoke to him. Finally +the noise of a car under the porte-cochère awoke +hollow echoes. Immediately the sound of voices +came from above. Down the broad staircase tripped +Helen.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>“Oh, mercy <i>me</i>, Mr. Barton! Are <i>you</i> here? And +waiting <i>all</i> this time? That stupid maid! I was +so busy with my dressmaker that I could not possibly +come. And then—the maid never reminded me.”</p> + +<p>She might have delivered him a physical blow in +the face and he would have felt or shown it no more +keenly. She was gorgeous in frock and hat, and she +smiled upon him in her old alluring way. But his +spirit fell from its heights. A dressmaker had been +of more importance! She had depended upon her +maid to remind her that he was waiting to see her!</p> + +<p>“I hoped to see you for a few minutes, Miss Helen,” +he said quietly. “I am going away.”</p> + +<p>“Of course! So am I!” she cried. “But I must +be off now to the Northup’s dinner. The car is waiting. +It’s too late for me to refuse, Mr. Barton. +And there is a dance afterward that I positively +<i>must</i> look in at. Dear <i>me</i>! I’ll really be <i>glad</i> to be +over there and at work in a hospital. This running +around to dinners and dances and what Morry Copley +calls ‘tea-fights’, is just killing me.</p> + +<p>“Can’t I see you in the morning, Frank?”</p> + +<p>He wanted to tell her that in the morning he would +already be at sea. But that was forbidden.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not. I have to go back on the eight-ten.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Not so <i>soon</i>! Really?” There was much lacking +in her tone—much of warmth that he had expected.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +“Well, best of luck! Hope to see you ‘over there,’ +you know. Bye-bye!”</p> + +<p>She ran out to the car, turning to wave her hand +as she got in. And that after he had waited an hour! +Had Macon Hammerly been right after all? He had +said:</p> + +<p>“The Fullers only want you for what they can get +out of you. Grandon Fuller was never known yet +to do anything without a purpose behind it. Look +how he hung about Israel Diller—was right on the +spot when the old chap died. You don’t suppose +Diller made Grandon Fuller rich because he <i>deserved</i> +riches, do you?”</p> + +<p>His wasted hour caused Barton to miss the office +force at the factory; but he went that way to the station, +hoping to see Mayberry at least. His mastery +of the Hapwood-Diller Company’s affairs seemed a +long way behind him now. Indeed when a man faces +war the past grows small to him in any case. It is +what is going to happen to him that completely obsesses +his thought.</p> + +<p>Barton thrust his head in at the office door, having +opened it softly. A single strong light was ablaze +over Ethel Clayton’s desk. The remainder of the +room was in shadow.</p> + +<p>The girl had evidently finished the task that had +kept her so late, for her desk was cleared up and she +sat back in her chair, dreaming. Her gaze was fixed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> +on the door of the private office; but Frank Barton +could not see her face until he spoke.</p> + +<p>“Nobody here but you, Miss Clayton? I am certainly +glad to see you. All the rest gone?”</p> + +<p>She turned her face toward him slowly, appearing +not to be startled at all by his coming. “They are +all gone, Mr. Barton,” she said quietly, and reached +up quickly to turn the shade of the electric lamp so +that the light no longer fell on her face.</p> + +<p>“Mayberry gone, too?” he asked, coming in with +his hand held out.</p> + +<p>“He is out of town, I believe,” Ethel told him, her +voice unshaken, rising to meet him.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry I missed them all,” Barton said, grasping +her hand for a moment warmly. “You will +have to give them my regards and best wishes.”</p> + +<p>“Will you not stay over night?”</p> + +<p>“I fear that will be impossible. I am on my way +to catch the eight-ten.”</p> + +<p>“You are not going away <i>now</i>? Not for <i>good</i>?”</p> + +<p>Barton laughed. “I hope to come back safely,” he +said. “But this is good-bye for some time, Miss +Clayton——”</p> + +<p>He caught her arm and steadied her as she swung +against the desk. Her eyes closed and he saw suddenly +that she was very pale.</p> + +<p>“Are you faint? You’re working too hard!” he +cried. “Look here, Miss Clayton, you must take +better care of yourself. I shouldn’t feel half so safe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> +in going away if you were not right here on the job. +You’ve got to be good to yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I—I was a little faint. It’s all right, Mr. Barton,” +she murmured. “Nothing serious, I assure you. +I’m not one of the fainting kind, as you know.”</p> + +<p>“No indeed!” he cried admiringly. “I bank on +you and your very good sense, Miss Clayton. You +are not like other girls. I did not know for a moment +but that my announcement startled you. I should +have been flattered!” and he laughed.</p> + +<p>She was silent. He could not see her face well, for +she kept it turned from the lamp. Finally she said: +“Naturally I am troubled that you should be going—so +far away. Oh, this war is terrible, Mr. Barton!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. All wars have been terrible. The one that +touches you nearest seems the most terrible. But +after all, Miss Clayton, it doesn’t matter much how +one dies as long as death is inevitable.”</p> + +<p>“That is fatalism! Perhaps it is the right soldier +spirit,” she murmured. Then she turned to face him +again and her countenance was quietly radiant. “But +why should we who stop at home add to your burdens? +We should send you away with a smile.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder!” he exclaimed. “I wonder if we fellows +ought not to go away with a smile—to furnish those +we leave behind with courage? Those we leave behind +must do our work. War is waste, you know, +when all is said and done. I leave you, Miss Clayton, +to keep things straight here,” and he smiled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> +warmly again as his hand once more sought hers. +“Write to me,” and he told her how to address him +through the War Department. “Good-bye!”</p> + +<p>He wheeled swiftly and marched to the door. His +upright carriage and squared shoulders made his +back look almost strange to her. She stood before +the desk leaning against it, her hands clinging tightly +to its edge. Her knuckles were perfectly white from +the pressure of her hands upon the wood—that grasp +which actually kept her from falling.</p> + +<p>But her face showed none of her terror and weakness. +He turned at the door to smile and nod to her again. +The image he took away in his mind was of her perfectly +composed, smiling face. And again it was the +memory of Ethel Clayton, not of Helen Fuller, that +he carried away as the Girl He Left Behind.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br> + +<small>THE AWAKENING</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Frank Barton</span> had gone to the Front. He would +be where there was battle, murder, and sudden death! +War had become a horrid, living reality to Ethel +Clayton.</p> + +<p>She heard that Morrison Copley had been in +town to bid his mother good-bye and had gone away, +too, bound for the transport. Likewise that Charlie +Bradley, that hulking fellow who had been so notorious +about town, supposedly had sailed at the same +time Barton had gone to France.</p> + +<p>Ethel had occasion to pass the Fuller house within +the week. It was shuttered and empty looking. +The <i>Clarion</i> had told, in a column and a half, of the +last reception tendered Helen Fuller and her mother +before their departure. Grandon Fuller was living +at the Bellevue and seemed rather relieved than +otherwise, so people said, that his wife and daughter +had gone abroad.</p> + +<p>But Ethel did not scoff now—she had never done +so openly—at the idea of flighty Helen Fuller settling +down to Red Cross work. Secretly she wished that +she, too, were on the way to France. Suppose Frank +Barton should be wounded! Some woman would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> +attend him in the hospital. It might even fall to +Helen’s lot. Had Ethel gone to France it might be +her fate to nurse Barton.</p> + +<p>She felt a sudden and bitter distaste for her work +in the offices of the Hapwood-Diller Company. The +drab business affairs of every day disgusted her. +Although she neglected nothing, Ethel had no satisfaction +in what she did.</p> + +<p>The war filled more and more space in the daily +papers. But there was no news of the Rainbow +Division, with which it was believed Barton and the +other young officers from Mailsburg had sailed. +Everything was so secretly done!</p> + +<p>There was the story that sifted back from France +to the families of some of the soldiers of the unit from +the West, who thought they were bound for New +York by train, but who found themselves alighting +in New Orleans and going aboard the troop ships +there, to sail for southern France by the way of +Gibraltar.</p> + +<p>The fact that the country was honeycombed by +German and Austrian spies, and by those whom the +enemy’s money could buy, was becoming slowly a +settled conviction, even in Mailsburg. Those of +German birth and name would in time be ostracised. +It could not be helped. It was in the nature of +things.</p> + +<p>The man who in war time calls himself too broad-minded +to hate the enemy is often one who has not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> +yet awakened to the seriousness of war. The enemy-alien +in our midst should tremble for his personal +safety. Otherwise he becomes a menace.</p> + +<p>Just off Burnaby Street was a little shop where, +ever since Ethel was a child, had sat a little old German +cobbling shoes. He was a marked character +in this part of the town where the residents were +mostly of the old, native American stock.</p> + +<p>Somebody has said that the trade of tailor breeds +socialists and pessimists. So being a cobbler used +to breed philosophers of a kindly sort. Gessler had +been wont to hand out bits of homely and comfortable +philosophy with his mended shoes.</p> + +<p>The war had changed his attitude toward life, it +seemed. Until the United States had got into it he +had talked eagerly with everybody who would listen.</p> + +<p>The Kaiser he hated, for he was a “Prussian, +arrogant and brutal.”</p> + +<p>“My father used always to say that there would +be war if that bloodhound came to the throne!” +he frequently said. But he likewise was proud of +his race. “The whole world is fighting them and +can’t beat them already!” he cried.</p> + +<p>Now that his adopted country was arraigned against +the fatherland, Gessler was very glum and silent. +He did not have so much work as before; but he sat +all day on his cobbler’s bench, his hammer in his +hand, often staring out of the window with empty +eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>On her way to work one morning Ethel carried a +pair of shoes to be mended. But when she reached +the corner in sight of which the little German’s shop +stood, she hesitated. How could she approach Gessler +and speak to him with that pleasant familiarity +that had been her custom.</p> + +<p>She could think of him only now as an enemy. +Every German was an enemy! His countrymen in +their terrible undersea craft might sink the transport +upon which Frank Barton had sailed. The war had +come home to Ethel Clayton! It was real to her at +last, as it becomes real to everybody who has a personal +stake in it.</p> + +<p>She took the shoes to another cobbler and went +on her way to the office.</p> + +<p>These days Ethel was almost vexed with Benway +Chase because he continued to be so enthusiastic +about his work and interested in it. He never seemed +to flag in his tasks; and he might really be, as he had +laughingly said, fitting himself for Jim Mayberry’s +position.</p> + +<p>He spent most of his noon hour talking with the +foremen of the different shops. He learned much +about the practical working of the factory system; +yet he never neglected his own particular tasks.</p> + +<p>Mabel Skinner still considered Benway the most +wonderful young man who had ever crossed her path; +but she worshiped from afar. She did not dream +of preening her poor plumage to attract his notice;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> +yet when he smiled at her in good comradeship +Little Skinner was secretly in ecstasies.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” she confided to Boots, her errant brother, +on one occasion, “when Mr. Chase asked me did I +like flowers, an’ give me some of them late asters from +his mother’s garden, I almost swallowed my gum!”</p> + +<p>“Cracky!” scoffed Boots. “That poor fish? Why, +he ain’t got but one good wing!”</p> + +<p>“An’ he can put over a spitter with that that <i>you</i> +can’t hit, Smartie,” retorted his sister vigorously. +“And he’s a gentleman, Mr. Chase is!”</p> + +<p>“Cracky!” repeated Boots. “Seems to me, if I +was a girl I’d fall for a feller that could gimme something +besides a flower an’ a sweet smile. Like that +Jim Mayberry. He’s got a flivver and could take +you ridin’.”</p> + +<p>“He only took me once,” said Mabel complacently. +“And I guess he must have give you a ride in his +buzz-cart, too, that time, or you wouldn’t have give +me that dream about Jim and Sam Blaisdell of +Norville workin’ in cahoots against Mr. Barton.”</p> + +<p>“Huh! That warn’t no dream,” grumbled Boots. +“You think you’re allus so smart, Mab Skinner. I +heard ’em talkin’ all right ’bout how to do Mr. Barton. +And it had something to do with the Bogata +works down to Norville, just as I told you.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that egg never hatched, then,” declared his +dubious sister.</p> + +<p>They might have suspected the incubation of another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +egg had she known how often Jim Mayberry +was in consultation with Mr. Grandon Fuller these +days at the Bellevue, although Mabel Skinner of +course knew little about the inside affairs of the Hapwood-Diller +Company. It might have aroused any +person’s suspicions to mark the superintendent’s intimacy +with the largest stockholder of the concern.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fuller had not again suggested the removal of +Barton and the appointment of Mayberry as manager. +Indeed, with the former already out of the country +and in the Service, that change did not seem necessary +to the carrying to conclusion of any schemes +Mr. Fuller might have.</p> + +<p>Not that there was anything wrong showing on +the surface of affairs. The factory seemed to be running +quite as usual. But as the end of the business +year approached Ethel could not fail to note that the +reports on output were not so favorable as they had +been earlier in the year. As, of course, it was not +really within the compass of her work she could not +discover why this should be.</p> + +<p>From the very day Mayberry had been balked in +his endeavor to put the Bogata order through, the +tide of fortune for the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing +Company seemed to have turned. The superintendent +never spoke again about the Bogata Company +to Ethel. The latter knew, however, that Hammerly’s +prophecy regarding a receivership for that concern +had come true—and that before the new year.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>In the matter of the shop reports the girl was +puzzled and alarmed. It did not seem to be anybody’s +fault; certainly Mayberry did not neglect his +supervision of the factory, and most of the foremen +were old and faithful employees.</p> + +<p>The report of the corporation compared unfavorably +with the last report. A good deal of money was +tied up in raw material. Contracts unfilled and bills +not yet collectible were items that bulked big on +the wrong side of the ledger.</p> + +<p>The board voted the usual dividend; but the surplus +was much reduced thereby. And then, suddenly +and like the bursting of a bomb, trouble came.</p> + +<p>The Hapwood-Diller Company stock was listed in +the market; that is, it was traded in by the curb +brokers both in State and Broad Streets. One morning +Hammerly came raging into the offices, his +<i>Financial Gazette</i> in his hand, his spectacles pushed +up to the line of his grizzled hair, and his eyes fairly +snapping.</p> + +<p>“What’s the meaning of this, I want to know?” +he cried, shaking the financial sheet under Jim Mayberry’s +nose as that young man appeared from the +manager’s office. “Do you know anything about +this?”</p> + +<p>“About what, Mr. Hammerly?”</p> + +<p>“This trading in Hapwood-Diller shares? It’s been +going on for a week, I understand. Yesterday three +hundred shares was sold for eighty-nine—eleven<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> +points off. Never heard of such a thing! Who’s +selling?”</p> + +<p>“Why, bless your heart, Mr. Hammerly,” said the +superintendent, “I don’t know. I own only fifty +shares and I haven’t sold them, I can assure you.”</p> + +<p>“Some tarnal fool is dumping his shares on the market, +and at a bad time. Right after such a poor showing +as was made by our last report. If Frank Barton +was on the job such a report would never have been +made.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry flushed. “No man can make bricks +without straw, Mr. Hammerly,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Huh?” snorted the grain dealer. “Who ever +told you they made bricks of straw? That’s about +all you know, Jim Mayberry. They make bricks +with clay around these parts. You ain’t in Egypt. +But that ain’t neither here nor there. This here +selling of shares—and maybe these were only wash +sales?” added the suspicious old man. “Here! let +me see the stock book, Mayberry.”</p> + +<p>“Ask Ethel for that,” returned the superintendent +sharply, and, turning on his heel, walked away.</p> + +<p>Mr. Hammerly looked after him with lowering +brow. “Ha!” he muttered, “mighty independent of +a sudden. Now, I wonder what that means?”</p> + +<p>But he was as pleasant as usual with Ethel. Macon +Hammerly approved of her. He retired to a corner +seat to study the list of names to whom stock, at the +reorganization after Israel’s Diller’s death, had been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> +issued. Most of the local owners of the shares had +clung to all their original allotment, even through +the depression at the beginning of the war before +Frank Barton had been elevated to the management +of the concern’s affairs.</p> + +<p>The Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company had +always been a very close corporation. There were +some Diller and Hapwood heirs in the West and South +who had traded off their shares in the corporation; +but nobody knew better than Mr. Macon Hammerly +just where those shares lay. At least, up to this date +he thought he knew where the bulk of them were.</p> + +<p>The next shock to the working force of the Company, +as well as to the board, was the turning back +of the entire order billed to the Kimberly Binding +Company. The order amounted to twelve thousand +dollars. The goods were not according to specifications.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry denied all responsibility for this +error. The Kimberly order had been received and +the contract signed by Barton. Mayberry showed +that the shop sheets covering the contract had been +followed exactly by the workmen. The duplicates of +these papers in the office were the same as the working +plans in every particular.</p> + +<p>But the Kimberly Company produced its copy of +the specifications with two differences in it, one of +dimension and the other of quality, changes which +made the finished product absolutely useless to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> +Kimberly people. Or for anybody else, for that matter! +The product could merely go into the scrap +heap.</p> + +<p>There was a live tilt in the board meeting that day +between Mr. Grandon Fuller and his followers, and +Mr. Macon Hammerly. Ethel was in and out of the +room to take dictation, and to furnish books and figures +when required, so she heard much of the wrangle.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry sat sullenly in his place at the table +and had only one declaration to repeat: It was not +up to him! Mr. Fuller did most of the talking.</p> + +<p>Barton’s name was signed to the Kimberly schedule. +He had O. K.’d it. Two bad errors had crept +into the specifications and the now absent manager +had overlooked them.</p> + +<p>“And he was <i>absent</i>, all right, before ever he left +here,” Fuller scoffed. “Absent in his mind if not in +body. And his absent-mindedness has cost us a +pretty penny. I can see right now that this board +will have to pass the next dividend.”</p> + +<p>The very next day a block of five thousand shares +sold in Boston for eighty-seven and a half and two +hundred in the New York market for eight-seven flat.</p> + +<p>One evening Ethel came home from work to be +greeted by her mother in a flurried state of mind.</p> + +<p>“Good land, Ethel! What’s the matter with the +Hapwood-Diller Company now? I feared how it +would be if Frank Barton went away.”</p> + +<p>Ethel keenly remembered her mother’s expressed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +doubt of Mr. Barton’s having much to do with the +prosperity of the concern. Now she asked Mrs. +Clayton:</p> + +<p>“What do you think is the matter at the factory? +I don’t know what you mean.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I want to know! And you working right +there, too. Here this little lawyer comes around and +offers me a ridiculous price for our shares——”</p> + +<p>“What lawyer?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know him. He says he’s from New York. +Here’s his card,” and she handed to Ethel a card on +which was engraved “A. Schuster, Atty.” and an +address in a Wall Street building.</p> + +<p>“Anyway, he seems to think he can buy our stock +for sixty-five dollars. That’s all he’ll offer and he +just laughed and laughed when I told him the shares +of the Hapwood-Diller Company had never been +worth less than a hundred dollars apiece since they +were printed.”</p> + +<p>“What did he say to that?” asked her more than +curious daughter.</p> + +<p>“He declared sixty-five was better than it would +sell in the market in a month, unless the company +was reorganized and put on a paying basis. I wonder +what Grandon Fuller or Hammerly would say +to that? And you ought to know the truth, Ethel,” +added the worried woman. “Aren’t things going +right in the office now that Frank Barton’s gone +away?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>“There is nothing to worry over,” her daughter said +stoutly.</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s what I told that little lawyer,” Mrs. +Clayton declared. “I said we’d just got our dividend +check same’s usual, and he said—What do you suppose +he said?”</p> + +<p>“I have no idea,” confessed Ethel.