’ RII SYNOPSIS. Mark Truitt decides to leave his native town of Bethel to seek his fortune, His sweetheart, Unity Martin, encourages him in his project. Bimon Truitt tells his son that it long has been his dream to seo a steel plant at Bethel and asks him to return and build it if he ever gets rich, Mark arrives in the city and applies to Thomas Henley, head of the Quinby Iron works, for a job and is sent to tha con- struction gang. He makes a big success fn that work and Henley promises him a better job. CHAPTER V. Crossroads. It had been an unusually stubborn “hard-tap,” requiring quick and heavy gledging to break out the hardened fireclay and slag in the tap-hole. The slag that had floated on the metal was now dripping into the cinder pit, send- ing up a shower of golden sparks. Roman Andzrejzski, melter in charge of the furnace, was watching the scorched, haggard face of his “second helper.” That young man, leaning with an air of exhaustion and discour- agement on his inverted sledge, was coughing violently. He had been just three months in the heat and toil the open-hearth furnacemen must endure and an unnerving fear was upon him: that his steadily waning strength would not hold out. “Vat iss it? Zick?’ Roman spoke his habit when he used English. Mark shock his head. out.” “Tuckeredt out?” Roman | “1 don’t drink at all.” “That iss goot. Mineself,"” explained naively, “I drink too mug). Unt that iss not goot. turn,” he added. “It on the young. Later hardt-—zometimes. “With a Frenchman Rose alley—it stinks! the miils. it gets not so in Rose alley. It's too near n time, not vork but zleep.” picion at his chief. want my job for somebody else” sneered. “No. You are a goot vorker. I like you.” Unt fore.” “You do not belief me’ shrugged his big shoulders. you eat?” Roman tatoes guess.” “Humnfert t'ousandt defils! unt you vork here! can, you must eat. another place?” mostly. That's the friends. “Zo? They wouldn't But here,” be for himself. —Ve vork now.” returned to thelr task. down his face, shirt and a heavy overcoat. this covering his shivered when the raw, wind struck him. . “Vait!” And Roman was beside him. “lI hat decitedt. by my house.” “lI guess not,” Mark answered wear: ily, “I guess you don't want me.” “1 haf decitedt,” Roman repeated “You haf been goot friendts to your friendts—you vill be to us also. 1 haf a big house. It {ss etill there; you shall zleep unt not hear the mills. Unt my Matka, she iss goot cook. Unt meppy you make friends vit my Plotr. He hass no American friendts.” “You might get tired of me.” “Zo? Then vill 1 tell you,” sald Roman simply. “Alzo, you vill tell us, ven you get tiredt of us. Unt you vill not be chargedt too much. You vill come?” Mark hesitated, then laughed grim. . 1¥.- “Will 1 come!" “Goot!” Roman lald a kindly hand on Mark's shoulder. “Now vill you belief ma unt not vork till the coldt iss vell. You vill come tomorrow?” And, the matter arranged, they part- ed for the night, Roman's house, big only by com- parison with threeroom tenements, was on a quiet street on one of the city’s seven hills. Mark was tucked away In a third-story room. Not even his fancy, less lively than in months agone but still fertile, could conceive the cheap bed and rocker, rag carpet and unpainted table as the trappings of luxury. But it was clean and cons fortable, through its windows swept the clean air for which his country. bred lungs were starving and the mills were heard only as a subdued, not un- musical rumble. Also, immeasurable boon! there was in that house a bath. tub; hie attendance upon it astonished even Kazia, who esteemed bathing early April man's household. The Matka's cook- ing, supplemented by Kazia's arts, fell little short of Roman’® prospectus and the fare had substance. ¥ For three days, hearkening to Ro- man's counsel, he did nothing but sleep and eat. His cold disappeared. His flagging strength revived. Then he gave himself anew to the endless, narrow grind—toil, eat, sleep and toll again. Roman's house, it ia true, contained more than comfortable beds and a bathtub, a fact to which Mark gave at first but scant attention. There was Roman himself, in the mills a precise, patient, unflurried workman, outside a good-natured, impulsive giant, with a child's ungeverned appetite. There was Hanka, his wife, always called MatXa-—mother—a drab, shriveled lit- tle woman who after twelve years in Amesica had learned hardly a word of Enghish. Plotr was a greedy, usually sullen boy of eighteen, still in high school, always bent over his trouble- some books. He had a club foot and the heavy labor of the mills was not for him. “Piotr iss a goot boy,” Roman con- fided to Mark, “but he iss ashamedt that he iss Hunky. I am not ashamedt, He beliefs ven he iss smart with his | books he vill be American. But,” the | father sighed, “"Plotr iss not smart.” | Also, there was Kazia. At first Mark gave but passing no- tice to the girl who moved so quietly | He sat down out the problem. Then he led Plotr slowly through the equations thrice, | after which he let the boy begin un- aided a stumbling but finally success | ful pursuit of the elusive x, While Piotr was floundering, his | new mentor felt some one behind him. | He glanced around and caught Kazia, | her arms full of unwashed dishes, look- ing at him. The wonted indifference | had fled before a look of surprised | interest. Mark stared, incredulous; | it seemed not the same face. But the | new look vanished