Part 67 (1/2)

”Ain't you no regard for a family man? I got a wife and kids dependent on me.”

”Well, do what Karl Marx did--let them starve or live on their own money while you prove that capital is as he said, 'a vampire of dead labor sucking the life out of living labor.' Or feed them on the wind you try to sell me.”

”Aw, have a heart! I talk too much, but I'm all right,” Jake pleaded.

Davidge relented a little. ”If you'll promise to give your mouth a holiday and your hands a little work I'll keep you to the end of the month. And then, on your way!”

”All right, boss; much obliged,” said Jake, so relieved at his respite that he bustled away as if victorious, winking shrewdly at Mamise--who winked back, with some difficulty.

She waited till he was a short distance off, then she murmured, quickly:

”Don't jump--but Nicky Easton is coming here in the next few days; I don't know just when. He told Jake; Jake told me. What shall we do?”

Davidge took the blow with a smile:

”Our little guest is coming at last, eh? He promised to see you first.

I'll have Larrey keep close to you, and the first move he makes we'll jump him. In the mean while I'll put some new guards on the job and--well, that's about all we can do but wait.”

”I mustn't be seen speaking to you too friendly. Jake thinks I'm fooling you.”

”G.o.d help me, if you are, for I love you. And I want you to be careful. Don't run any risks. I'd rather have the whole s.h.i.+pyard smashed than your little finger.”

”Thanks, but if I could swap my life for one s.h.i.+p it would be the best bargain I ever bought. Good-by.”

As she ran back to her post Davidge smiled at the womanishness of her gait, and thought of Joan of Arc, never so lovably feminine as in her armor.

CHAPTER V

Days of harrowing restiveness followed, Mamise starting at every word spoken to her, leaping to her feet at every step that pa.s.sed her cottage, springing from her sleep with a cry, ”Who's there!” at every breeze that fumbled a shutter.

But nothing happened; n.o.body came for her.

The afternoon of the Liberty Loan drive was declared a half-holiday.

The guards were doubled at the gates, and watchmen moved among the crowds; but strangers were admitted if they looked plausible, and several motor-loads of them rolled in. Some of them carried bundles of circulars and posters and application blanks. Some of them were of foreign aspect, since a large number of the workmen had to be addressed in other languages than English.

Mamise drifted from one audience to another. She encountered her team-mate Pafflow and tried to find a speaker who was using his language.

At length a voice of an intonation familiar to him threw him into an ecstasy. What was jargon to Mamise was native music to him, and she lingered at his elbow, pretending to share his thrill in order to increase it.

She felt a twitch at her sleeve, and turned idly.

Nicky Easton was at her side. Her mind, all her minds, began to convene in alarm like the crew of a s.h.i.+p attacked.

”Nicky!” she gasped.

”No names, plea.s.s! But to follow me quick.”

”I'm right with you.” She turned to follow him. ”One minute.” She stepped back and spoke fiercely to Pafflow. ”Pafflow, find Mr.