</p> + +<p>“That it would be the last one we’d get for many a +long day. Can that be so, Ethel? I don’t know +what we should do if our income from those shares +your great-uncle Diller left us should be cut off.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t worry, Mother,” Ethel said composedly.</p> + +<p>Yet this was only one of the many things she began +to hear which suggested a coming catastrophe to the +Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br> + +<small>BENWAY’S DISCOVERY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benway Chase</span> was to prepare a copy of the faulty +specification sheet of the Kimberly Binding Company’s +order, to be attached to the report on that +unfortunate affair filed in the records of the board’s +proceedings.</p> + +<p>Ethel had not discussed the unfortunate matter with +Benway, or with anybody else. That Frank Barton +could have allowed such an error—two such errors, +indeed—to escape his notice was scarcely in accord +with her belief in the general manager’s perspicacity. +Her lips merely tightened when anybody mentioned +the tragic happening within her hearing.</p> + +<p>For it was indeed tragic. Rumors that the factory +output was falling behind and that the Hapwood-Diller +Company was facing a situation similar to that +which had threatened it when Frank Barton had first +taken hold as manager, reached Ethel’s ears from all +sides.</p> + +<p>Although she could not understand how this mistake +in the Kimberly order could have happened, +she accepted the claim of the ordering company as +honestly made, and that without question. The +Kimberly Company was not a second Bogata concern.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +They wanted the goods ordered and were +amply able to pay for them. The mistakes in the +specifications made much trouble for the purchasing +corporation as well as for the Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p>This schedule from the Kimberly Binding Company +had been copied in duplicate in the Hapwood-Diller +Company’s office, one copy with Frank Barton’s +name upon it being returned to the ordering +firm, the other filed where only properly accredited +members of the Hapwood-Diller Company’s office +force supposedly were able to get at it.</p> + +<p>The question as to how the two items on the schedule +came to be different from those on the sheet sent +back to the Kimberly Company bulked just as big in +Ethel’s mind as the similar question regarding the +Bogata Company’s order. She felt that the same +treacherous hand was to be suspected.</p> + +<p>It was not Frank Barton’s fault. Of this she was +confident. But she could not put an accusing finger +on any person. That there was a traitor in the Hapwood-Diller +office went without saying. This time +Mr. Barton was too far away for her to discuss the +point with him, and Hammerly gave her no opportunity +of speaking her mind.</p> + +<p>Benway came with the copy he was making of the +faulty schedule and placed it before her. He was +transcribing the paper in his own very exact, upright +handwriting. But he had made a mistake.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>“Do you think that will be noticed, Ethel?” he +asked with a measure of suppressed excitement that +she did not at first notice. “See where I made a bull—and +used the acid to take the ink out?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, Benway; I see it—now that you call +my attention to it. But really you have made the +correction very neatly. I think it will be all right. +The paper only shines a little on the surface where +you erased the ink marks with the acid.”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it, Ethel,” he hissed, close to her ear. +“The erasing fluid leaves the surface of this sort of +paper glossy. Now look at this!”</p> + +<p>He plumped the document he was copying—the +schedule in which the two errors had been found—under +her eye.</p> + +<p>“Why, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“See anything wrong about those two mysterious +lines?” he demanded, and now she marked his excitement.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Benway! That’s been all gone over. You +can see there have been no changes made in this +original paper. There is no more shine to the surface +where those two errors stand than elsewhere. +<i>That</i> was taken up in board meeting. I heard them +discuss it. And I studied it myself. No. There +have surely been no erasures.”</p> + +<p>“Sure?”</p> + +<p>“You are very obstinate, Benway!” exclaimed +Ethel impatiently.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“But look,” he whispered. “Here!” He snapped on +the electric light over her desk. “Look at those +places on the slant—with the glare of the light on +them. Don’t you see that the paper has been roughened +under those two faulty lines—and nowhere else +on the sheet? And see again! Under the electric +light the surface of the paper seems bluer at those +places than anywhere else. That is a good quality +of paper, too.”</p> + +<p>“Is—isn’t it a chance discoloration?” murmured +the girl.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think that’s far-fetched?” demanded +Benway. “Two blue blots—and just where those +wrong items are written?”</p> + +<p>“Could they have been caused by drops of water?”</p> + +<p>“Huh! Drops of something!” growled Benway. +“I own to that belief. But never water. Here! +Use this reading glass. Don’t you see the raw fibre +of the paper? The surface has been scratched just +where those wrong items stand. Not by the sort of +erasing fluid we use in this office; but by some means. +What do you think?”</p> + +<p>Ethel passed the sensitive tips of her fingers lightly +over the indicated spots on the sheet. It seemed to +her that she could feel the slight roughness of the +paper that Benway indicated so assuredly.</p> + +<p>“You go back and finish your job, Benway,” she told +him finally. “Then bring me this original. Understand? +Say nothing to anybody else about it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>“Sure!” he returned, his eyes snapping.</p> + +<p>“Then if you are asked about it,” she added quietly, +“you may say that you gave me the paper and know +nothing at all about it.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her with more seriousness.</p> + +<p>“Say, are you figuring on getting into trouble +with——”</p> + +<p>Ethel held up her hand. “You are not supposed +to figure on this at all. Just do as I say, Benway.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! All right, Ma’am,” he said with a mocking +little smile and a twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>Even he did not wholly understand the seriousness +of the discovery; but Ethel appreciated it fully. +When he brought the original sheet of specifications +back to her she hid it in her dress and at noon instead +of going to lunch she caught a southbound car and +rode to the Stone Bridge.</p> + +<p>On either side of the creek there were docks and +warehouses; but Macon Hammerly’s general store +and row of storehouses for feed and grain and such +other things as he dealt in were beyond the bridge +and some distance along what was called the Creek +Road. The Creek Road debouched into the fanning +country that adjoined Mailsburg somewhat abruptly, +at the south end of the town.</p> + +<p>Really, Mr. Hammerly was a country merchant, +always had been such, and always would be. He had +come into possession of his father’s store when he +was a young man, and it was said that his grandfather<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> +had first engaged in business—the trading of +general merchandise for pelts and farm produce—on +this very spot. However, the Macon Hammerly +store and warehouses were well known over a large +area.</p> + +<p>Being on the edge of the city the farming people +were likely to trade with him largely. And yet he +was not considered a “good fellow.” He was too +sharp and severe in his business methods.</p> + +<p>To his docks the sluggishly moving canal-boats +came bringing grain and feed and coal and other merchandise +that he dealt in more largely. And he was +a wholesale dealer in many articles that other merchants +in Mailsburg sold at retail. For one thing, +his was the largest seed house in the county.</p> + +<p>Ethel hurried over the arch of the Stone Bridge +and down the narrow, bricked walk across from the +head of the several docks and the doors of the warehouses +upon them. This was an old, old part of +the town; indeed, it had been known as Stone Bridge +once; but Mailsburg had grown out to it and had +all but enveloped it with new buildings and better +streets. Only down the Creek Road the land still +was checkered with open fields and patches of wood.</p> + +<p>Before the weather-beaten building in which was +Macon Hammerly’s general store, was a wide, roofed +porch. Several bewhittled armchairs, just “wabbly” +enough to be comfortable, stood about upon the +platform. Sometimes these were filled with Hammerly’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +ancient cronies—cynics of a former generation +who had been in this world so long that they +seemed to believe they knew better how to run it +than Omnipotence!</p> + +<p>Mr. Hammerly was alone at one end of the porch. +This was egg-buying day, and as he dealt largely +in eggs—shipping quantities to the larger cities—the +old man usually looked after the buying while +his clerks packed the boxes inside.</p> + +<p>Hammerly believed if a thing was worth doing +at all it was worth doing well. Likewise he believed +in that other old saw relative to a man’s doing anything +himself if he wanted to be sure it was done +right. He could not do everything of importance +about his store and warehouses; but he could—and +did—buy eggs.</p> + +<p>He watched the farmers and their wives cannily +as they brought their baskets up to the platform. +He handled many of the eggs himself. It was his +inflexible rule to refuse all pullet eggs, and he had +always in his pocket a wooden curtain-pole ring of a +certain size. If an egg would slip through that, it +was discarded.</p> + +<p>Ethel chanced to arrive at a moment when there +was a let-up in the activities of egg buying. The +grain dealer pushed up his spectacles with that +familiar gesture of his and grinned at the girl.</p> + +<p>“You ain’t come away down here on no party +call, Ethel?” he said questioningly. “You know I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +ain’t in the swagger set, and I don’t serve pink tea +here.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” she said, smiling in spite of her serious +mood. “I know you are a perfect barbarian.”</p> + +<p>The man chuckled, but said only:</p> + +<p>“Heard from Frank Barton yet?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir!”</p> + +<p>“I got you beat, then,” he said, with twinkling eye. +“Not direct; but from Washington. Got a friend +there and he’s kept me posted. The troop ship +<i>Tecumseh</i> got over safely—as they all did, in fact. +Them German undersea boats seem to have been +too far under the sea to catch ’em. Frank’s safe in +France.”</p> + +<p>“Until he gets into the trenches,” said the girl +bitterly.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you be like these other folks, Ethel. Grouchers, +every one! Knocking the war, and looking on +the black side of every cloud instead of on the silver. +The good Lord knows I’m no optimist by nature; but +these are the times when every one of us should +stretch our cheerfulness to the breaking point.</p> + +<p>“Frank’s going to be all right. He’s going to do +his duty, and he’s going through with it all and come +back to us. That’s my belief, Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Hammerly! I hope you are right.”</p> + +<p>“If things go as smooth here with us as they do +over there with him,” he added, with twinkling eyes, +“I reckon all will be well.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>“Oh, Mr. Hammerly!” she exclaimed again, “things +are not going smoothly here. At least, not with +the Hapwood-Diller Company.”</p> + +<p>“So that’s what brings you down here? I ain’t so +flattered as I was, Ethel,” he said good-naturedly. +“Let’s hear your trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you mustn’t think I’m not glad to see you,” +she said, hurriedly.</p> + +<p>“O’ course you’re glad,” he said, with something +of a grin on his wrinkled face. He stroked his chin +reflectively. “Great times these, an’ no mistake. +If I was only younger——”</p> + +<p>“You’d get into the war, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“Certain sure, I would. An’ you would, too, if +you was a young man.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps—I really don’t know—it’s all so +horrible.”</p> + +<p>“So ’tis, an’ that German Kaiser has got a pile +to answer for, believe me. But now to business. +Tell me what’s wrong.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure that it’s really wrong. But it looks +queer to me.”</p> + +<p>“I see. Got some papers, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s see ’em.”</p> + +<p>She displayed the specification sheet and explained +hurriedly Benway’s discovery. The appearance of +erasure in two places on the document seemed plainer +to Ethel each time she looked at it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>“I dunno,” drawled Hammerly, at first doubtful. +But the longer he looked at the two bluish marks +the more deeply he was impressed with the significance +of them. “Can it be that we’ve got him at last?” +he finally questioned vigorously.</p> + +<p>“<i>Him?</i>” repeated Ethel, curiously.</p> + +<p>“There’s a dirty traitor in this business, Ethel,” +declared the grain dealer.</p> + +<p>“Who do you think it is? Jim Mayberry?” she +asked outright.</p> + +<p>“He never did this,” declared Hammerly with +emphasis. “He wouldn’t have brains enough. That’s +scarcely seeable, that rubbing out. And see how +close the handwriting has been copied.</p> + +<p>“I see. That is Josephine Durand’s work—the +original writing of the sheet, I mean. We never use +the typewriter on these specification papers, because +of the uneven ruling. She wrote both this and the +copy that went back to the Kimberly people with +Mr. Barton’s name on it.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” growled Hammerly, still staring closely +at the paper.</p> + +<p>“And Josephine is perfectly trustworthy, I am +sure. Besides, it does not seem possible that Mr. +Barton did not closely compare the two papers. +Those figures were changed, I am sure, after Mr. +Barton left.”</p> + +<p>“Not a doubt on it! Not a doubt on it!” agreed +Hammerly. “I’ve seen something like this afore,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> +he added, more to himself than to the girl. “You let +me keep this paper, Ethel. We’ll see. How’s your +ma?”</p> + +<p>“Worried a good deal, Mr. Hammerly. That lawyer +who came around to buy her shares in the Hapwood-Diller +Company really scared mother.”</p> + +<p>“What lawyer?” snapped Macon Hammerly, instantly +interested.</p> + +<p>Ethel told of the incident and gave Mr. Hammerly +the name and address of the attorney, Mr. Schuster. +“I believe he did secure a few shares from some of the +small stockholders,” Ethel said. “You know Abel +Rawlins had seven shares and Mrs. Henry Cutt a +dozen. They sold, mother says, and she is worried +for fear the company is going to smash and we may +lose everything.”</p> + +<p>“How many’s she got, Ethel?” asked the old man, +a heavy frown on his brow. And when Ethel told +him, he added: “So? Israel Diller ought to’ve done +better by her than that. She was just as close’t +kin to the old man as Grandon Fuller’s wife.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we won’t talk about that,” said Ethel, with a +gesture of dismissal. “What is done, is done.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! Mebbe! If it stays done!” grunted Macon +Hammerly. “But it’s been ten years and more now, +ain’t it? Well! Howsomever, you let me keep this +paper a spell and see if I can make anything out of it. +I want to compare it with something I saw once—an’ +had suspicions about.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>He bought no more eggs personally that day—and +probably some of pullet size slipped by. Instead, +when Ethel left him, he walked up into the business +section of High Street and there, near the court-house, +went into the office of Alfred Gainor, who, as Mr. +Mestinger’s chief clerk, had fallen heir to most of +his clients and their business when the older attorney +died.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mestinger had been the legal adviser of Israel +Diller and had drawn the latter’s will.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br> + +<small>FROM “OVER THERE”</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ethel Clayton</span> went away from her interview +with Macon Hammerly cheered upon one particular +point at least. His outlook upon the chance for +Frank Barton’s continued safety, even if he was in +France, was helpful. And she knew the old grain +merchant had Barton’s well-being at heart.</p> + +<p>Crabbed as he was with most people, Macon Hammerly +had always betrayed his interest in the general +manager of the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company +and his regard for him. He sometimes said, +in his rough way, that he kept Frank’s welfare in +mind because the young fellow did not know enough +to look out for himself. Ethel knew, however, that +Hammerly had not been speaking carelessly about +the absent Barton.</p> + +<p>The latter was over the sea in safety, and the girl +was devoutly thankful for it. Indeed she added +that thanksgiving to her prayers before retiring. But +she longed to hear personally from Barton. She had +already written him three letters since she had last +seen him, all addressed as he had told her; but they +had brought no replies.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>As before, while he was in the training camp, her +letters were mostly regarding office incidents which +she knew he would be interested in. But she had +said nothing about the threatened trouble and loss +to the company through the mistake in the Kimberly +Binding Company order. Let somebody else +tell the absent soldier that misfortune. Ethel was +determined to put nothing in her letters that was +not cheerful.</p> + +<p>She learned very quickly, as thousands of other +people were learning just at that time, how particularly +hard it is to write cheerfully to the men at war. +The very fact of sitting down to write to a soldier on +active duty calls up before the mind a picture too +terrible to be ignored.</p> + +<p>How do we know the letter will ever reach the one +addressed? What peril may he not face before our +written words reach France and be delivered to him?</p> + +<p>In Ethel Clayton’s case, too, the pang of jealousy +was not lacking. She realized that her feeling for +Frank Barton was not reciprocated. He had never +given her the least cause to believe that he had other +than the merest feeling of comradeship for her. +Whereas it was plain that for Grandon Fuller’s +daughter he experienced a much deeper regard. +Nevertheless Ethel was jealous of Helen Fuller.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton thought her daughter was working +too hard, and that business worries depressed her.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> +Benway Chase, too, noted her wan look and increasing +pallor.</p> + +<p>“You’re overdoing it, Ethel,” he said one bleak +evening when they were walking home together.</p> + +<p>“Overdoing <i>what</i>?” and her tone of voice admonished +him that she did not welcome his interference. +Yet he persevered:</p> + +<p>“You needn’t get mad. You shoulder too much +responsibility—and for that oaf, Jim Mayberry. +Let him do some of his own work.”</p> + +<p>She became gentler at once. Ben did not suspect +why she so willingly took upon herself the extra tasks. +It was for the absent Barton that she worked so +hard, not for the manager <i>pro tem</i>. If he was spared +to come back to Mailsburg and the Hapwood-Diller +Company, Ethel was going to do all she could to +hold his job for him!</p> + +<p>“Somebody must do these things, Benway,” she +said quietly. “I am in a responsible position. From +the very fact I am a woman, more is expected of me +if I would hold up my end of the work and satisfy +everybody. And if I do not look after the tags of +work in the office, who will?”</p> + +<p>“‘Tags of work!’” quoted Benway with emphatic +disgust. “If <i>that</i> were only it! Oh, Ethel! I wish I +could do it for you.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Benway.”</p> + +<p>“And you won’t even let me help,” he complained. +“You don’t even talk to me about your troubles.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> +Why Ethel! I seem even less your friend now that I +am in the office with you than I used to be.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness, Benway!” she exclaimed with renewed +impatience, “you can’t expect to take my personal +troubles or my work on your shoulders.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” he demanded tenderly. “You know +it’s what I’d love to do. Oh, I wish I had a million +and could take you out of all this! That’s what I +wish, Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t want to give up my work, Benway. +Nor do I want to be rich. At least, I never have +thought of being wealthy. And a million——”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’d get along with even less,” he admitted +drolly. “All I really long for is a loaf, a jug of wine, +a flivver, and thou.”</p> + +<p>“My dear boy,” she declared briskly, “you’ll get +your first three wishes much easier than you will +your fourth. Leave me out of the category, please.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go off in a flivver with any man +and a loaf of bread and a wine jug. I am wedded +to my work. I love it. It’s just as much my life +as it is yours. I have never looked upon my work +as a mere stop-gap between high school or college +and the wedded state—as is so often the case with +girls. <i>This is my job</i>, and I have no right to expect +you, or anybody else, Benway, to ease it for me.”</p> + +<p>He looked at her aggrieved. “Is it always going +to be so, Ethel?”</p> + +<p>“I expect it will be always so,” she returned with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +less vehemence. “I am not a marrying girl, Bennie. +I wish you’d get that into your handsome head. Get +interested in some other girl—do!”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! Who told you you were not a marrying +girl?” he demanded, chuckling. “Wait till the right +knock comes on the door.”</p> + +<p>“I shan’t hear it. I shall be too busy.”</p> + +<p>He was more serious for a moment.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps there is danger of that. I’ve been knocking +myself ever since I can remember, and I get +mighty little response.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t waste your time, Bennie,” she said bruskly. +“I tell you frankly: Marriage is the last thing I expect +to accomplish.”</p> + +<p>“You’re wrong. It’s death that is the last thing +for us all. But you can’t break down my hopes, +Ethel. I shall continue to knock.”