instantly. He had | a sense of bafMlement, as if he had | come upon a rare picture just as a | curtain was drawn. | “Fine!” he exclaimed, clapping Plotr | on the shoulder; he had not heard the | last few equations. “We'll make a | scholar out of you yet, Pete.” “Pete!” The boy's homely lighted up. “Kaszla, d!d you hear? calied me Pete” “I like Ptotr better,” she sald, with | a shrug that imperiled her burden. “Do you,” Plotr turned again Mark, “do*you know Latin, too?” i “Oh, a Httle!” Mark sought Kazia's | face as this announcement of his eru- fell. But Kazia was looking | face | He to | “And will you help me with that “Sure recklessly But Plotr was Sometimes,” Mark assented insatiable ‘Every | "Well, no,” sald Mark, recovering ecution Not every night. | can't “Of course not, Piotr,” Kazla cut in ‘He can’t waste time on a stupid little “I'm not a Hunky,” Plotr resented passionately, but you Kazia more n -Poles. But Americans now. Why, I've almost forgotten how to talk Polish except to the Matka,” he added con- scientiously “WH you help me tonight? he turned Mark, with It's Caesar And sighed Mark, ness, addressing “any were are. We are wo're We re- assurance I am stupid,” he to less though id repenting not well refuse rash For an his Cou Also, There Was Kazia. Having certain | What hopes Roman may have cher ished from the presence of a young | in his home were not at! Even when Mark had regained much | There was no night or morning when he did | after bathing aad his bed. Even with he could get his former | to seek the rest returned, i He did not mean to be selfish. | Sometimes at the end of a meal he | caught Roman's wistful glance and! ing in an obligation. But always he | went straightway to his room and his precious sleep, adhering rigidly to his routine-—toll, eat, sleep and toil again, hoarding bis strength as a mi ser hoards his gold. Had not Roman sald, “A man must be for himself?” And always there floated before him a picture so sweetly pathetic as almost to invoke tears: Unity, the faithful Penelope, trustingly awalting her ad: venturing lord's return. Thus the life fashioned him. It was no longer self-denial that he might earn gratification at another time, but self-control lest he go down In the melee. But one night he discovered Kazia— the real Kazia, CHAPTER VI. Melting Ore, A gentleman, who must pass down in history as Mr. A, led to the dis- covery. Mr. A, an oareman who could propel his boat five miles an hour in still water, undertook to row twenty- three miles up a river whose current ran two and one-half miles an hour, and back. The problem was: In how long did Mr. A accomplish this feat? And upon Piotr fell the duty of find. ing the solution. Piotr felt painfully Incompetent. “Na. milose Boga!” When Plotr dropped back Into Polish, deep emo- tion was stirring, It wae at the end of supper on a Sat. urday night when the other shift worked and Mark's rested for twenty: four hours, That day Henley, passing the furnaces, had spoken to him by name, leaving a glow that had not sub- eided. ® “What's the matter, Piotr?" “1 can't work this problem.” “Let me see I,” HH we could but measure our impulses! Plotr looked up astounded. know algebra?” “A little Mark took un the book "Do you * "Hmm ' fe x? Why, tha » easy.” told how he had taught the Vercingetorix is place But Kazia was not at any time pres ent during the lesson. At last, yawn- ing mightily, Mark arose. He went up to his room, bearing Plotr's awk- ward gratitude and followed by a look of humble admiration it is prob ably well he did not perceive Hut the incident had its sequel He found a light burning dimly in the narrow hallway before his door, nd coming out of his room-—-Kazia “1 was fixing things,” she ex- indifferent as ever, “Thank you, Kazla,” The room as He stood aside to let her pass She took one step and then stopped ‘What,” she demanded, “did you He smiled-—the smile of age for a naughty but amusing child “Because “But you know Latin and algebra and things.” Kazia?" “We don't. We're just millworkers ~and Hunkies.” He was not schooled in the reading of volces, but he caught bitterness there. He looked at her more Intent ly—and more kindly. “What,” she repeated resentfully, “did you come here for? You don't like us. You won't have anything to do with us. You eat, then go up to your room and stay there. We thought you were coming to be friends with Plotr”-an almost imperceptible pause “and me.” “i come up to sleep, Kazia. You see, 1 was pretty near on my last legs | when I came here and I need all the | rest | can get. I'm not used to work | in the mills and I guess I'm not so | strong as I look. If I'm going to get | ahead, I've got to do it while [ can! stand the work. Besides I didn't think | you cared whether I liked you or not.” | “1 don't,” she declared, with a little | uptilting of her chin; it was a beaut. | fully molded feature. The movement | called his eyes to the slender yet strong and rounded throat. He won- dered that these beauties had escaped his notice. “I don’t. But Plotr and Uncle Roman do.” “Uncle Roman?” time he had heard the phrase. thought he was your father, Kazia." “No. 1-1 have no father." “Oh!” He assumed a bereavement. On a sudden pitying impulse he put out his hand and laid it on her bare forearm; the flesh was smooth and firm. “That's too bad, Kazla." And then, most unexpectedly, the curtain was drawn aside for him. “1 won't be pitied!” With the cry fell away the Kazia