</p> + +<p>Somehow this insistence of Benway’s irritated Ethel +more than usual. She was almost sorry she had ever +urged Mr. Barton to take him into the offices, for +the young fellow too plainly betrayed his interest +in her.</p> + +<p>It was bad enough for Sydney and the others to +note the fact that Benway was always ready to run +her errands or otherwise be at her beck and call; but +Jim Mayberry made his uncouth comments upon it +too.</p> + +<p>“You have him trained like a little curly dog, +haven’t you?” the superintendent sneered one day,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +when Benway had anticipated some need of Ethel’s. +“He fetches and carries better than a retriever. Is +he good for anything else?”</p> + +<p>“You had better ask Sydney if he does his work +if you are afflicted with blindness yourself, Mr. Mayberry,” +she said tartly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m not too blind to see there are a good many +things going dead wrong in this office,” Mayberry +growled. “But I’m not having my way here. We +are under petticoat rule, it seems.”</p> + +<p>Such hints as this had previously warned Ethel +to keep still. Being unable to have his way with her, +Jim Mayberry would be glad to find cause for bringing +her before the Board of Directors for dismissal. +She felt all the time that if he ever did have the backing +of the Board members he would make quick +changes in the office.</p> + +<p>She knew herself to be in an uncertain situation. +Really, she would have done better for her future +perhaps if she had looked about for another position. +Her record with the Hapwood-Diller Company, if +she left of her own volition, would obtain her work +elsewhere.</p> + +<p>But she could not do this. Tacitly she had promised +to remain “on the job.” Barton expected it of +her. He had frankly said he felt secure in leaving the +company and going away because she would be there. +She was “the girl he left behind.” He depended +upon her to keep things straight. And perhaps,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> +more than Frank Barton suspected, it was Ethel +who could hold his position for him until he returned +from France.</p> + +<p>If he ever did return! This thought scarified her +mind continually. It seemed just as though every +German gun and every German bayonet were pointed +straight at the general manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company. How could he escape with his life?</p> + +<p>And then the letter came—the letter she had longed +for. When John tumbled it out of his bag upon +her desk with the others, Ethel could not suppress +a little scream, for she saw it first of all. Little Skinner +and Josephine heard her and came running.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Ethel?” demanded the latter.</p> + +<p>“It’s a mouse, I bet!” said Skinner. “Some o’ +them boys been playing a joke on you, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“Why, is it only a letter?” queried the other +stenographer. “How you startled me.”</p> + +<p>“It’s enough to startle anybody,” declared Ethel, +making the best of a bad matter. “It’s from Mr. +Barton.”</p> + +<p>At that announcement even Sydney left his desk +to draw near. Ethel’s heart beat a warm alarm, +but she could not get out of opening and reading the +missive there and then. Of course he would say +nothing in it that the office force could not safely +hear. She knew it would be merely a kindly message +for all. She wished—oh, how deeply!—that it might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> +be of so intimate a nature that she could not read it +aloud to them.</p> + +<p>He was within sound of the guns at the Front +already. No locality was particularized, for that +would have been censored, but if he could hear the +heavy cannonade from his training camp it would +not be long before his battalion would be marching +into the trenches.</p> + +<p>No fear for the future was breathed through Barton’s +chatty, friendly letter. He gave such a picture +of the camp, and the boys in khaki, and the +people about them, that even Sydney—his face working +spasmodically—clenched his fist and muttered:</p> + +<p>“By heaven! how I wish I was over there with +him.”</p> + +<p>Benway’s eyes shone, too; and Mabel Skinner expressed +for the hundredth time the desire she had to +be a boy.</p> + +<p>“Why, I tell Boots that if I was him I’d run away +and swear I was nineteen and enlist.”</p> + +<p>“It’s tough on you, Skinner,” drawled Jim Mayberry, +who chanced to be passing through and heard +this outbreak. “Nothing but a pair of trousers between +you and glory.”</p> + +<p>Little Skinner remembered that it was in office +hours, so she made no retort. Otherwise Mayberry +would never have got away with it, as she declared +afterward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>However, she was really trying to eschew rudeness, +especially within the hearing of Benway Chase. +Once or twice, as Ethel would not let him hang +around for her after hours, Benway had walked along +with Mabel. The girl had been delighted by these +attentions. She began to dress more quietly and +gradually the startled expression left her face, for +she learned to arrange her hair more tastefully. Her +improvement was marked enough for others besides +Ethel to notice it.</p> + +<p>“By jove!” ejaculated Sydney, “our Skinner is +coming into her own. She looks more like a girl +should and less like a boy dressed up in girl’s togs.”</p> + +<p>It was only Ethel, however, who suspected why +Mabel was changing both in manner and in appearance. +That the girl worshiped Benway Chase from +afar Ethel did not doubt; but at first she was not sure +that she approved. Little Skinner came from such +a very poor and “shiftless” family. Should Benway +look on Mabel with favor, Ethel feared that his mother +would be horror-stricken. Yet Ethel had told Benway +she would be glad to see him interested in some +other girl.</p> + +<p>If Barton’s letter did not cheer Ethel in large measure +it linked her more closely to the war and its activities. +Hard as she had to work in the offices, she +found time to be active in the local Red Cross chapter +to which she belonged.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>She insisted, too, in buying several of the second +issue of Liberty Bonds, although Mrs. Clayton was +not in favor of her so doing.</p> + +<p>“We have all the stocks and bonds and such things +we can afford,” the troubled woman declared. “If +the Hapwood-Diller stock is going downhill (and they +tell me the Board will really pass the next dividend) +we’ll have to dig right into our little bank account, +or else live as poor as church mice.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s not as bad as that, Mother,” the girl +declared. “I have a steady income, you must remember—and +that’s a good deal.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but not as much as it ought to be. I declare, +in these times, with prices of everything going +up, wages should be about doubled.”</p> + +<p>“If we doubled on the wages, we’d have to close +down.”</p> + +<p>“But you didn’t have to take more bonds.”</p> + +<p>“I thought it was our patriotic duty to do that.”</p> + +<p>“Let them do it that have more than we have, +Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“I think everybody ought to do all he or she can.”</p> + +<p>“Well, maybe. But it’s hard on poor folks. And +there’s another thing,” added Mrs. Clayton suddenly.</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“I never did see such times! I couldn’t get sugar +at all to-day; though that trouble’s ’most over, they +say. And if we didn’t have coal in our cellar we’d<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> +go without a fire, I guess. You’d better hang on to +what money you’ve got, Ethel.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to know who’s been talking to you again +about the company being in difficulties!” her daughter +said sharply. “It’s not so.”</p> + +<p>“They tell me the shares are selling as low as +seventy-five in Boston. Flory Diller’s all of a twitter +about selling. She wants to buy a piano player, +anyway; and if she sells her shares the money will +belong to her and never mind what John says, she’ll +have that player.”</p> + +<p>“It is such foolish people as Flory that make all +the trouble,” grumbled Ethel. “I wish you would +not listen to them, Mother.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br> + +<small>THE CLOUDS THICKEN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">News</span> of the first raid against American troops in +the trenches appeared in the newspapers. There +were but three deaths and a few captured and missing; +but the fact that a part of the American contingent +had been really in action could not fail to +fire the imagination and swell patriotic hearts on +this side of the ocean.</p> + +<p>But to Ethel, when she read, the three stark bodies +laid to rest on November the fourth in a little French +village far back of the lines loomed a more important +thing than all else. To her troubled mind it was +only pitiful—not great—that a French general should, +standing at salute beside those graves, say: “In the +name of France, I thank you. God receive your +souls. Farewell!” Nor did it bring aught but tears +to her eyes to read the translation of the inscription +put at the foot of these graves:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p>“Here lie the first soldiers of the great Republic +of the United States who died on the soil of France +for Justice and Liberty, November 3, 1917.”</p> +</div> + +<p>No. She could not yet feel the exaltation of spirit +that had seized Frank Barton and thousands of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> +others in these early months of the war. She had +begun to feel her duty toward it, but she deplored +the fact of war and could not yet believe in the necessity +for it.</p> + +<p>It was all a horrid nightmare. The shocking fact +that men were being shot down, killed or maimed, +still usurped all other thought regarding it in her +mind. Even Frank Barton’s letter, in which he pictured +the conditions in France and something of +what he had already seen of the effect of the German +invasion, inspired Ethel with nothing but fear for +his safety.</p> + +<p>He should be back in Mailsburg and at his desk +in the Hapwood-Diller Company offices. That is +the way she saw it. And especially now, for Ethel +felt that there was some underhand work going on +that she could not fathom.</p> + +<p>Since taking the Kimberly Binding Company schedule +to Mr. Hammerly she had heard nothing from +the grain merchant. Nor had she seen him. But +Mr. Grandon Fuller came to confer with Jim Mayberry +one day, and when the latter sent out for Ethel +to come into the private office the girl intuitively +knew that immediate trouble was brewing.</p> + +<p>But she entered the room with perfect composure. +Fuller, lounging in his chair, looked at her with +heavily lidded eyes. He left the talking at first to +Mayberry, and the latter was brusk indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>“Where’s that specification sheet of the Kimberly +order, Ethel?”</p> + +<p>“There is a copy of it attached to the report made +for the Board, Mr. Mayberry,” she said quietly.</p> + +<p>“I want the original. I can’t find it on file,” +snapped Mayberry.</p> + +<p>“I do not know where it is,” she told him quite +promptly.</p> + +<p>“What! You don’t know whether it is in the office +or not?”</p> + +<p>“It is not in the office at present. Where it is I +do not know. But the copy is exact. Isn’t that +sufficient?”</p> + +<p>“You know well enough it isn’t what I want,” said +the superintendent roughly. “You are taking too +much upon yourself, Ethel. You gave that paper +to Hammerly.”</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Let me tell you that he isn’t manager here——”</p> + +<p>“Nor are you, Mr. Mayberry. I prefer not to be +spoken to in this manner. I saw no reason to +refuse Mr. Hammerly permission to examine the +paper. If Mr. Fuller had asked for it I should have +considered it quite proper to hand it to him.”</p> + +<p>She knew well enough by the expression upon the +stockholder’s countenance that she had hit the bull’s-eye. +But Mayberry, red-faced and blustering, declared:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>“You usurp too much power here, Ethel. It has +annoyed me before. I may not be manager in name; +but if I can’t be boss of the works without a girl’s +interference, I’ll throw up the job entirely.”</p> + +<p>“No! Don’t say that, Mayberry!” interposed Fuller +significantly. “Wait until the Board meets again. +We will see then.”</p> + +<p>“You get that paper—get it at once!” ordered Mayberry +in his very ugliest tone. “And don’t let another +private paper of this company go out of the +office—do you hear?”</p> + +<p>“I am not deaf, Mr. Mayberry,” she said tartly. +“You need not roar at me.”</p> + +<p>“Who are you working for, young woman?” Grandon +Fuller asked, but in a moderate voice. “The +Hapwood-Diller Company, or Macon Hammerly?”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> am working for the company,” she said with +significance.</p> + +<p>“You will not be for long,” growled Mayberry. +“Get that schedule back from old Hammerly——”</p> + +<p>“You will have to ask him for it, Mr. Mayberry,” +she said. “If that is all you called me in for, I have +plenty to do outside,” and she walked out of the private +office.</p> + +<p>Ethel was quite sure that she could make herself +no more disliked than she was already by both the +superintendent and the principal stockholder. But +whatever came of the incident she proposed to keep<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> +her self-respect. She would not allow any one to +bully her.</p> + +<p>It was open war now, however, between Jim Mayberry +and herself. When Mr. Fuller had gone the +angry superintendent strode out to her desk. He took +no pains to smother his rage or his voice when he +spoke to her.</p> + +<p>“You’ll learn mighty soon, Ethel, that Frank +Barton has lost his influence in this concern—and +there’ll be no come back, either. He’s gone for good, +whether the fool dodges a bullet or a bit of shrapnel +or not. He’s through here.</p> + +<p>“And so you will be, and that very soon, if you +don’t take a different tone here. I may lack power +to discharge you right now, but I shan’t lack that +power long. Then we’ll have a house cleaning,” +and he glared over the office as though he felt the +enmity of Ethel’s desk-mates.</p> + +<p>“Going to clean up for fair, are you, Jim?” asked +Sydney, who felt secure in his position, for he had +been bookkeeper for the Hapwood-Diller Company +when the present superintendent was merely a boy +in one of the shops. “You’ll have your hands full if +you intend to run both the offices and the shops, +won’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll show you as well as this blame girl——”</p> + +<p>Benway Chase slipped down from his stool and +started toward the superintendent. Ethel stood up, +her own hands clenched and her eyes aflame.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>“As long as I <i>am</i> at work here, Mr. Mayberry, I +refuse to be insulted and browbeaten by you. If +you have any instructions for me, let me hear them. +I don’t wish to hear anything else.”</p> + +<p>Mayberry stamped out of the room. Mabel Skinner +gave three cheers under her breath.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss Clayton! Ain’t you lovely! I’d have +slapped his face!” she added in approval.</p> + +<p>This brought a laugh, and the office quickly simmered +down. But Ethel knew the matter was not +ended. She could not help feeling worried about +the future. If Jim Mayberry had his way she would +soon be out of a situation.</p> + +<p>Then at home her mother was forever talking about +the decreasing value of the Hapwood-Diller shares. +She heard of other friends selling out their stock at +low prices.</p> + +<p>She set her lips more firmly and refused to believe +that disaster threatened the concern that Frank Barton +had all but sweated blood to put on a paying +basis. Yet there were signs enough that affairs were +not as they should be. There were little breakdowns +in the machinery that never happened before. One +shop was closed for two days and the work fell behind +thereby. The profit was sliced completely from one +job, she knew, because of these handicaps.</p> + +<p>And she was helpless to avert these crippling accidents, +nor could she point out who was at fault. +Certainly there was no happening wherein she could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> +honestly accuse Mayberry of guiltiness, no matter +how much she may have believed him to be at the +bottom of the trouble.</p> + +<p>He had a good and valid excuse to offer the Board +of Directors when that body should investigate these +petty affairs. Naturally he could not give his attention +so closely to the workmen as before. The foremen +ran their several departments more to suit themselves +than when Mayberry did not have to do two +men’s work. It began to be remarked by high and +low alike that Jim Mayberry could not be expected +to be both superintendent and manager of the Hapwood-Diller +Company!</p> + +<p>And these whispers pointed to but one thing: The +appointment of another superintendent and the establishment +of Mayberry in Frank Barton’s place. The +situation grew more and more difficult.</p> + +<p>The possible end of these things troubled Ethel +daily and hourly. Not so much that she feared +losing her own position. That would be sad, but +not a catastrophe.</p> + +<p>Her main thought was for the future of the Hapwood-Diller +Company. There was a conspiracy +against the concern. Who fathered the traitorous +design, and the object of it, she did not know. Jim +Mayberry might be only a tool, for, with Macon +Hammerly, Ethel considered the superintendent a +weakling after all.</p> + +<p>She doubted and feared Grandon Fuller. Yet he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> +was the largest stockholder in the concern—or his +wife was, and he managed his wife’s affairs. Surely it +could not be pleasing to him to see the shares of the +company falling in the open market.</p> + +<p>These matters were really outside of Ethel Clayton’s +province. Yet they would have been vitally +troubling to Frank Barton were he at home and in +charge of affairs. And Ethel felt herself to be on +watch for him.</p> + +<p>If she might only confer with him! If she could +tell him her suspicions and reveal to him her worry +over the Hapwood-Diller Company! This longing +obsessed her.</p> + +<p>Arriving at home one evening rather early she saw, +before reaching the gate, a stranger leaving the premises. +He was a small, black-haired man who walked +briskly away from the Clayton cottage. Her mother +met her at the door.</p> + +<p>“He’s been here again, Ethel!” she exclaimed +tragically when her daughter ran up the steps.</p> + +<p>“Who has been here?”</p> + +<p>“That Schuster. The lawyer who wants to buy +our shares of stock. But he won’t give us but sixty +now. My dear! I am afraid something dreadful is +going to happen.”</p> + +<p>“There’s something going to happen to him!” ejaculated +the girl with emphasis. “Is that he yonder—that +little runt?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. And he said—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>But Ethel was down the steps and out of the gate +without listening to further particulars. She saw +the man turn the corner and walk quickly toward +the car line. There was a path across the open fields +past Benway Chase’s house that brought one more +quickly to the car tracks. Ethel went this way.</p> + +<p>“It’s the only thing to do,” she told herself. “The +only thing to do.”</p> + +<p>She was much disturbed in mind, and her course +of action was by no means exactly clear to her, just +yet. But she was doing some quick thinking.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily she would not have minded had she +met Benway, but now she did not want to stop to +talk, and so watched her chance to slip past the +house unobserved.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he’d try to help me, but I guess I don’t +want his assistance,” she reasoned.</p> + +<p>She almost ran the distance. While yet some rods +from the car line, she saw a car bowling along but +a short block away. She waved her hand frantically.</p> + +<p>The motorman was not looking her way, and +consequently did not see her. Then she called to +him, and he braked up in a hurry.</p> + +<p>“Always willing to accommodate the ladies,” he +remarked with a grin.</p> + +<p>She was already aboard the car, therefore, when +the lawyer swung himself up on the step and entered. +There were several passengers and he gave nobody<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> +more than a cursory glance. Therefore (and Ethel +was glad of the fact) he did not know her or suspect +her identity.</p> + +<p>There was a scheme afoot either to ruin the Hapwood-Diller +Company, or, more probably, to “freeze +out” the smaller stockholders. Of this the girl was +confident. She believed A. Schuster was doing the +secret work for the plotters, and it might be that, if +she trailed him, she could learn just who it was who +was at the bottom of this dastardly conspiracy.</p> + +<p>If Frank Barton were here, and possessed her knowledge +of affairs and her suspicions, would he not do +the same? She believed so, and she believed the +situation called her to the task.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br> + +<small>A RENDEZVOUS WITH DEATH</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">At</span> just this point in Ethel Clayton’s business +troubles, when she wished so heartily that she could +have the benefit of Barton’s advice, the general manager +of the Hapwood-Diller Company was thinking +very little indeed of such tame affairs as those relating +to the factory in Mailsburg.</p> + +<p>Like those other thousands who have a rendezvous +with death on the battleline, the intensive training +and preparation for that event was filling his whole +thought, as well as taking up all his time. The regiment +to which Frank Barton was attached had +plunged immediately into such grilling work as many +of the men had never in their lives experienced.</p> + +<p>In the first place, Barton’s detachment was billeted +in a little village which had before that day on which +the American soldiery marched in, escaped all contact +with the Yankees, or, indeed, any one outside +its local confines. It was but a tiny collection of +farm cottages and stables builded together far back +in feudal times for protective reasons. Sanitation +was an unknown word to the inhabitants.</p> + +<p>Barton’s captain was taken down with pleuropneumonia +almost at his landing from the troop ship<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> +<i>Tecumseh</i>, and was in a hospital. Barton as ranking +lieutenant was in charge of the company of nearly two +hundred men. With the medical major he had the +well-being, both mental and physical, of these men +upon his hands. It was a situation of responsibility.</p> + +<p>His second in command appeared before him on +the first morning, saluted, and said:</p> + +<p>“Lieutenant Barton, I have to report, sir, that this +place—er—really, Lieutenant, <i>it stinks</i>.”</p> + +<p>“So my nose tells me, Lieutenant Copley. The +doctor likewise agrees with us.”</p> + +<p>“Bah jove!” groaned Morrison Copley, who could +not altogether cast his drawl on such sort notice. +“What is to be done about it?”</p> + +<p>“Clean up!” announced Barton vigorously.</p> + +<p>And that was their first job. Precious piles of +stable scrapings that had occupied the little courtyards +before the farmers’ cots, or had been heaped +in stable penthouses since time immemorial, were +forked into carts and spread upon the fallow ground +outside the village.</p> + +<p>It was a shock to the villagers, and at first they +raised a great clamor, for custom was being vastly +disturbed. But when they were made to see that the +mules and horses of the American forces were adding +daily to the fertilizer piles and that the Yankee boys +in removing the manure to the fields were doing the +farmers’ work, and that for nothing, objections died +among the French population of the village, if not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> +entirely among the soldiers themselves. But they +made that village clean and kept it clean.</p> + +<p>Once Frank Barton burst out laughing and had to +retreat to his quarters to recover. The thought had +struck him suddenly that if Madam Copley—the +haughty, somewhat snobbish Madam Copley—could +see her son bossing a gang forking over steaming +manure piles, she would probably swoon.</p> + +<p>It was rather startling, too, when one considered +what a metamorphosis had come over Morry Copley. +Even his voice had changed. Its shrillness had been +modified and when he gave an order now it was with +the snap of a whiplash in his tone.</p> + +<p>Morry was diplomatic, too. In the cleaning up of +the village this ranked high, for he managed such +French as he possessed most adroitly and made the +peasants who first thought they were being robbed +agree with him that it might be a good thing, once in +a hundred years, to scrape the manure platforms—and +even the cobbled village street—right down to +the bone.</p> + +<p>From that first week of occupancy, when effectual +sanitary measures were put into practice, right +through the long season of trench training that followed, +Barton and his detachment were never idle +enough to suffer from homesickness.</p> + +<p>Although the training field and trenches for this +American division were near enough to the battlefront +for the big guns to be heard, they were well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> +hidden, and were defended from the enemy aircraft +by a special squadron of French flying machines and +sentinel airplanes.</p> + +<p>The plan of the German military leaders to bring +some great disaster upon the first American troops +to arrive back of the battlelines, was not yet accomplished. +That the attempt would be made again and +again until the catastrophe was assured was well +understood by the Americans as well as by the allied +training officers working with the division.</p> + +<p>“The Boche will get you if you don’t watch out,” +became a byword in the Yankee camps. Perhaps the +frequent cry of “wolf! wolf!” made the Americans +at last somewhat careless. Men who have always +joked about the lack of intelligence of German saloon-keepers +and delicatessen shopmen are not likely to +be easily impressed by stories of Fritz’s super-powers +under the sea, on the earth, or in the air.</p> + +<p>Working with his men all day and studying at +night made up the round of Barton’s existence during +these first weeks in France. It was not often +he gave much attention to outside matters, or thought +upon anything but military tactics.</p> + +<p>It was true there was a desire in the back of his +mind at first to learn how Helen Fuller was and where +she was stationed in France—if she really had come +over. He wrote a friendly note to her addressed +in care of the Red Cross headquarters in Paris, but +received no reply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>Then arrived Ethel’s first three letters, all in one +mail. The picture in them of Mailsburg and the +affairs of the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing Company, +pleased Barton greatly. He had not realized +before how hungry he was for news.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry seemed to have forgotten him +altogether. He was not so dense that he did not +understand Mayberry’s character in a measure. Barton +had never expected gratitude from the boyhood +friend he had made superintendent of the factory. +Ethel’s letters, however, hinted at none of the trouble +Mayberry was making in Barton’s absence.</p> + +<p>They were just cheerful narratives of the daily +happenings that she knew would interest the absent +manager. He had already written one general missive +addressed to her; but now he sat down and replied +particularly to Ethel Clayton—a warm and +friendly letter inspired by a feeling that he had not +before realized he held for the girl whom he had always +considered so “capable.”</p> + +<p>He remembered how she had looked at him from +her desk on the evening of his final departure from +Mailsburg. Actually he had never forgotten this +picture of the girl he had left behind to watch over +the affairs of the concern he had done so much for +and which had meant so much to him. She seemed +to mean a deal more in his thought, too, than merely +a capable office assistant.</p> + +<p>And she was a pretty girl. That Sunday she had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> +visited the camp at Lake Quehasset! There was no +girl he knew who could look more attractive. Why +had he never noticed it before that day? Hers +was a less glowing, a less striking beauty than Helen +Fuller’s, but it was a beauty that once noted never +lost its attraction for the appreciative eye.</p> + +<p>The lonely man in camp or barracks is sure to contemplate +the memory of his friends and acquaintances +among womankind, and Barton’s mind dwelt +as never before on the girls and women he knew in +Mailsburg.</p> + +<p>“Why,” he thought, as he closed the long letter +to Ethel, “I might have tried to make a friend of her. +I wonder why I did not try? Miss Clayton is very +much worth while.”</p> + +<p>The wound caused by Helen Fuller’s treatment of +him at the last, was still raw. He felt that she had +deliberately cultivated his acquaintance, had made +him believe she had more than a passing interest in +him, only to make the fall of his hopes seem the +greater.</p> + +<p>He wondered if Helen had really had for him exactly +the same feeling that she had for Morrison Copley +or Charlie Bradley. Was she merely a coquette, +playing with men as a fisherman plays a trout—and +for the same reason? Was it merely for sport that +she had exerted herself to charm him?</p> + +<p>Frank Barton felt all the hurt that a man of his +kind does when he awakes to the fact that he has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> +been made a fool of by a guileful woman. But he +did not feel that pique which often turns a man +from one woman to accept the salve of another’s +sympathy. In thinking of Ethel Clayton and writing +to her he had no such thought as this in mind.</p> + +<p>No. Instead he threw himself with all his strength +into his work. He was acting ranking officer of his +company, and he felt all the responsibility which that +implies. He desired to have his boys show at inspection +a higher degree of training than any other company +in the regiment. He kept his brother officers, +as well as the non-commissioned officers, up to the +scratch by both example and precept.</p> + +<p>“Barton’s a shark for work,” they all said. “He +just eats it up!”</p> + +<p>The notice of staff officers was drawn to his command +and it brought Lieutenant Barton some special +attentions. He was taken with a group of other +advanced officers to the front line trenches and there +learned much of the actual work of modern warfare—much +that would help him when his brave boys “went +in.”</p> + +<p>And then, back with his detachment once more, +the men of which were “fit as a fiddle” and ready for +any work, Frank Barton saw that day for which he +had been preparing all these long weeks and months.</p> + +<p>It did not come just as he expected. He and his +men were not moved to some sector of the front where +they would slip into the places of wearied and mud-encrusted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +poilus at night. They did not go to the +Hun in fact; the Hun came to them.</p> + +<p>The day began early indeed for Lieutenant Barton. +He was up long before reveille, for there was a line +of motor-lorries stalled in the mud just outside the +village, that had been there half the night. Barton’s +company was called on for help.</p> + +<p>For several days there had been a thaw and each +night a thick and penetrating fog arose from the saturated +earth, wiping out the stars completely and +hanging a thick pall over the countryside.</p> + +<p>Under the oversight of the non-commissioned +officers, the men began building miniature corduroy +roads over the miry spots, and prying the lorries’ +wheels out of the mud so that they could get a start, +one by one, and go on through the village street.</p> + +<p>Barton strode along the line of stalled trucks and +their trailers to the very last one in the procession. +Beyond, the forelights of a smaller motor-car showed +in the mist. In curiosity he drew near to this.</p> + +<p>“Any chance of getting by the jam, Lieutenant?” +demanded an unmistakably American voice.</p> + +<p>“Not, now,” Barton responded, drawing nearer. +“You will have to wait for those trucks to get through +the town.”</p> + +<p>“And how long will that be?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say. By the way, perhaps you had +better let me see your passes. Save time. I happen +to be in command here.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>“Oh, sure! Here you are, Lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>The driver of the car stepped out, pulling several +papers from an inner pocket as he did so. Barton +flashed the spotlight of his torch on them. At the +same moment a clear and well remembered voice +spoke from the tonneau:</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s Frank Barton! How very odd!”</p> + +<p>“Miss Fuller! Helen!” ejaculated the officer in +equal amazement.</p> + +<p>He turned his flashlight upon the occupants of the +car. Two women in nurse’s cloaks and an elderly +French citizen were Helen’s companions. She, too, +was garbed as a Red Cross nurse.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we shall be all right now!” the American girl +cried.</p> + +<p>She explained to her companions in French, but +spoke so rapidly that Barton could not follow her +observations. The chauffeur, a keen-faced American +lad, evidently college-bred, chuckled and returned +the papers to his pocket.</p> + +<p>“You see, Mr. Barton,” she said to the lieutenant, +“we are going to the base hospital on ahead—these +ladies and I. Monsieur Renau goes to the village +there on business. I engaged Johnny Gear and his +machine to take us around this way because the railroad +accommodations for civilians, as you know, are +dreadful. And here you find us stuck in the mud,” +she concluded dramatically.</p> + +<p>“I fear you will be stuck in the mud more than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> +once if you follow this lorry train,” Barton said. +“It has right of way and will leave an almost impassable +mire behind it.”</p> + +<p>“Now you’ve said something, Lieutenant,” agreed +Johnny Gear.</p> + +<p>“But you can get us around it, of course, Frank,” +said Helen confidently, and in the tone of an American +girl to whom nothing is impossible if she has once +made up her mind to get it.</p> + +<p>“Not by any near road, Miss Helen,” he responded.</p> + +<p>“Why! <i>there</i> is a track,” the girl cried, for through +a sudden rift in the fog she could see a few yards. +“Doesn’t that go around this village you say is just +ahead of us?”</p> + +<p>“It leads into our training encampment. Nobody +is allowed there without special permit.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, now, <i>Frank</i>——”</p> + +<p>“But there is a road,” he hastened to add. “You +must turn back. Half a mile back you will find a +road that encircles the whole field, and on which you +will not be challenged. I’ll go with you if you can +back and turn your car.”</p> + +<p>“You bet I can,” agreed Gear. “Look out for the +mud, Lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>“Come and sit beside me, Frank,” the American +girl said, quickly opening the tonneau door on her +side. “How are you—and the other Mailsburg +heroes? I’ve just lots and <i>lots</i> to tell you!”</p> + +<p>He slipped into the seat indicated and was introduced—after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> +a fashion—to the French girls and to +Monsieur Renau. Gear got his car turned about and +they went lubbering on over the heavy road.</p> + +<p>It was daybreak now but still very dark, with the +world completely smothered in fog. Almost by +chance Barton discovered the entrance to the encircling +track he had spoken of. It was a twenty-mile +trip around the training field; but if he continued +with them he was sure the party would make +it all right.</p> + +<p>“And you <i>must</i> see that we get through, Frank,” +Helen Fuller urged. “Really, you know, we’ve <i>got</i> +to get to our destination to-day.”</p> + +<p>Barton smiled at her reassuringly. Her eyes were +as bright as ever, her smile as alluring. He quite +forgot how cavalierly she had treated him at their +last meeting in Mailsburg.</p> + +<p>“Drive right ahead, Mr. Gear,” he told the chauffeur. +“There is almost no heavy trucking over this +road, and I think you will be able to get ahead of the +lorry train.”</p> + +<p>Then he gave his attention to the girl beside him. +She chattered in her usual magpie fashion; yet Barton +loved to hear her. Naturally of a serious trend +himself, Helen Fuller’s inconsequential talk had always +amused him. And much that she told him +now about her experience since coming to France +was interesting.</p> + +<p>That she was quite as sure as ever that her interests<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> +and her activities were of more importance than +anything else in the world, a listener could not fail +to understand. When she asked him of his adventures +she gave him no time for reply, but went on +with her own story. Nobody in the world mattered +so much as Helen Fuller. It began to irritate him +after a while. It never had before.</p> + +<p>The car plowed on for some time; it was Barton +himself who stopped it.</p> + +<p>“Wait!” he commanded. “What is that I hear? +Shut off your engine, Mr. Gear.”</p> + +<p>Then they all heard it—the unmistakable roaring +of a powerful motor. Moreover it was not on the +road before or behind them. It was in the air.</p> + +<p>“An aeroplane!” cried Helen.</p> + +<p>“A very heavy aero—<i>hein</i>?” queried one of her +fellow nurses.</p> + +<p>“And that’s right!” exclaimed the driver. “Foggy +as it is I suppose there are plenty of flying men up +yonder.”</p> + +<p>“I have never heard a machine just like that,” +Barton said, in a puzzled tone. “I thought I had +identified the sound of all these French machines—Great +heavens!”</p> + +<p>A series of explosions interrupted his speech. Off +to the left they were, in the direction of the village +and the cantonments. Through the thick mist a +flash or two was visible.</p> + +<p>“Shells!” yelled Gear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>“An enemy plane dropping bombs!” ejaculated +Barton. “Must have got past the French escadrille +in this fog.”</p> + +<p>A nearer explosion followed and the roar of the +aeroplane’s engine seemed almost over their heads.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br> + +<small>THE WRATH OF THE HUN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Oh! Oh!</span>” cried Helen, clinging tightly to Barton’s +arm. “Let us turn back!”</p> + +<p>“What good’ll that do!” growled Gear, who heard +her.</p> + +<p>One of the French nurses crossed herself and murmured +a prayer as Barton could see by her whispering +lips. He could not fail to note how much better the +French girls were taking it than Helen. She had +quite lost her self-control and was fairly hysterical.</p> + +<p>He could not afford to show any trepidation himself, +even if he felt it. He was in the uniform of an +officer of the American forces and there were French +eyes upon him. In any case he must not show the +white feather, and it stabbed his pride that Helen, +an American Red Cross nurse, should do so.</p> + +<p>An aerial bomb fell nearer and almost deafened +them with its explosion. Barton sprang out of the +motor-car and aided Helen to alight.</p> + +<p>“Into the ditch—everybody!” he shouted. “Lie +down!”</p> + +<p>He saw Renau and Gear spring to the help of the +other women, then in a moment Barton was rushing +toward the muddy sluiceway with Helen Fuller.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>“Oh, <i>don’t</i> drag me around so, Frank! I’m wet to my +<i>knees</i>. Isn’t there some place—”</p> + +<p>The roaring of the powerful motor overhead +drowned her further complaint. It was then that +another shell fell.</p> + +<p>Had Barton not dragged the girl down with him—both +falling flat into the bottom of the ditch—they +must have suffered the fate of those who had not +yet got away from the motor-car—the two nurses, +Monsieur Renau, and poor smiling, reckless Johnny +Gear, Johnny, who had run away from home to +“see what the blooming war was like.”</p> + +<p>Overhead the aero engine moaned into the distance. +Barton got to his knees and pulled the girl up beside +him. It was light enough for them to see each other.</p> + +<p>“Oh! Oh! Take me away! I must go somewhere. +Oh, Frank! I—I’m all <i>muddy</i>,” Helen, poor shallow, +selfish Helen, wailed.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” gasped Barton, unheeding. “They’re dead—dead!”</p> + +<p>He stood up and tossed back the thick hair from +his brow. He had not his cap. He found his army +pistol gripped in his right hand. His left was holding +up the girl whom he clutched by the shoulder as +carelessly as he might have held a half-filled sack of +flour.</p> + +<p>“You’re not <i>listening</i>!” cried Helen. “Don’t you +<i>hear</i>? Take me somewhere—take me where it is +<i>safe</i>.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>He was listening, but not to her cries. That terrible +thing in the air was coming back.</p> + +<p>The moan of the powerful engine was increasing +again. A few guns in the distance began to pop. +The Field Artillery was getting into action—<i>and he +was not there</i>.</p> + +<p>What carnage might not have already been accomplished! +This terrible thing in the air, swooping +through the fog, might have brought havoc and disaster +to the American forces.</p> + +<p>“Take me away! Take me away!” the girl cried +over and over again, fairly clawing at his arm to +attract his attention.</p> + +<p>“Where shall I take you? One place is as safe as +another—until this raid is over.”</p> + +<p>It was growing lighter all the time. The fog was +rapidly thinning. Suddenly Helen shrieked:</p> + +<p>“Where is our car?”</p> + +<p>There was nothing but a hole in the road where it +had stood. Not a shred of it remained within their +straining vision. Wiped out—like that!</p> + +<p>“Here it comes again!” shouted Barton.</p> + +<p>Through the dissipating mist the great sausage-like +body of the German air-raider appeared. It +was one of the newest and largest airships yet conceived +and built. It drifted low—not two hundred +yards from the earth.</p> + +<p>“Down on the ground!” commanded Barton. +“If they spy us——”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_200a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_200a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">He did fire—futilely, perhaps—as the great car +circled clumsily above the spot.</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>See page <a href="#Page_201">201</a></i>)</p> +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>The huge flying car swooped lower. It seemed to +be heading directly for the two Americans in the +muddy road. The lieutenant flung the girl down +again, but stood erect himself, his legs astride, his +head back, eyes glaring through the shreds of fog +at the airship. He had involuntarily assumed an +attitude of defiance and his pistol was raised at firing +angle.</p> + +<p>He did fire—futilely, perhaps—as the great car +circled clumsily above the spot. He emptied the +weapon at the flying foe.</p> + +<p>Suddenly—whether a chance bullet had hit some +vital spot or not—a red flame leaped to life in the +envelope of the huge bag. So low sailed the machine +that Barton could see a man run along a narrow platform +and shoot the spray of a chemical fire extinguisher +up at the spreading flame.</p> + +<p>Only for a moment was this attempt continued. +Then a second man appeared, and the usual high, +staccato voice of a Prussian officer uttering a command +sounded sharply through the rumble of the +dying motor.</p> + +<p>The efforts of the man with the fire extinguisher +ceased. Some catastrophe had overtaken the huge +war machine. Her engine had lost its stroke. She +was coming to earth—and that in enemy territory. +The crew would destroy the ship as they always do +in such instances.</p> + +<p>A wild cheer burst from Barton’s lips. Swiftly he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> +reloaded his automatic pistol. The nose of the +wabbly, creaking machine, so clumsy looking that +Barton half wondered how it was ever lifted from +the ground, plunged toward the earth.</p> + +<p>It passed directly over the road. The balloon +envelope was afire in a dozen places. Barton could +see the flash of an axe in the officer’s hands as he +wrecked the mechanism of the still flying airship.</p> + +<p>There was a deafening crash when the car hit the +ground. The American saw one man, turning over +and over in the air, dashed forty feet at least by the +force of the impact. Other figures climbed down from +the crushed car on to which the balloon collapsed +slowly, all afire.</p> + +<p>“Come on!” shouted the excited lieutenant, waving +his weapon. “Now we’ve got ’em!”</p> + +<p>“Frank! Stop! Don’t you <i>dare</i> leave me!” wailed +Helen Fuller.</p> + +<p>“Wait for me here, Helen——”</p> + +<p>“I tell you I <i>won’t</i>!” cried the girl. She stamped +her foot in rage. “You take me right away from +here!”</p> + +<p>“But I must round those fellows up. We’ve got +’em—don’t you see? Wait here for me if you are +afraid.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll <i>never</i> forgive you, Frank Barton, if you leave +me! And I <i>won’t</i> go over there! Those—those men +will kill us. Oh, Frank! Come back!”</p> + +<p>He hesitated but a moment to answer her. “I’m<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> +sure you wouldn’t want me to be a quitter, Helen,” +he declared, and leaped the ditch to get into the field +upon which the wrecked German airship had fallen.</p> + +<p>With a scream she followed him. She ran faster +than he, and caught his right arm again just as he +was rounding the rear of the wreckage. Before them +stood fourteen men in the gray olive of the German +uniform. The man thrown when the ship came down +never moved.</p> + +<p>Barton saw instantly that the crew of the airship—even +the commander himself—were unarmed. +Good reason for that. Deep in the enemy’s country, +without a possible chance of escape through the lines, +a peaceful demeanor and appearance spelled safety +for them.</p> + +<p>Barton raised his pistol, Helen still clinging to his +arm. The Germans, or, at least, those in the front +of the group, raised their hands in token of surrender. +Even the commander called out: “<i>Kamerad!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Frank Barton! Take me away! Save me!” shrieked +the hysterical girl.</p> + +<p>She hung, a dead weight, upon his arm and pulled +down the weapon. One of the men in the back of +the group had been stooping down, his hands on the +ground. Now he stood up, stepped clear of his companions, +and swung his right hand back.</p> + +<p>With the accuracy of a baseball player he flung the +sharp stone he had picked up. Barton tried to fire +and dodge, but Helen’s interference made both attempts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> +impossible. The stone struck him just above +the right temple and glanced off, cutting such a gash +that the blood poured down his face, blinding him.</p> + +<p>With a shout the Germans started for Barton and +the girl. The lieutenant, feeling himself helpless, +thrust his weapon into Helen’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Defend yourself!” he gasped, and then slipped +slowly to the ground, crumpling in a senseless heap +at her feet.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX<br> + +<small>UNCERTAINTIES</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Had</span> Ethel Clayton known how deep in wild adventure +Barton was as she rode down town in the surface +car watching the little lawyer, she would have been +utterly disgruntled at the tameness of her quest.</p> + +<p>Yet it was with thought of Barton in her mind, as +well as of her own personal interest and that of her +mother’s, that the girl forged on. She believed that +a conspiracy was on foot the intent of which was the +ruining of the business structure Frank Barton had +labored so hard to build and make secure. He had +made the Hapwood-Diller Company a going concern. +Somebody was now determined to make abortive +all the general manger’s work and, as well, to ruin +the smaller stockholders.</p> + +<p>Who that somebody was Ethel was not certain, +although she had strong suspicions. She believed +A. Schuster to be the link connecting her suspicions +with the truth. She sat quietly in the car and did +not even glance his way after her first hasty appreciation +of the man when he had entered.</p> + +<p>In front of the Bellevue he left the car, but Ethel +went on to the next crossing before alighting. She +hurried back. Under the bunch of electric lights<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> +before the main door of the hotel she saw A. Schuster +pass in.</p> + +<p>She had expected this. Both Mr. Grandon Fuller +and Jim Mayberry she knew to be habitués of the +hotel. There was a public dining-room at one side of +the front door and the lobby and office were on the +other, with the smoking-room and café back of the +clerk’s desk.</p> + +<p>Ethel had already made up her mind what she +would do in this emergency. She mounted the broad +steps briskly and crossed the lobby toward the small +ladies’ parlor behind the stairway. A glance to the +right showed her the black-haired lawyer approaching +the desk.</p> + +<p>In one chair lounged the pursy Mr. Fuller. He +vouchsafed Schuster no more than a glance. But +Jim Mayberry, coming from the smoking-room, hailed +the lawyer affably:</p> + +<p>“Hi, old man! going to have supper with me? +Come on upstairs while I get into my best bib and +tucker for the evening.”</p> + +<p>He clapped Schuster heartily on the shoulder and +led him away toward the little elevator that wheezed +upward asthmatically the next moment. Neither +had looked at Grandon Fuller nor he at them.</p> + +<p>This fact was sufficient to have made Ethel Clayton +suspicious had she not been so before. Jim Mayberry +was always so very polite and deferential to +Mr. Fuller when the latter appeared at the factory<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +offices. It seemed now as though the superintendent +of the Hapwood-Diller Company had ignored the +presence of the chief stockholder too obviously.</p> + +<p>Ethel passed hastily on to the parlor; but nothing +of this had escaped her quick eye and understanding. +In the parlor she found a girl in cap and apron whom +she knew. It was Eliza Boling, who presided over +the linen room of the hotel and acted as a sort of +floor clerk on the third floor. Ethel had gone to +school with the girl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ethel! come up to my desk so we can talk,” +cried Miss Boling, when she caught sight of Miss +Clayton. “I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age.”</p> + +<p>Ethel was nothing loath under the circumstances, +and ran upstairs with her. The slowly moving elevator +had scarcely more than deposited Jim Mayberry +and the lawyer on the third floor. Ethel saw +them approaching one of the doors.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that Mr. Mayberry?” she asked her acquaintance.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I suppose it is,” replied the other girl without +looking up. “Don’t let him speak to you. He’s +so awfully fresh!”</p> + +<p>“Is that his room?” Ethel asked.</p> + +<p>“Number Eighty? Yes. And I wish it was on +another floor.”</p> + +<p>Eliza Boling was a somewhat attractive girl, and +Ethel could understand easily that the superintendent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> +of the Hapwood-Diller Company would have made +himself objectionable to her.</p> + +<p>The two girls talked of mutual friends and affairs +of mutual interest for some time. Then the elevator +door clanged again. Ethel looked quickly. The +heavy figure of Mr. Grandon Fuller stepped out into +the corridor. He did not glance toward the two girls.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fuller walked straight to the door of Number +Eighty. He rapped once and then entered the room. +It was plain his coming was expected.</p> + +<p>Ethel had seen enough to assure her that Fuller, +Jim Mayberry, and the sly looking Schuster were engaged +in something that they wished to keep secret +from people in general.</p> + +<p>She believed she had traced the conspirators. The +reason for the largest stockholder of the Hapwood-Diller +Company seeking to wreck that concern was, +however, beyond Ethel Clayton’s powers of divination.</p> + +<p>For that was exactly the threat of circumstances as +the girl saw it. The forcing down of the price of +Hapwood-Diller stock must in the end ruin the credit +of the corporation. She went home vastly puzzled +by the whole situation.</p> + +<p>Her mother was utterly unstrung.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ethel, I feel terribly condemned!” she cried. +“Where have you been? I wish you had come in +earlier so as to hear that Mr. Schuster talk.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to hear him talk,” declared her +daughter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>“It seems to me, Ethel,” complained Mrs. Clayton, +“that you are siding against me—against your own +interests. I suppose you call that loyalty to your +employer. But Frank Barton isn’t there at the offices +any more. He never ought to have gone away. I +am convinced of that now. The business is on its +last legs. You know it is, but you won’t admit it.”</p> + +<p>“I know nothing of the kind, Mother!” cried Ethel +with exasperation. “Why, you talk about the Hapwood-Diller +Company as these pro-Germans do about +the war! And just as unreasonably.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean—calling your own mother a +pro-German?” demanded Mrs. Clayton. “I guess +I’m just as good a patriot as the next one—and I knit +as many socks and sweaters, too!</p> + +<p>“But about our shares of stock—that’s different. +Since you’ve been away Amy Hopper’s been in +and she’s sold her shares—she had ten—and has +bought a Ford car. At least, she’s got something +for her money, while we are likely to lose everything.”</p> + +<p>Ethel was just completing her warmed-over supper, +and under a steady dropping of her mother’s complaints, +when the porch door banged open and Benway +Chase rushed in.</p> + +<p>“Goodness, Bennie, how you scared me!” Mrs. +Clayton ejaculated. “Sit down and have a piece of +pie—do!”</p> + +<p>“No. But I’ll stand up and eat it—many thanks, +Mrs. Clayton!” responded the young fellow, whipping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> +the piece of pie off the plate she offered him and +inserting it like a wedge into his mouth for the first +bite. Somehow he managed to utter: “Fire at the +factory, Ethel. Get on your hat and coat.”</p> + +<p>“No! Benway?” she gasped, starting up.</p> + +<p>“Surest thing you know! You can see the smoke +from the street. I telephoned. It’s confined to +Shop Four. The firemen are there. But let’s go +down and see that nothing’s damaged around the +offices.”</p> + +<p>She ran for her coat and hat and they sallied forth, +Benway swallowing the last of the pie as they cleared +the gate. “Gee! but your mother does make good +pie crust, Ethel,” he said.</p> + +<p>His boyishness somehow troubled her more than +it usually did just then. Perhaps because her own +thoughts were so serious. He would make a good +match for Mabel Skinner. He would never grow up +enough for Ethel to consider him for a moment as a +partner in life.</p> + +<p>The fire was under control when the two young +people reached the factory. Nor had it done much +damage. Moreover, it was well covered with insurance; +but the delay in work under way would be considerable.</p> + +<p>“By jove!” said Benway, “the old H-D Company is +up against it for fair. Everything is going wrong with +it. You’d think the place was bewitched, wouldn’t +you?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>“Hush! Let us not talk about such things. John +says it was faulty insulation. But how came there +to be faulty insulation in that shop? Somebody is +guilty of criminal carelessness. Oh, I wish Frank +Barton were here!”</p> + +<p>This last wish she did not let Benway hear. And, +indeed, what could Barton have done had he been +on the spot? The Board of Directors met the next +day and even Mr. Hammerly could find nobody to +“jack up.”</p> + +<p>The grain dealer was in a fine rage, however. The +meeting was as acrimonious a session as had ever +been held since the reorganization of the corporation. +Ethel was only called into the room once and then +Hammerly did not speak to her. And after the meeting +he pulled his hat down over his ears and stamped +out of the offices without a word.</p> + +<p>She wondered what he had done with the paper +she had given him—the specification sheet of the +Kimberly Binding Company order. It seemed strange +that he had never taken her into his confidence at +all about that matter.</p> + +<p>It leaked out in some way, however, after this +meeting, that the old grain merchant was beaten by +Grandon Fuller and his friends and that Jim Mayberry +was likely to be made manager in Barton’s +place at the next quarterly meeting. She had noticed +that the superintendent left the Board meeting +with a smile. He had given Ethel a hard look, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +she was well aware of what awaited her in the near +future if Mayberry had his way.</p> + +<p>There was a streak of fair weather for her in a day +or two, however. Another letter arrived from France, +and this time it was not merely an impersonal narrative +of the absent’s manager’s adventures in uniform. +There was an intimate note to the missive that +warmed Ethel’s heart to a glow. Yet she realized +that not a phrase went beyond proper friendliness.</p> + +<p>She read it all to the others in the office, although +it was not just the same as his first letter had been. +She did not let the sheets go out of her own hands, +however. There was a personal atmosphere to it +which made her fold the letter finally and hide it +in her blouse. This betrayed a softness that would +have angered Ethel had anybody accused her of it.</p> + +<p>Other people heard about the letter, however, and +she was stopped for several days upon the street by +friends of Barton asking after him. Secretly she was +proud that it was she whom he had selected as a correspondent +among all those who knew and were +interested in him here in Mailsburg.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Trevor came to the office to see her. +The boarding-house mistress who had housed and +fed Frank Barton so long was a rather grim woman +in an old-fashioned Paisley shawl and arctics. Her +hands were red and gnarled and her back was as +curveless as a ramrod.</p> + +<p>When she strode into the Hapwood-Diller offices<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> +she was as stern as a grenadier. Her mere appearance +quelled even Mabel Skinner. But when she +came close to Ethel Clayton’s desk the girl saw that +her eyelids were red-rimmed and that she had difficulty +in keeping her lips from trembling.</p> + +<p>“Miss Clayton—you’re Miss Clayton, ain’t you?” +she began. “Ethel Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” agreed Ethel. “You are Mrs. Trevor?”</p> + +<p>The woman nodded. Then said: “What do you +know about Frank Barton? I hear you got a letter +from him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mrs. Trevor.”</p> + +<p>“When was it writ?”</p> + +<p>Ethel told her, understanding too well to consider +Mrs. Trevor at all impertinent. She told her most +of what was in the letter, too, for it was burned into +her memory too clearly for her to forget what Frank +Barton had said.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the woman, with a sigh, “I had to +know. I expect I’m an old fool. But that boy was +with me long, Miss Clayton.”</p> + +<p>“I think I understand,” the girl said gently.</p> + +<p>“You see, I got to dreaming of him. Night afore +last I had a terrible dream. I saw him with his face +all bloody, his empty hands in the air—sort of clutching +like—and him falling down just like he was +dead. And there was smoke and fire all about, just +as though he was in battle. It’s worried me a lot.”</p> + +<p>“I should think it would, Mrs. Trevor,” Ethel said.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> +“But you know, they say dreams go by contraries.”</p> + +<p>“So they say, but I don’t know as it is always +true. I’ve had dreams——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you mustn’t let dreams get on your nerves,” +broke in Ethel hastily.</p> + +<p>“Well, the dear boy meant so much to me. You +can’t imagine what a good boarder he was—no +trouble at all—leas’wise not alongside o’ some of +’em. Lordy! what a lot of trouble some of ’em do +make, to be sure. But Frank Barton—he’s one boy +out of a thousand, yes, he is;” and the old boarding-house +mistress bobbed her head vigorously.</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t worry. It will be all right, I’m +sure,” answered the girl, but rather weakly.</p> + +<p>“You feel sure, Miss Clayton?”</p> + +<p>“You must look on the bright side. It will be +all right.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I hope so!” The woman then tramped out +of the office. She was plainly relieved and comforted. +But Ethel was not.</p> + +<p>Of course she did not believe in dreams. But what +Mrs. Trevor had said remained in the girl’s mind—stuck +to her memory like a burr. She was constantly +seeing Frank Barton falling down, his face +masked in blood. She almost accepted Mrs. Trevor’s +vision as prophetic.</p> + +<p>Then came the day when the Mailsburg <i>Clarion</i> +printed an afternoon extra edition. Those in the +office heard the boys shouting it under the windows<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> +and Benway Chase ran out to buy a paper. Across +the sheet was the headline:</p> + +<p class="center">GERMAN AIR RAID ON AMERICAN CAMP!<br> +METEOR DIVISION BOMBED!</p> + +<p>The Field Artillery with which Frank Barton +served was a part of the so-styled Meteor Division.</p> + +<p>Ethel Clayton realized this while the paper was +still across the room from her. She sat perfectly +still at her desk, clutching the edge of it to keep down +the cry that rose to her lips.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX<br> + +<small>SO FAR AWAY!</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Benway Chase</span> was looking at her and Ethel realized +that in the boy’s eyes there was an expression of +pain and despair that gave almost a tragic cast to his +countenance. He had suddenly become aware that +his old-time friend, the girl he had always worshiped, +was given to the very last fibre of her being +to another.</p> + +<p>His lips moved stiffly as he came nearer to her desk.</p> + +<p>“Is it Mr. Barton’s division!” he questioned, +brokenly. “Oh, Ethel!”</p> + +<p>“His Field Artillery is a part of the Meteor Division,” +she said, and was surprised that her voice was +unshaken.</p> + +<p>“And you—” He did not finish the speech. His +gaze dropped. The others gathered around to read +the startling news in the <i>Clarion</i>.</p> + +<p>Besides the headlines emblazoned across the page, +there was not much to read. The War Department +merely announced that it was reported—a report as +yet unverified—that the Germans had raided the +American camp. No casualties were announced. +As previously declared, the Department would make +all particulars public as soon as the undisputed facts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> +were received from the officer commanding the division.</p> + +<p>Mayberry must have heard the buzz of conversation +from the private office. He appeared, an ominous +scowl on his brow.</p> + +<p>“What’s going on here?” he demanded. “Is this +all you people have to do? I believe the Hapwood-Diller +Company could get along just as well with +half the office force we have.”</p> + +<p>“Let you and me enlist, Mayberry,” suggested +Sydney. “They could get along without us, that’s +sure.”</p> + +<p>Little Skinner giggled. The superintendent, who +had some fear of Sydney, strode forward without +replying to the bookkeeper and took the paper out of +Josephine Durand’s hand. He held some papers in +a sheaf in his left hand and when he caught sight of +the headlines he put his papers on the desk the +better to handle the smutted newspaper.</p> + +<p>Ethel had not risen. In flapping open the <i>Clarion</i> +Mayberry started a circulation of air that scattered +his sheaf of papers. Ethel gathered them together +and stacked them into a neat packet. But this +time a different paper was on top of the pile. She +saw that the top sheet was headed: “A. Schuster.”</p> + +<p>“What’s all this about?” Mayberry was saying. +“Murder! Was Barton in it?”</p> + +<p>“His battalion is attached to that division, Mr. +Mayberry,” Benway said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>“Well, maybe he’s seen some real fighting, then,” +the superintendent said cheerfully. “That’s what +he went over there for, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>He dropped the <i>Clarion</i> upon Ethel’s desk and +picked up his papers. Seeing what lay on top he +flashed the girl a sudden suspicious glance. But +Ethel seemed oblivious of it.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it seemed as though all save the phlegmatic +superintendent were too thoroughly disturbed to +set their minds on office matters. Ethel betrayed +less emotion than most of them, perhaps; but then +it was her nature to hide her keener feelings.</p> + +<p>The few following days she found hard to live +through. The strain upon her patience was great. +The papers were filled with frothings and imaginations +about the raid on the American camp. Then +came the truth with the list of casualties.</p> + +<p>The list was small. One enlisted man killed, seven +wounded and one missing. The huge German flying +machine had been brought down, one of its crew +losing his life, the other fourteen being captured by +Second-Lieutenant Charles Bradley with a part of +his company.</p> + +<p>With hungry eyes Ethel Clayton read the list of +casualties. The last line yielded the news which +she had feared all along:</p> + +<p class="center">“<i>Lieutenant F. Barton, Field Artillery, missing.</i>”</p> + +<p>There was a full account in the papers of the raid +and the bringing down of the German raider. But<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +the single statement, that Frank Barton was missing, +added a spice of mystery to the affair that created +a good deal of excitement in Mailsburg.</p> + +<p>It could not be possible, if all the German raiders +were captured or killed, that Frank Barton was himself +captured and taken into the German lines. That +seemed improbable. Yet the sinister report stood.</p> + +<p>What had happened to him? Would Ethel ever +hear from him again? Was his fate to be one of +those mysteries of war that are never satisfactorily +explained? Of the three lurid headings of the casualty +list, killed, wounded, missing, the last is always +the most nerve-breaking.</p> + +<p>Just at this time, however, Ethel Clayton’s mind +was scarified by other and serious troubles. She had +decided that at last the evidence of conspiracy was +sufficient to lay before Mr. Hammerly; and as the +latter seemed to make no move the girl went to him.</p> + +<p>“The quarterly meeting is near. I understand that +Mr. Mayberry is to be advanced to Mr. Barton’s +position,” she said to the old grain dealer. “To me +it looks like ruin for us all. My mother has some +interest in it, Mr. Hammerly, so I am speaking for +her, not for myself as an employee.”</p> + +<p>“Humph! No! You’d best keep out of it, Ethel,” +said the old man. “Leave this to me. I’ve learned +something about this Schuster, though I never saw +him. If I need your evidence I’ll call on you in the +board meeting. But I reckon I can link up A.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> +Schuster with the proper parties without your verbal +testimony.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Jim Mayberry made himself as unpleasant +around the offices as he could. He felt, it +seemed, that he would soon have all the force at his +mercy, unless it were Sydney. He would scarcely +dare discharge the bookkeeper, who had been so long +with the corporation.</p> + +<p>“Mayberry hangs the sword of Damocles over our +heads,” Benway growled one evening to Ethel. “I +can feel the breath of it on the back of my neck, at +least. I might as well be looking around for another +job.”</p> + +<p>Ethel had no word of comfort for him. She did +not see herself just how it was coming out. It seemed +probable that Frank Barton would never come back +now; so why should the stockholders keep his situation +for him?</p> + +<p>The day for the quarterly board meeting arrived, +and the board room buzzed like a hive of disturbed +bees. Thoroughly in touch as she was with the reports +from all departments, Ethel knew very well +that the expected blow must fall.</p> + +<p>The usual dividend must be passed. The circumstances +of the corporation would not allow anything +else to be done. The last two quarterly reports +showed a decline in profits, in production, and in +value of plant, which fairly staggered most of the +board members.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>“It stands to reason,” Grandon Fuller stated in his +decided way, “that before he went away, Mr. Barton +was covering up a good many things that he would +better have given us notice of. We can excuse the +enthusiasm and anxiety of the young, perhaps; he +was very desirous of getting out of it all and putting +on the army khaki. But now we have suffered +enough—this corporation I mean—because of his +mistakes. We must get back on a stable foundation. +Somebody must get a firm grip upon the Hapwood-Diller +Company.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose Brother Fuller tells us just wherein Frank +Barton is to be blamed for our present situation?” +suggested Macon Hammerly, with surprising gentleness +for him. “We want facts, not allegations.”</p> + +<p>“You know very well how he bungled that Kimberly +order.”</p> + +<p>“I have affidavits of a chemist and two handwriting +experts here,” interposed Hammerly, shuffling +the papers before him, “which state that two lines +in the Kimberly Company’s schedule sheet were +erased, and in the two interpolated lines an attempt +made by somebody to copy the writing of the young +woman who made the schedule. In other words a +deliberate and successful attempt to change the substance +of the Kimberly order was made after it passed +out of Mr. Barton’s hands.”</p> + +<p>There was immediate uproar—denial by Fuller and +angry talk by some of the other members of the board.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> +Hammerly grimly displayed his affidavits and proved +his case to the satisfaction of most of the board of +directors.</p> + +<p>“The fact remains,” cried Grandon Fuller, “that +our shares are selling in the open market as low as +sixty. The news has got out that the business is +tottering for want of a strong hand to manage it.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll take that up, too,” interposed Hammerly. +“I have here a list of shares and whom they were +bought from by a man named A. Schuster. These +shares have been thrown on the market by various +brokers at ridiculous prices. They were all bought +up again by A. Schuster! And this same tricky legal +light has been the representative of a certain member +of this board in New York for the past three years.”</p> + +<p>This remarkable statement produced a profound +sensation. For a brief instant there was intense +silence as the members of the board looked at each +other. Then—</p> + +<p>“What are you saying?”</p> + +<p>“That’s a grave accusation!”</p> + +<p>“Can you prove your words?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a crime to do what you’re hinting at, Hammerly.”</p> + +<p>“He can’t prove a thing!”</p> + +<p>“He don’t know what he’s talking about!”</p> + +<p>“Shut him up!”</p> + +<p>“He ought to be put out of the meeting!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>“That’s the talk. He is going too far. This is +a meeting of gentlemen.”</p> + +<p>Thus came the chorus of objections, not alone +from Grandon Fuller. But Macon Hammerly’s +scowl quelled the riot.</p> + +<p>“I know whereof I speak,” he said solemnly. “I +have papers and witnesses to prove it. And I have +reason to suppose, in addition, that Mr. Grandon +Fuller has made some wash sales of his own shares +of the Hapwood-Diller Company that in the first +place bore down the price. Let him deny it if he +dares!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI<br> + +<small>THE BURDEN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> game of “freeze out” fathered by the heaviest +stockholder in the Hapwood-Diller Company betrayed +by Macon Hammerly’s confident statements +was but an incident of that stormy meeting of the +board. The latter was thoroughly reorganized before +the end of the session. And that spelled utter defeat +for Mr. Fuller’s plans.</p> + +<p>He held some of his friends on the board; but Hammerly +was a shrewd politician. He voted more proxies +than Fuller could assemble. The latter found himself +ousted from the chairmanship; the grain merchant +was voted into the vacant place by a satisfactory +majority. The smoke of battle cleared away, leaving +Grandon Fuller slumped down in his chair with +a sour face and Jim Mayberry looking glum and at +the same time half-frightened and half-dazed.</p> + +<p>“Send for Ethel Clayton,” ordered the new chairman. +“We want stenographic notes of what goes +on here. If any of our stockholders question what +we do we must be able to spread before them an exact +report of our actions. Under the old régime this +was impossible. There was too much secret diplomacy +here,” and he grinned.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>Ethel realized the tenseness of the situation when +she came into the board room, book and pencil in +hand. She was given a seat at Hammerly’s right +hand.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said the grim looking grain dealer, “you +have something to say, I presume, Jim?” and he +looked at the superintendent.</p> + +<p>“I say what I said before, Mr. Hammerly,” grumbled +Mayberry. “If I can’t have a free hand I can’t +undertake to manage the concern, and that’s all there +is to it.”</p> + +<p>“But you can continue as superintendent, I presume?” +softly asked Hammerly. “That job isn’t +too big for you, is it?”</p> + +<p>The younger man’s face flamed and he answered +angrily: “I don’t know what you mean. Nobody +ever complained of my work before.”</p> + +<p>“While Barton was on the job to overlook you—no,” +admitted the old man, his sarcasm biting. +“True. But things have been going badly in the +various shops. That fire in Number Four the other +day, for instance.”</p> + +<p>“By thunder!” exploded Mayberry, “you can’t +blame me for that! I can’t be in a dozen places at +once.”</p> + +<p>“There have been quite unnecessary breakdowns, +and work has been retarded. How do you explain +these things?” demanded Mr. Hammerly.</p> + +<p>“I—I——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>“I don’t mean to say you are not a good man in +your place, Jim,” said the grain merchant. “But +Barton’s job is too big for you. I did not believe you +could begin to fill his shoes at the start.”</p> + +<p>“Yet you agreed that Barton should go away?” +questioned Grandon Fuller.</p> + +<p>“Yes. He wanted to go. For patriotic reasons I +could not thwart his desire. And in addition I knew +that if Jim here fell down—as he has—we would not +be helpless.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by that?” asked Seville Baker, +who owned a drug store and had several thousand +dollars invested in the Hapwood-Diller Company +stock.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry’s face was fiery again. Even Grandon +Fuller sat up to stare at Hammerly. The others +seemed as much amazed.</p> + +<p>The old grain dealer grinned for a moment rather +sheepishly. Then a new expression came into his face, +for he turned to look at the girl beside him. His +gnarled right hand crept over her white and well +shaped left. She glanced up from her book, startled.</p> + +<p>“I tell you what ’tis,” said Hammerly in his homely +way; “if I was as blind as you other fellers are this +board would be about as much good as an old women’s +sewing bee! That’s what!</p> + +<p>“There’s been just one person that’s kept things +going half smoothly in the Hapwood-Diller Company +since Frank Barton cleared out to be a soldier. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> +that person had a good deal to do toward helping +Frank when he was on the job.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you fellers know that Miss Clayton here +was Frank’s right hand man? She knows all the ins +and outs of things. It was her caught this poor fish, +Jim Mayberry, selling us out to the Bogata Company. +She’s been of much more importance lately, I can +tell you. If we pull out of this hole we are in and +pay a dividend again, it will be because of what she +has done.”</p> + +<p>Grandon Fuller dragged himself to his feet. He +had a power of repression scarcely second to Hammerly +himself. But this was too much.</p> + +<p>“You old fool!” he shouted at the grain dealer. +“You don’t mean to try to put a woman in charge of +this business? It’s suicidal!”</p> + +<p>“I mean just that. I mean Miss Clayton’s able +to fill the job, and Jim Mayberry ain’t. She’s a better +man when it comes to business sense than any +of us. I nominate her for the place of assistant manager, +to hold the job till Frank Barton comes back +to us—if the poor feller ever does come back.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t vote on such a fool proposition,” cried +Fuller wrathfully, starting for the door.</p> + +<p>“Don’t bother to, Grandon,” drawled Hammerly. +“You’d be beat if you did—and you know it. I’ve +got more proxies than you have.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_227a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_227a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“I nominate her as assistant manager, to hold +the job till Frank Barton comes back.”</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>See page <a href="#Page_227">227</a></i>)</p> +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>The door of the board room banged. Ethel Clayton +had turned to speak, but Hammerly was scowling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> +at Jim Mayberry, who had risen as though to +follow his fellow-conspirator. “Spit it out, Jim. Tell +us what’s on your chest.”</p> + +<p>“I—I——You old fool!” exclaimed the superintendent, +“do you think I am going to work here under +a <i>girl</i>? To be set aside for her?”</p> + +<p>“No; I don’t guess you will,” responded Hammerly. +“We’ll give you a chance to resign if that’s what you +want. And I guess your resignation will be accepted +pretty nigh unanimous.”</p> + +<p>“But Mr. Hammerly,” begged Seville Baker, +feebly, “what will happen to the works? Mr. Mayberry +has been superintendent so long——”</p> + +<p>“There’s a good foreman in every shop who has +been on his job longer than Jim Mayberry has voted. +They’ve only been hampered by Jim—that’s the truth +of the matter.”</p> + +<p>“I will be through at the end of the month, gentlemen,” +said Mayberry, recovering his dignity. “The +high hand Mr. Hammerly takes in this matter——”</p> + +<p>“Shoo!” exclaimed the grain merchant with grim +pleasantry. “You’ll get through right here and now. +I for one wouldn’t trust you to go out into the shops +again. You go to Sydney and draw your salary to +the end of next month. You broke your contract +when you accepted the assistant managership and +extra salary. Your dear friend, Fuller, or his legal +henchman, Schuster, didn’t point that out to you, +did they? Sydney’s got the money all in an envelope<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> +for you. Scat!” and he waved both hands at the +angry Mayberry.</p> + +<p>“Now,” the old man added, turning to his conferees, +“maybe you fellows think I’ve taken a high +hand in these proceedings; but to tell you honestly, +we ought to have both Mayberry and Grandon Fuller +arrested. Only it would have created a scandal that +the Hapwood-Diller Company couldn’t afford at this +time.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t want any scandal,” came from the +corner of the room.</p> + +<p>“We’ve had enough trouble as it is,” came from +the other side of the place.</p> + +<p>“Let us get right down to a working basis—and +let it go at that.”</p> + +<p>“What we want to do is to pull up and make +some money.”</p> + +<p>At this last remark, Macon Hammerly turned to +the speaker and smiled grimly. Then he went on:</p> + +<p>“There ain’t no use in denying that we’re in a bad +hole. We’ve run behind for two quarters, and our +credit’s hurt by those stock sales. It’s going to be a +heavy burden upon this girl’s shoulders—as it was +upon Frank Barton’s—to pull us out. But she’ll +do it! Won’t you, Ethel?” he demanded heartily.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Hammerly,” the girl murmured.</p> + +<p>“Louder! Tell them ‘Yes,’” cried the grain merchant.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>“I can only follow in Mr. Barton’s footsteps,” she +stammered.</p> + +<p>“And good enough!” declared Mr. Baker.</p> + +<p>“If you can do half as well as Barton, Miss Clayton,” +said another of the revivified board, “we shall +have no complaint.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll be behind you, girl,” said Macon Hammerly. +“Keep the wheels turning, speed up the output, +and watch the outgoes as well as the incomes. +That’s the secret of success in this business. And +the Lord help you!” he added under his breath, but +the excited girl herself did not hear his less jubilant +tone.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII<br> + +<small>THE FIGHT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">With</span> a reunited board behind her and canny Macon +Hammerly to advise with, it might seem at the rising +of the curtain on Ethel Clayton’s régime as <i>de +facto</i> manager of the Hapwood-Diller Manufacturing +Company that her course would be along pleasant +paths.</p> + +<p>Instead she very soon found that she was walking +over burning plowshares.</p> + +<p>That Grandon Fuller was beaten in his control of +the board of directors did not make him amenable +to the new policies of the Hapwood-Diller Company +and the reign of a girl as manager of the business.</p> + +<p>He boldly stated that he considered the knell of +the company had rung because of the situation in the +offices. If a full-grown man like Jim Mayberry could +not handle the business so as to make a profit, how +could a girl be expected to do so?</p> + +<p>That Mr. Fuller’s intention was still to discourage +the small stockholders so that he could buy up their +holdings at a low price and finally control the corporation, +could not be overlooked. Yet he was careful +to do nothing now that would give Hammerly a legal +hold on him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Mayberry was out of it, or so it seemed. He went +to work for the Mailsburg Addition Real Estate +Company, of which Mr. Fuller was known to be the +backer. It was a good deal of a come-down for Jim +Mayberry.</p> + +<p>On that wonderful day when Hammerly had carried +his point and had given the welfare of the business +into Ethel’s hands, the foremen of the shops had +been called in before the board and the situation +explained to them.</p> + +<p>They were not asked to express their opinion of +Jim Mayberry’s oversight of the factory, nor to explain +their own apparent shortcomings and the failure +of their several shops to keep up to the standard +of output established by Mr. Barton.</p> + +<p>Merely they were asked if they would be loyal to +the corporation, and if they were willing to work in +harmony with Ethel Clayton until such time as a +general superintendent could be found to take Mayberry’s +place. These questions brought enthusiastic +and unanimous affirmative responses.</p> + +<p>But a willingness upon the part of all the hands +was not all that was needed. When a manufacturing +plant, either in its mechanical part or in its working +force, has been allowed to deteriorate, it is uphill +work to get it back on a firm foundation.</p> + +<p>Ethel felt that with the good teamwork of the +office force which she could depend upon, her burden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> +at that end would be light. In the factory administration +lay her difficult problem.</p> + +<p>She depended on Benway Chase in no inconsiderable +degree, as she knew he had gained a working knowledge +of the factory affairs. Benway had continued +to make himself acquainted with practical things +and much shoplore. The foremen liked him, too, +and would discuss things with the young fellow that +they might have been chary of talking over with +“the lady boss,” as they began to call her.</p> + +<p>There was not an ounce of business jealousy in +Ethel Clayton’s makeup. She gave Benway all the +encouragement possible, and after the first two weeks +she reported to the board that she could not possibly +carry on the work at all were it not for Benway, or +somebody equally efficient and willing in his stead.</p> + +<p>Since the news of the air raid on the American camp +in France, Benway had been even gentler and more +considerate of Ethel than before; but there was, too, +a certain aloofness in his manner which the girl quite +understood.</p> + +<p>He had captured Ethel’s secret. His own love +for her had given him an immediate key to her +emotion when she first saw the headlines spread over +the news sheet. Frank Barton’s peril had caused her +to betray her feeling for him to the love-sharpened +vision of Benway.</p> + +<p>Since that time no news save that he was still +missing had come of Frank Barton. It was well<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> +Ethel’s mind was so filled with business matters and +that her every waking hour was occupied by the +affairs of the Hapwood-Diller Company. She had +no opportunity of dwelling in thought upon that +line in the casualty list that had not been explained: +“<i>Lieut. F. Barton, Field Artillery, missing</i>.”</p> + +<p>When the clergyman prayed on Sunday for those +who had gone “over there” to fight in their country’s +cause, Ethel thought of but one person. It seemed +to her as though the whole war—the fate of a worldwide +democracy—was as nothing compared to the +mystery of what had happened to Frank Barton.</p> + +<p>She was not alone in this desire to know the fate +of the general manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company. +Mrs. Trevor came more than once to discuss +the mystery with her. She began to learn how many +friends Frank Barton really had in Mailsburg. His +cheerful, kindly spirit had won him a following of +which any man might feel proud.</p> + +<p>Mr. Macon Hammerly had used his influence to +make inquiry. But the War Department, like most +large bodies, moves slowly. The questions from +Lieutenant Barton’s friends were not the only fear-fraught +queries that must be answered.</p> + +<p>Nobody in Mailsburg, it seemed, had heard from +any of the town’s sons who had gone to France when +Barton went. The boys drafted from the town were +still in the training camps on this side of the water. +As far as Ethel could learn no one had heard directly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> +from Morrison Copley or Charles Bradley since that +tragic happening.</p> + +<p>Ethel’s pillow was often wet at night because of +Frank Barton’s fate; but by day the business difficulties +that faced her held her mind in thrall. She +began to appreciate more than ever before what Barton +himself had gone through when he had first taken +hold of the job of putting the Hapwood-Diller Company +on a paying basis.</p> + +<p>And she had problems to solve that Barton had +not been obliged to consider. In two years and a +half circumstances had greatly changed. The labor +situation was one of the hardest of Ethel’s enigmas.</p> + +<p>Besides the hundred or more men who had been +drafted from the shops, and others who had enlisted, +many of the best mechanics had gone away to work +in munition plants where the wages were vastly +higher than the Hapwood-Diller Company could +afford to pay.</p> + +<p>This had brought into the shops a class of workmen +who were not, to say the least, high grade. There +was unrest among them, too. Having no feeling of +loyalty for the corporation, these new workmen were +really a menace to the peaceful conduct of the business.</p> + +<p>Little troubles rose almost daily, many of which +could not be settled by the shop foremen. After +all, the absence of a strong hand over the factory as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> +a whole, began to be felt. And Ethel realized this +lack quite as soon as anybody.</p> + +<p>With the old hands she would have had some personal +influence. With the new workmen—many of +them foreigners—she could do little.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry was a burly man, and not afraid to +“bawl a man out” if occasion arose. If he threatened +to knock a man down he looked as though he could +do it. That may not be the most approved way of +keeping a lot of unruly workmen in order; but it is +often efficacious.</p> + +<p>Benway Chase could merely be Ethel’s errand boy. +Benway felt his limitations keenly. “If I only had +a good right arm!” he groaned more than once.</p> + +<p>“No use worrying about that, Bennie,” she said. +“We must find some way to manage besides knocking +their heads together. There are only a few who +make trouble. Don’t you think we can get rid of +them?”</p> + +<p>But labor was so scarce and the factory was so +crowded with orders that she shrank from such a +drastic course. She had an intuitive feeling, too, +that the discharge of certain trouble-makers would +bring other trouble-makers to the surface.</p> + +<p>More than once she was stopped in front of the +office or on her way home by some worker grown +bold by the changed condition of affairs.</p> + +<p>“What about more wages, Miss?” one burly man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> +asked her, quite abruptly. “If wages don’t go up +soon, I quit.”</p> + +<p>“Everything is so high, my wife says I’ve got to +earn more,” was what a tall, thin workman told her +right in front of her own home. And two days later +both of these men demanded their time and left.</p> + +<p>“It sure is getting worse every day,” was the way +Benway Chase put it. “I don’t see how it’s going +to end.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe we’ll have to shut down,” Ethel answered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you don’t mean that!”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t. But there is no telling what will +happen,” said the girl, soberly.</p> + +<p>She felt that poison was seeping into the working +force from without. Nothing she could say or do +would stop it. The foremen admitted that the tone +of the shops had entirely changed. If they were +able to get a fair day’s work turned out they were +doing well. And many of the men did their stint +grudgingly.</p> + +<p>The wages of all the hands had been advanced +twice since Frank Barton had first taken hold of the +corporation. Had business remained good and profits +increased, it had been his intention, Ethel knew, to +ask the board of directors for another advance at the +end of the third year.</p> + +<p>But with affairs in the mess they were—a quarterly +dividend passed and the output decreased—there<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> +would be no hope of following out this intention of +the absent general manager.</p> + +<p>Many factories in neighboring towns had turned +to war work of one kind or another. But the machinery +of the Hapwood-Diller Company, built for +special need, could not be used on any war work +that Ethel had ever yet heard of.</p> + +<p>The factory of the defunct Bogata Company was +being used for munition work. People from Mailsburg +were flocking to Norville, attracted by the high +wages. One by one the Hapwood-Diller Company’s +best workmen left and went to work at the Norville +plant.</p> + +<p>Ethel’s report to the board was sure to be a report +of failure. She realized that she did not measure up +to the demands of her position. To claim she was +helpless would not absolve her from the fact she was +a failure. That could not be cloaked.</p> + +<p>This was her job. She had accepted it. If she +could not make good she should give it up. She +began to feel that Ethel Clayton might be a good +enough hack; but she lacked the ability necessary to +carry her to the front in the business race. She +was away back in the ruck.</p> + +<p>These were her feelings and meditations one evening +when, after the others had gone, she still remained +in the office, as she often did.</p> + +<p>Her work for the day was done. Hours of consideration, +it seemed, would not aid her in making<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> +the figures on the credit side of the ledger add up to +a larger sum than the figures on the debit side.</p> + +<p>She stood with her back to her desk, hands gripping +its edge, her eyes emptily staring at the wall. +Her mental vision was alert, not her physical.</p> + +<p>If Frank Barton could only return! If he would +only walk in at that door—just to advise with her, +to hearten her, to suggest to her agitated mind some +scheme by which she might put life into this business.</p> + +<p>Would she ever see him again now that he had +marched away? Her mind pictured the marching +past of that host of high-hearted men and boys, +bound for a foreign shore from which many necessarily +would never return. And it seemed Frank +Barton was one of the very first to be lost to the +knowledge of his friends—lost to those who loved +him!</p> + +<p>The outer door banged open heavily. She knew +John Murphy had not yet gone home, and she looked +up expecting to see his grizzled visage.</p> + +<p>Instead it was the sharp and eager features of +Mabel Skinner. The younger girl came in like a +whirlwind.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Ethel! Miss Clayton!” she gasped. “Guess!”</p> + +<p>“Guess what?”</p> + +<p>“Guess what I just heard down at Rhyncamp’s +store! That Marble girl was there! You know—the +Marbles who live right next to the Fuller house.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>“I know. What of it?” asked Ethel, excited, +though she did not know why she should be.</p> + +<p>“She’s chums with that Fuller girl. You know—Grandon +Fuller’s daughter Helen. She went to +France to join the Red Cross.”</p> + +<p>Ethel’s clasped hands showed her interest. She +could not speak. Her eyes searched the vivid face +of Little Skinner pleadingly.</p> + +<p>“The Marble girl’s just got a letter from Helen +Fuller. I heard her tell Mr. Rhyncamp. Miss +Fuller is nursing in a hospital over there somewhere. +She says her very first patient was Mr. Barton. He +ain’t dead, then, Miss Clayton! He ain’t dead! He’s +only wounded! Oh, Miss Clayton!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII<br> + +<small>COMPARISONS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mabel Skinner’s</span> news was true. The letter Miss +Marble had received told the story from Helen Fuller’s +standpoint. But let the heroics in it be the nine +days’ wonder of Mailsburg. Here are the facts:</p> + +<p>Frank Barton came to his senses slowly and found +himself upon a cot, one of a long line, in a ward of +the base hospital at Lovin, as the place may be called, +without the first idea of how he got there. His last +memory was of facing the crew of the German air-raider +with Helen Fuller clinging to his arm and making +it impossible to defend her or himself or to deal +effectively with the enemy before them.</p> + +<p>“Where—where am I?” he stammered. “What +happened?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank!” squealed a voice, and some one in +correct nurse’s garb stood beside him. “You’re +not going to die, are you? Isn’t that just <i>dear</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, heavens!” groaned Lieutenant Barton, in +something like despair. “<i>You</i> here?”</p> + +<p>Were Frank Barton’s eyes at last seeing truly? It +was, perhaps, the most impolite speech he had ever +made. But he was very weak and still a little lightheaded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>Had the quiet-faced French matron of the ward +understood much English, she surely would have removed +Miss Fuller from attendance on the lieutenant +almost at once. As it was he had to listen to the +girl’s fulsome praises and silly ejaculations.</p> + +<p>It was not until some time later that Barton learned +just what had happened after he had been hit with +the sharp stone and had handed his weapon to the +distracted Helen.</p> + +<p>“Why, that Heinie used to pitch in one of the bush +leagues,” Morrison Copley told Barton, when he +came to see his lieutenant. “Lived ten years in +America and then went back to fight for Kultur. +Something’s going to happen to him, for the lieutenant +in command of the airship declares all bets off. He +had warned his men not to fight.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder what they had in their mind when they +started for me. Going to kiss me, I suppose,” Barton +suggested weakly.</p> + +<p>“Bah jove! that’s a good one,” said Morry. “I +must tell that to Brad. Say, that lad got ‘mention’ +in general orders for capturing the gang. But he +walks right up to the colonel, and says: ‘Colonel, it +wasn’t much to capture fourteen men that were not +armed. How about Lieutenant Barton who tackled +them single handed and perhaps helped bring the +old Zep down anyway?’”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” commented Barton. “Good of +Bradley. But, really, I did no more than another<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> +man would have done. Those poor people in the +car that were blown to bits——”</p> + +<p>“And it was a car that followed on behind that +one that picked you and Mam’zelle Hélène up,” +grinned Morry, “and brought you cross country to +Lovin. That’s how you were lost trace of. Guess +the folks at home must think you evaporated into +thin air, Lieutenant. But they’ll know the truth +very soon now. I’ve written home about you.”</p> + +<p>But that was not entirely satisfactory to Frank +Barton. He wanted to write himself. He had a +strong and particular reason for writing, and to a +particular girl.</p> + +<p>Aside from the wound in his head—a wound which +would always leave a scar—his right arm was strapped +tightly to his side. He had a fracture of the shoulder +that made a cast necessary and would entail a long +convalescence. Frank Barton’s active military career +was halted before it was much more than begun.</p> + +<p>The delayed report of his wounds did not officially +reach Mailsburg until after both Helen’s letter to +Miss Marble and Morrison Copley’s “open letter” +to the Mailsburg <i>Clarion</i> were received. Barton was +the first of the town’s boys reported under fire +and the first to suffer injury in the war.</p> + +<p>A delayed letter from Ethel had reached Barton +soon after he found himself established in the hospital +ward with Helen Fuller hovering about him a good +part of every day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>“Business, I suppose, Frank?” she observed when +she saw the name and address on the back of the envelope. +“<i>Can’t</i> those factory people let you alone, +you poor dear boy, even when you are <i>wounded</i> so?”</p> + +<p>Barton felt like speaking impolitely again. But +he had command of himself now. Nevertheless +Helen continued to rasp his nerves on more than one +subject. Had he been blessed with another nurse +he would have dictated an answer to Ethel’s letter. +There was a tone to it—a wistfulness which the girl +had been unable to hide—that deeply moved the +wounded lieutenant.</p> + +<p>The missive was written before Ethel had been +made assistant manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company; +yet even then she felt the burden of her position +and would have been glad of any bit of kindly advice +he might have sent her. But for three weeks, at +least, he must remain silent. He had never learned +to write with his left hand like Benway Chase.</p> + +<p>He proved to be a patient <i>blessé</i>, and both the +physicians and nurses praised him. That he had +come to a French hospital was rather unfortunate, for +Barton’s knowledge of French was slight. He had +to make most of his desires known through Helen +and therefore was at a disadvantage.</p> + +<p>She frankly encouraged the appearance of a closer +association between them than was the case. A few +months before Frank Barton would have been delighted<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> +at such intimacy with Helen Fuller. But +he was quite aware now of her shortcomings.</p> + +<p>Even her association with the Red Cross was a +play. It was a part of her unquenchable desire to +show off all the time. Had Barton been really left to +her small mercies he realized that it would have gone +hard with him. She kept her interest in him as a +patient only because of the romance of their adventure +together at the time of the air raid.</p> + +<p>He could not forget how small and light a part she +had played at that time. He hoped that no other +American girl in France would prove herself so great +a coward as Helen Fuller had on that momentous +occasion.</p> + +<p>He began to feel a distaste for her glowing beauty—a +beauty of coloring and feature and texture of +skin and hair only, without character or intelligence +looking out of the eyes or showing in the face.</p> + +<p>In the warmth of the first few days of their sojourn +at the hospital even so modest a man as Frank Barton +saw plainly that he was being given the opportunity +to declare himself. Helen was waiting for +him to respond to her advances.</p> + +<p>When he did not respond she began finally to be +piqued, then angry. She had herself transferred to +another ward. Her absence did not increase Barton’s +temperature, the chart at the head of his cot +remained normal.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>This rift between them was noted and remarked +on by some of the other nurses. At last Helen took +offence, had her mother telegraph her from Paris, +and obtained a furlough and departed from Lovin +without bidding Frank good-bye.</p> + +<p>He did not miss her, save in a relieved way. He +had compared her with another girl—another of +whom he had never thought before as other than a +business associate—and found that Helen Fuller was +dwarfed in the comparison.</p> + +<p>Thinking of Ethel as he lay in his hospital cot, he +was amazed to discover how much that was really +worth while he knew about her. Important things, +too—individualities and phases of character that now +revealed Ethel Clayton as a girl eminently worthy +of consideration.</p> + +<p>The girl he had left behind was all that Helen +Fuller proved not to be. He was confident that +Ethel would not have shown the white feather as +Helen had at the time of the German air raid. No +girl who had so courageously taken up the additional +burden of responsibility in the Hapwood-Diller +Company offices could be a coward in any particular.</p> + +<p>The vision of Ethel Clayton grew in his mind. His +thoughts centered about her. He began to wonder +what her attitude would be toward him if he should +go back home and see her again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>It was not interest in the Hapwood-Diller Company +that was drawing his heart to Mailsburg during +these days. He did not give a fig for business. +His heartstrings were attuned to a much tenderer +emotion. He was gradually beginning to see things +in their proper light.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV<br> + +<small>OPENING THE WAY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ethel</span> heard of Barton in several ways during the +next few weeks, but never by personal letter. She +understood the reason for that, however, for Morrison +Copley had quite freely explained the lieutenant’s +wounds and his helpless condition in the <i>Clarion</i>.</p> + +<p>“Thank the good Lord ’tain’t his legs nor his eyes,” +Mrs. Trevor said. “When a man can’t see to read +and he can’t get about on his own pins he ain’t no +use to himself, nor to nobody else.”</p> + +<p>Ethel did not fail to write to the wounded man, +and that frequently. When these letters should +reach Barton he would learn the particulars of the +important changes in the Hapwood-Diller offices, +and something, too, of Ethel’s troubles and perplexities.</p> + +<p>But she had no idea that it was something entirely +different from office news that the hungry-hearted +absentee wished for.</p> + +<p>The explanation of the mystery touching Frank +Barton’s wounds and his confinement in the hospital +relieved Ethel’s anxiety to a certain degree. But +there was one thing that seriously pricked her thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> +at all times. Helen Fuller was with the wounded +man!</p> + +<p>Miss Marble had made Helen’s letter broadly +public. Other people in Mailsburg noted the fact +that Helen’s first patient was the general manager of +the Hapwood-Diller Company. It is the easiest +thing in the world for gossip to put such a two and +two together and make four.</p> + +<p>It was remarked that before Barton had gone to +the officers’ training camp at Quehasset he had been +seen much with Helen Fuller. His interest in her +had been noted.</p> + +<p>Now the gossips declared their association on the +other side could lead to but one conclusion. Somebody +offered a bet in Ethel’s hearing, two to one, +that there would be a wedding at the American Embassy +in Paris just as soon as Lieutenant Barton was +allowed to leave the base hospital at Lovin.</p> + +<p>However, relieved by her knowledge of Barton’s +safety, Ethel Clayton tried to give all her attention +to the task she had accepted when she was practically +hoisted into Barton’s place.</p> + +<p>Hammerly and a few of the other directors cheered +her; Grandon Fuller sneered and continued to acclaim +openly that a girl at the head of the business spelled +ruin for the Hapwood-Diller Company.</p> + +<p>“Don’t mind that grouch, Ethel,” Macon Hammerly +said. “We’ve put a ring in his nose, and like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> +any other hog he squeals over the operation. But such +squealing never yet did any hurt.”</p> + +<p>“It gets on one’s nerves most awfully, just the +same, Mr. Hammerly,” the girl said with a sigh.</p> + +<p>She had not, however, come to the old man with +any empty complaint. The labor situation at the +factory was in a critical condition. The spoiled work +being turned back by the inspectors and foremen had +increased twenty per cent. Still the malcontents +complained of low wages.</p> + +<p>“To protect the corporation and to answer the +low wage complaint,” Ethel told Hammerly, “I have +certain drastic changes to suggest. I admit they are +diametrically opposed to the system inaugurated by +Mr. Barton; but Mr. Barton did not have the same +difficulties to deal with that we have now.”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t it so?” agreed the old man. “In those times, +Grandon Fuller was trying to rope Frank, just as he +afterward noosed Mayberry. Go on, Ethel. You’ve +got good sense, I know.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. At least, I have the interests of +the corporation at heart. If I fail as manager I +lose more than your good opinion, Mr. Hammerly.”</p> + +<p>“By Henry! you ain’t goin’ to fail, girl,” cried the +man.</p> + +<p>“But I am desperate. Desperate enough to change +the entire system of the factory if the board of directors +will back me. Look at this, Mr. Hammerly.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>She displayed her carefully drawn up plans. The +important change was the shifting from a flat payment +of labor at so much per hour, graduated according +to the skill of the workmen, to a piecework scale +of wages which she had scheduled with the assistance +of Benway Chase.</p> + +<p>“I believe it will answer the complaint of low pay. +Our best men will be encouraged to remain with us +instead of going to the munition factories. The +dissatisfied workmen will be those less skilled and +we can the more easily replace them if they leave,” +Ethel explained.</p> + +<p>Macon Hammerly’s approval was instant, and with +his backing Ethel’s scheme was sure to be agreed to +by the board. But to put it into force without opposition +was more than could be expected.</p> + +<p>The better class of workmen in the factory when +consulted quietly before the posting of the notices, +were eager to give the plan a trial. Many of them +owned their own homes in Mailsburg and had hesitated +to leave their employment at the Hapwood-Diller +factory despite the temptation of higher wages +elsewhere. The chance to increase voluntarily their +incomes by speeding up found favor.</p> + +<p>There were incendiary fellows, however, ready instantly +to decry the change. They could see no good +in it. It was a trick on the part of the corporation to +underpay the bulk of the laboring force employed in +the factory.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>This cauldron of trouble continued to bubble and +steam up to the very Saturday before the installation +of the new system of payment. At closing time that +afternoon it was already dark; but many of the workmen +left the factory gate only to remain in the side +street where they milled like cattle on the verge of a +stampede. They talked in noisy groups. There +was something on foot and whether or not they knew +just what it was to be, both the satisfied workmen and +the dissatisfied remained.</p> + +<p>An automobile with two sputtering gasoline torches +in it appeared at last and drove slowly through the +noisy crowd to the corner, where it stopped in view +of both the door of the factory offices and of the workmen’s +entrance gate. A burly figure in a greatcoat +and goggles was behind the steering wheel of the car. +In the tonneau was a little, black-haired, foreign looking +man who stood on the seat to speak to the crowd +that at once surged near.</p> + +<p>“That is Mr. Schuster!” Ethel Clayton ejaculated, +looking from the office window that best overlooked +the corner. She had remained after the bulk +of the office force had gone; but Mabel Skinner was +with her.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know who that one may be,” said the +younger girl, “but it’s Jim Mayberry’s car and that’s +Jim himself all camouflaged up with goggles and a +long coat. Let’s go down there, Miss Clayton, and +listen to what that crazy man’s saying. He waves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> +his arms around like they was unhinged—just the +same as his brain is.”</p> + +<p>The girls were about to leave the offices in John’s +care when the street-corner forum convened. Ethel +was worried.</p> + +<p>“Is the side gate locked, John?” she asked the porter.</p> + +<p>“I don’t s’pose it is yet, ma’am,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Go out and bar it and warn the night watchmen +to be on their guard. Nobody must be allowed to +enter the gate to-night—not even a foreman if one +should return. And be sure the main door is locked +after us.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” grinned John. “And will you call +out the military?”</p> + +<p>Ethel feared, however, that it might be no laughing +matter. Mabel Skinner was eager to go to the +corner and hear what the man had to say; Ethel +accompanied her, fearing the sharp tongue of the +younger girl would get her into trouble in the rough +crowd.</p> + +<p>Schuster was Mr. Grandon Fuller’s personal representative, +Ethel was sure. And Jim Mayberry’s presence +made certain the identity of the influence which +was seeking to stir up trouble for the Hapwood-Diller +Company and its girl manager.</p> + +<p>Jim Mayberry caught sight of Ethel almost as soon +as the two girls reached the corner. He turned and +called Schuster’s attention to Ethel. The fox-featured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> +little lawyer instantly seized the opportunity +for making a point in his speech.</p> + +<p>“Here you are, men! You fellows under petticoat +government! Here’s your lady boss come out to +laugh at you. You big, brawny, husky fellows ought +to be proud of yourselves—bossed by a girl! Tied +to her apron strings!”</p> + +<p>He added something more vulgar that drew a laugh +from a certain portion of the throng. Jim Mayberry +turned and pushed up his dust goggles, leering into +Ethel’s white and disgusted face. Mabel Skinner +quite lost her self-control.</p> + +<p>“You’re in nice work now, ain’t you, Jim Mayberry?” +she scoffed at the former superintendent of the +factory. Then she screamed at the crowding men: +“You big galoots! You goin’ to let that little fice +up there insult a lady like Miss Clayton? And don’t +you see who’s egging him on—and egging <i>you</i> on to +riot and trouble? He’s asking you to pull his chestnuts +out of the fire. It’s Jim Mayberry—Mayberry, +the man that’s sore because the board kicked him out +as superintendent and put Miss Clayton into his +place. Aw, say! You all know Jim Mayberry!”</p> + +<p>This raised a laugh which drowned out the lawyer’s +vitriolic words. Mayberry reached for Little Skinner, +his face inflamed and ugly.</p> + +<p>“You brat!” he growled. “I’ll teach you——”</p> + +<p>He did not finish the remark. As his clutching +hand descended upon the girl’s shoulder a figure<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> +jumped upon the running board of the automobile +on the other side.</p> + +<p>“Beating up a girl would be about your size, Jim +Mayberry!” exclaimed Benway Chase, and with all +the force of his good left arm he struck the former +superintendent of the factory in the face.</p> + +<p>Mayberry uttered an oath and swung around. +Benway met him with a second blow—this time landing +on the nose. In a moment the victim’s face was +covered with blood.</p> + +<p>“Go it, Bennie! Hit him again!” shrieked Mabel, +jumping up and down in her excitement.</p> + +<p>Ethel was horrified; but Little Skinner became the +primitive woman cheering on her particular hero.</p> + +<p>Mayberry got up from behind the steering wheel +and cast himself blindly upon the striking Benway. +The latter gave ground, leaping back off the car. +Mayberry plunged after him. In a moment they +had clinched and were down in the street, striking at +each other, Benway silent but Mayberry swearing +and threatening.</p> + +<p>It was at this moment that Macon Hammerly +appeared with a policeman. The latter refused to +observe the incipient riot around the two men on the +ground, but stepped up and tapped Schuster on the +arm.</p> + +<p>“Hey, you!” he said to the little lawyer, “where’s +your permit?”</p> + +<p>“‘Permit?’”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>“Permit to speak on the street ’cordin’ to the city +ord’nance made an’ pervided. Ain’t got none?” +went on the officer. “Come along with me, then,” +and he jerked Schuster off the automobile seat as +though he were a child and started at once down town +with him.</p> + +<p>“I reckon,” Hammerly said to Ethel with a grin, +“that Grandon forgot that small point. There almost +always is some vital point, Ethel, that a villain +overlooks.</p> + +<p>“Now, you come on with me, girl. There’s something +I want you to be in on. I was coming up +after you when I saw this gang here and sicked the +policeman on to that little Schuster. Come on.”</p> + +<p>The whirl of events had quite taken Ethel’s mind off +of Benway Chase and his fight with Mayberry. But +Mabel Skinner had darted around the car, vitally +determined to lend her hero aid if he needed it.</p> + +<p>Benway needed no help. Had it been so, there +seemed to be quite a number in the crowd disposed +to be his friends.</p> + +<p>“Let the young boss alone,” one said. “It ain’t +beef that counts. The young boss has got the spirit +to lick his weight in wildcats.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Bennie! Oh, Bennie!” burst forth Mabel Skinner. +“Don’t you let that big loafer hurt you!”</p> + +<p>“I won’t,” promised Benway, rising quite self-possessed +and scarcely marred by the scrimmage. +“He doesn’t want to fight.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>This seemed quite true. At least, Jim Mayberry +had very quickly got enough. He stood up painfully, +climbed into his car awkwardly, and drove +away, amid the jeers of the onlookers, without even +an additional threat.</p> + +<p>The bubble of his reputation as a fighter was +pricked. Some of the older workmen lingering near +mentioned the fact that the ex-superintendent of the +factory had been but a bag of wind after all. “The +young boss,” as they had come to call Benway +Chase, had “licked him with one hand.”</p> + +<p>The latter slipped out of the crowd as quickly as +possible. Mabel Skinner was clinging to his good +arm and it was not until they were a full dark block +away from the scene of the disturbance that he discovered +the girl was crying.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Benway, +utterly aghast at the idea of self-possessed Little +Skinner giving way to tears. “Are you hurt?”</p> + +<p>“No—no, sir, Mr. Chase. I ain’t hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Then why are you crying?” he demanded, snuggling +the girl closer to his side.</p> + +<p>“I—I was afraid you might be,” she confessed.</p> + +<p>“But, I’m not! That big chump never hurt me a +mite!”</p> + +<p>“Then I—I guess I’m crying for joy,” sobbed Mabel. +“If he’d hurt you, Mr. Chase, I guess I’d have <i>died</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Huh! Why the ‘Mr. Chase?’ Wasn’t I ‘Bennie’ +a while back when you were rooting for me? Why,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> +Mabel, I couldn’t have lost out with you yelling +your head off that way on the side lines!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Bennie!” she gasped.</p> + +<p>It was a very dark corner. When they strolled +out into the next circle of lamp light, Benway’s arm +was around the girl’s shoulders and she was looking +up into his face with such an ecstatic expression on +her own that had Boots Skinner seen it he certainly +would have been held fast in his tracks.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV<br> + +<small>COMPENSATION</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Macon Hammerly</span> offered no explanation at all +as he led Ethel in the direction of High Street, quite +in the opposite way from her usual walk at this hour +of the evening. But he was pleasantly chatty just +the same.</p> + +<p>In spite of his gruffness and homely speech, if he +liked the grain dealer could show a less prickly side +to his character, and he always showed that glossed +side to Ethel Clayton.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you make no mistake, girl,” he now observed. +“Your plan is going to have a fair trial, +and we’ll have no such riot scene staged again as that +to-night. Maybe I ain’t got all the political influence +Grandon Fuller blows about; but I’ve got him about +sewed up in a bag and he ain’t going to trouble you—he +nor his hirelings—much more.</p> + +<p>“He was trying to pull the wool over Barton’s eyes +when Barton went away, I believe. I trusted to +Frank’s natural horse sense to keep him out of any +scrape with Grandon. But they do say he’s gone and +fallen for that flibbertigibbet daughter of the Fullers. +I expect those nurses have a great advantage over a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> +man. Like enough every one of ’em’ll be married +to some poor sinner before this war’s over,” and he +grinned.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Hammerly!” Ethel gasped. “Maybe I’d +better go as a nurse,” she added, smiling.</p> + +<p>“<i>You?</i> Shucks! There ain’t no need for you to +fish. The fellers will all be after you. I’m going to +live ten years longer and dandle two or three of your +babies on my knee. Come on! Here’s where we turn +in.”</p> + +<p>He led her into the law office of Alfred Gainor. +The attorney had a visitor who rose hastily to go +when Hammerly, with Ethel behind him, entered the +private office.</p> + +<p>“No, don’t run away, Grandon,” said the grain +merchant in his very harshest tone. “I told Gainor +to get you here for just this purpose.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Hammerly?” growled the +other. “I have nothing to say to you at present.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t expect you have. But I’ve got something +to say to you, and you’d best listen.”</p> + +<p>“If you’ve come to me to plead for my favor on +this girl’s behalf——”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the kind! Nothing of the kind!” reiterated +Hammerly. “There won’t be no pleading on +our side, I assure you, Grandon. And Ethel’s here +because she’s got a vital interest in what’s going to +be done.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>“You will,” observed Hammerly grimly.</p> + +<p>“What do you expect to interest me in, man?” +demanded Grandon Fuller with a less ruffled demeanor.</p> + +<p>“I’m going to interest you in two or three things, +Grandon,” said the old man composedly, while the +lawyer looked on as though he quite understood. +“I’m going to interest you first of all in the specification +sheet of the Kimberly Binding Company order. +And then I’m going to link that up with a much more +important paper that you ain’t seen for ten years, +but that’s been on file here all that time since it was +probated and recorded. I mean Israel Diller’s will.”</p> + +<p>At this statement Grandon Fuller leaped to his +feet and advanced upon the old grain merchant with +inflamed countenance.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, you hoary-headed old scoundrel?” +he shouted. “Do you mean to tell me——”</p> + +<p>He halted, licked his thick lips, and his flabby pomposity +began to shrink. Hammerly nodded.</p> + +<p>“That’s it. Give a calf rope enough and it’ll hang +itself. I could sit here and bandy words with you +long enough to make you give yourself clean away. +For you ain’t a very brainy villain. Otherwise you +wouldn’t have used a trick the second time that served +you once—and that you had got away with, it seemed, +without raising suspicion.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you,” snarled Fuller. “What +are you talking about anyway?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>“I’m talking about forgery, Grandon—forgery and +substitution. The chemists and handwriting experts +are not alone able to swear to changes made on that +Kimberly schedule; they will swear to changes made +in the same way—and by the same hand—in Israel +Diller’s will!</p> + +<p>“Sit down, Grandon! Don’t fall down,” advised +Hammerly. “Mr. Mestinger, who drew Israel’s will, +being dead, you substitute your wife’s name for that +of Lorreta Clayton’s all through that instrument and +made Niece Mehitable instead of Niece Lorreta, the +principal legatee under the will.</p> + +<p>“I always had suspicions, but no proof. Not till +Ethel, here, showed me that Kimberly company +schedule and pointed out what that boy, Benway +Chase, first saw in it.</p> + +<p>“You’re caught, Grandon! You’re caught just as +hard and fast as I caught Boots Skinner the other +night setting hooks in the creek against the law. +I’m going to let Boots go this time, for he ain’t an +all around bad boy. Boots’ testimony is all I needed +to link up your principal henchman with your blackguarding +of the Hapwood-Diller Company. Jim +Mayberry’s a proved scoundrel as far back as that +Bogata Company matter, and I’m going to run him +out of town.</p> + +<p>“What I do with you, Grandon, depends entirely +on how much restitution you are willing to make to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> +Widow Clayton and her daughter here. If we go +to law about this it will cost a lot of money—and a lot +of scandal. You’ve made a heap of money one way +and another since you got those shares of the Hapwood-Diller +Company that was meant for Mrs. Clayton. +I’ll give you a chance.</p> + +<p>“You’ll give those shares your wife got from the +Israel Diller estate to Mrs. Clayton, with dividends +and accrued interest to date. You’ll sell all your other +holdings of the corporation’s shares to me, <i>and at the +low price which you’ve hammered them down to</i>!”</p> + +<p>“W—What! Never!” groaned Grandon Fuller.</p> + +<p>“That will automatically put you out of the Hapwood-Diller +Company’s affairs,” went on Macon +Hammerly, not heeding the interruption. “And I +guess that will help some; eh, Ethel?” he continued, +turning to the much interested girl.</p> + +<p>“Oh, is it true? Did he tamper with that will?” +cried the girl.</p> + +<p>“He did.”</p> + +<p>“It’s false! I never——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t try to deny it, Grandon. It’s true.” The +old grain merchant strode forward and towered +sternly over the other man. “Come, what is it to +be, a peaceful settlement or war?”</p> + +<p>“Gi—give me time to—to think.”</p> + +<p>“Time to play another trick, you mean. No, you’ve +got to decide now, at once, right here.”</p> + +<p>“You—you are hard. I can explain——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>“No explanation is necessary. I’ve got you just +where I want you. Will you settle or not?”</p> + +<p>Grandon Fuller arose to his feet. He was panting +hard.</p> + +<p>“I won’t do it!” he began and then he shrank back +before the steady gaze of Hammerly and Ethel. +“I—I—” He suddenly dropped into his seat, his face +a stricken gray. “Well, have your own way,” he +mumbled. “You’ve got me cornered.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI<br> + +<small>HIS AWAKENING</small></h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">One</span> evening, some weeks later, Ethel found herself +alone in the office. It was after working hours and +the others had gone home. She had still to work +late at times; but her plan of wage payment was already +proving successful.</p> + +<p>There was a new spirit in the shops. Some of the +old help were coming back for safety, and the possibility +of an increased income with the Hapwood-Diller +Company looked better to the married men, at least, +than a bulky pay envelope and the danger of sudden +death.</p> + +<p>In fact, for several weeks, since Grandon Fuller +had been eliminated from the affairs of the corporation, +Ethel had been able to prove her worth to the +board of directors. The business was running +smoothly. The girl had proved that sex was not an +insuperable barrier in the conduct of such a complicated +business as this of which she had charge.</p> + +<p>With the help of Benway Chase, who had been +advanced to a minor governing position in the factory, +Ethel was making good. She thought of this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> +cheerfully on this evening as she turned to snap out +the electric light above her desk, the last thing +before going out.</p> + +<p>Her hand was stayed by the quiet opening of the +office door. In the half-shadow of the entrance stood +a tall figure, the face of which she could not see. +Nor did she see but one hand when the visitor advanced +into the room and closed the door. Was it +a man with only one arm?</p> + +<p>Then she saw that the right arm was bandaged +to his side by a black silk scarf. He was in uniform.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Barton!”</p> + +<p>“Ethel!”</p> + +<p>She was half way to him on flying feet when she +realized what he had called her and how he had +spoken. She halted.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Barton! How you startled me! How glad I +am to see you!” she declared. “When did you +arrive?”</p> + +<p>“Just now. You are the first person I have seen +to speak to in Mailsburg,” he said, and strode forward +to greet her.</p> + +<p>“Your poor arm!” she murmured when she took his +offered left hand. Then she looked up and saw the +grim scar on his brow. It gave an entirely different +expression to his countenance. Indeed he seemed +to be an entirely different man from the Frank Barton +of old. He clung to her hand.</p> + +<p>“You—are you back for good? We have needed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> +you so! Now I can give the Hapwood-Diller Company +back into your hands,” she said.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid not yet,” Frank Barton replied gently. +“I have only a short furlough—till my shoulder completely +heals. I came across hoping to be of some +small help in recruiting or in Red Cross work while +I am debarred from more active service.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Barton! you will not really go back +again?” she cried, looking down at her hand still +crushed within his own.</p> + +<p>“Unless the war ends very soon,” he laughed. “I +know that you have been more than successful in +my job. Mr. Hammerly wrote me all about Jim +Mayberry and Grandon Fuller. I would not have +believed it of Jim. You have had a hard fight here, +Ethel; but you have overcome, you have succeeded.”</p> + +<p>She did not seek to draw away her hand, but still +looked down, refusing to meet his gaze.</p> + +<p>“How did you leave the other Mailsburg boys? +Mr. Copley, for instance?”</p> + +<p>“Fine!” he declared heartily.</p> + +<p>“And Miss Fuller?”</p> + +<p>“She and her mother returned on the <i>Lorraine</i> +with me. They were called home, it seems, by Mr. +Fuller’s business troubles. They have lost money, +they tell me, and will have to give up their big house +on the Hill.”</p> + +<p>“But that makes no difference to <i>you</i>, of course, +Mr. Barton?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>“Not the least,” he returned composedly. “I +am afraid I shall never become a favorite of Miss +Fuller’s. I could not stand petting while I was in +the hospital at Lovin, and it rather piqued my nurse.”</p> + +<p>Ethel looked up at him quickly. There was that +in his eyes she had never seen before. It held her +gaze captive.</p> + +<p>His single good hand released her hand. But +gently he drew her toward him, his hand behind her +shoulder. Her form yielded hesitatingly to his urging.</p> + +<p>“I cannot claim that patriotism brought me back +for these few weeks that I may remain, Ethel,” he +went on in a voice that suddenly became strangely +husky. “I wanted to see you—face to face.”</p> + +<p>There was an awkward pause. She felt his hand +on her shoulder tremble.</p> + +<p>“I can’t understand why it is that I never saw +you in just the same light that I have since I’ve +been away. But you have been in my thoughts +continually—the girl I left behind!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course—the business—” she began flutteringly.</p> + +<p>“No, it wasn’t the business, Ethel. It was you!” +he cried.</p> + +<p>“Me?” Her breast began to heave and her face +glowed. He bent low that he might catch her eyes.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowe28_125" id="i_268a"> + <img class="w100" src="images/i_268a.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption class="caption"><p class="caption">“You have been in my thoughts continually—the +girl I left behind.”</p> + +<p class="right">(<i>See page <a href="#Page_268">268</a></i>)</p></figcaption> +</figure> + + +<p>“Yes, you! I guess I was asleep, but I’m awake +now. We were so close day after day—and I was so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> +wrapped up in business—that I didn’t realize how +much you really meant to me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” It was the faintest kind of an exclamation. +She wanted to speak, but for once the “perfectly +capable person” could not say a word. Her heart +was pounding.</p> + +<p>“But it came to me all of a sudden, while I was in +the hospital and while that very fluttery Helen Fuller +was trying to wait on me. Then I realized what a +big difference there was in girls—and I realized that +you were the only girl in the world for me—the +only one!”</p> + +<p>Again there was a silence. But now she raised +her eyes to meet his and they were full of glorious +tenderness. He clutched her close to him with his +one good arm.</p> + +<p>“I love you—oh, how I love you!” he murmured. +“How I love you!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Bar——”</p> + +<p>“Ethel!”</p> + +<p>“Frank, then.”</p> + +<p>She spoke his name with such sweetness that it +almost overpowered him. It was as if she had suddenly +lifted the veil and was letting him look into her +very soul. He still held her close. Now he suddenly +kissed her, once, twice and again.</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” he said reverently. “Thank God!”</p> + +<p>In her soul she also thanked God for His goodness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> +in bringing this man to her. But she could not speak. +She could only cling tightly to him—and for a long +while he felt her heart beating close to his own.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Mrs. Trevor sat in a front seat in her shabby little +hat and Paisley shawl and frankly cried outright +during the ceremony.</p> + +<p>“But they’ll make a grand couple,” she sobbed. +“A grand couple—both of ’em so smart!”</p> + +<p>Macon Hammerly occupied a seat further back. +He sat with an expression of grim pride on his face, +as though he considered himself in some way the +father of this little romance.</p> + +<p>“My young folks—both of ’em,” he whispered to +a neighbor. “Sweetest gal in the world, barrin’ none—an’ +a fine fellow, too, believe me!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clayton was there, of course, dressed in the +best she had ever possessed. She felt like weeping, +but she did not, for was she not a Diller, and had she +not a family pride to maintain? Especially now, +when their financial affairs were so greatly changed?</p> + +<p>“Not that I do not consider Mr. Barton a very +fine man,” she confessed. “But I feel that Ethel +might do so much better in a social way if she would +only try. And really a soldier under orders has no +right to marry—especially when he has to go away +so soon. Worst of all, Ethel insists upon retaining +her position as manager of the Hapwood-Diller Company.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> +Well, now that we have such a large amount +in the business perhaps that is as well. The shares +are already at par again.”</p> + +<p>Benway Chase was there too and sat close beside +Mabel Skinner—a new Mabel, full of ambition and +who no longer chewed gum.</p> + +<p>“Some day we’ll do it too, Mabel,” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you go on!” she answered, but looked immensely +pleased nevertheless.</p> + +<p>The organ pealed forth and slowly the procession +moved down the aisle of the church, the bride leaning +lightly on the groom’s good arm. They came out +into the sunshine of the late winter day and both +Ethel in her veil and Barton in his khaki were glorified +by it. The automobile that was to take them to +the Clayton home was in readiness and they entered it.</p> + +<p>“Mine—mine at last!” he breathed, when they +were safe from the eyes of the curious crowd.</p> + +<p>“It’s like a dream—it doesn’t seem real!” she murmured, +with eyes that spoke volumes as she beamed +on him.</p> + +<p>“Only a week before I have to go to the front +again!” he groaned.</p> + +<p>“Let’s not think about that, Frank—let’s think +only about how happy we are.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Ethel.” He drew her closer, +glanced hastily around to make sure they were not +observed, and kissed her. “Wonderful, this getting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> +married, isn’t it? Beats business all hollow!” And +he smiled.</p> + +<p>She looked at him fondly, and suddenly a mischievous +dimple showed in each cheek. “Well, I +don’t know. If you have a perfectly capable person +for an assis——”</p> + +<p>“Ethel! You’ve sprung that on me twice since we +became engaged! Now as my wife you’ve got to +cut it out.”</p> + +<p>“What? Cut out being capable? And yet remain +manager while you are away?” And then, as she +saw he was really hurt she added swiftly and tenderly: +“Forgive me, Frank, that’s a dear! I’m so happy—so +furiously happy—I don’t know what I am saying +or doing!”</p> + +<p>He held her as close as he dared in such a public +place. “Mine! mine! mine!” he murmured over and +over again.</p> + +<p>Very softly she patted the free hand of the wounded +arm. Then she suddenly pressed it to her lips +and kissed it.</p> + + +<p class="center">THE END</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75475 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75475-h/images/cover.jpg b/75475-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4057167 --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/75475-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..123ab16 --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/i_004.jpg b/75475-h/images/i_004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eac98e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/i_004.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/i_005.jpg b/75475-h/images/i_005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f294cb --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/i_005.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/i_200a.jpg b/75475-h/images/i_200a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c61a53 --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/i_200a.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/i_227a.jpg b/75475-h/images/i_227a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e49b1c --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/i_227a.jpg diff --git a/75475-h/images/i_268a.jpg b/75475-h/images/i_268a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..720316e --- /dev/null +++ b/75475-h/images/i_268a.jpg |