he had known, as did Cinderella's tatters. In her place stood a girl who seemed taller, whose head was held in a fashion peculiar, in his books. to very proud and fine ladies. Her coves blazed defiance. She snatched | “rm awey. “Here they're It was the first i all ashamed. But I ain't ashamed. I won't have you pity me." This was mystery. But he did not press her for an explanation. He was more Interested in another phenom: enon. “Do you know you're mighty good-| looking, Kazia?" The ADETY deepened You're—" | “But I'm not laughing.” He caught | her arm again, gently. “I'm only sur- | prised. I didn’t think you were. But] you are--ghen you're Interested or] mad. Only please don’t be mad, be | cause—" What was this unconsidered | thing he was saying? The words ran | “Because I want to be friends | with you. Don't you want me to] stay?” i For a silent moment she looked at | erimson “Yes.” She turned abruptly and left him, descending the stairs without so | For a full minute he stood looking | he drew a long sighing breath #She’'s a queer one,” he muttered When he awoke, the late morning | But the eager | expectancy pervading him, as if some long planned holiday had dawned, was more than a reflection of this outer He bathed and dressed carefully And for the first time he perceived that his clothes, relic of Bethel days, lacked something when judged by city standards. He frowned at the image in the cheap mirror “lI must buy a new tered When he went downstairs he found Kazia bending over a window box in the dining room, three scarlet geranjums flamed. She heard his ap proach and turned slowly No deceptive half-light, but the full glory of spring sunshine, was upon her. She was Indifferent as ever. Hut the trans. formation held Oh! Hullo!” Hello!” she said quietly, and moved away toward the kitchen Kazia—" She paused Inquiringly Er—" he floundered morning.” “Yen,” she sald His remark he felt, hardly justified her detention. He groped about for a more fertile topic. “Fine geraniums you've got there, Kazia™ “Yes.” My goodness!” he laughed. “Is ves’ all you can say? Don’t you re member we agreed to be friends? “1 sald 1 wanted you to stay,” she corrected without enthusiasm “TH get your breakfast.” This time she ac complished her escape He sat at the table, loftily amused Probably—thus he considered her un responsiveness—the poor thing still doubted his sincerity And she had reason, beyond question; on the whole he had been selfish in his rigid seclu-| sion. He must repair that azla, bearing his breakfast, inter | rupted his musings. He surveyed ap suit,” he mut where “It's a fine - — stared at him from an otherwise empty page, and he was glowering out into the sunlit streets and wondering why Kazia wanted him to stay, why her indifference of the morning and why his disappointment, by below him, lessness and gave him an idea. “That's it, exactly, park. Poor girl! too.” tering A ladies’ might have been he was not. saw them at all, foot She and could be club her his flercely at But the smile disappeared upon his entrance, Nevertheless, "Kazla,” he announced boldly, “Are we?” “Well, aren't we? He modified his sultanesque air a little, to come.” ‘No.” “She's going with Jim Piotr explained grumpily. fellow.” “Oh!” “He's her Mark blinked stupidly discovered her It was strangely disturbing “You're late,” “All right,” ‘em out.” Then Kazia spoke her protest. “Piotr, can’t you see he's tired?” “But I can’t do ‘em.” “Plotr became sulky at once. “And I haven't failed once this week.” ‘Plotr, you're a greedy Hunky pig. she turned to Mark. “SBunday’s the double turn.” Was this the branch? ing then could persuaded him Piotr. But he saw an opening; he unlimbered a big gun and sent one shell screaming toward her camp. “You,” he said with crushing dignity, “will be walking in the park and won't care. Plotr, we're loging time.” She turned away so quickly that he could not judge his marksmanship. The lesson began and lasted until Plotr rushed off to school The double turn came and was duly endured, as are most of life's dreaded when they actually present But even Roman showed the effects of the long strain. When he reached home he began at once to his fatigue in huge potations. to his room There a surprise awaited him: clean clothes, neatly lald out—also Kazia, completed this kindly Mark sighed “Bring Noth- olive have ‘1 thought you'd like to clea ¥ ad up a “Thank you, Kazia You always ly “Berves me right. 1 took “I'll go with you,” Piotr volunteered promptly Oh, all right. Come along, Piotr “Pete,” corrected Plotr. “In a min- ute.” So, though not as he had planned, hin ernoon *lotr, anxious to impress thi wonderful boarder whose learning made light of the difficulties of Messrs A, B and C and defiled the intricacies of the subjunctive, talked, at first shyly, then more freely, mostly of him this being one of the two sub in which wae deeply InPer Mark let him ramble and listened y his thoughts, which chiefly concerned Kazia He ruef wished that he had not been so re to assume her assent Plotr's ambition, the monologue de veloped, soared high; it In table achievements as a labor although his conflict As they passed mouth of a lit tie dell they were halted by this tad leau Kazia against a tree and Jim Whiting at her feet tying the He was long about it, Mark thought He must have sald some thing for she laughed, a clear ringing The kneeling galiant arose Mark saw a man two or three years self, jects ested 16 on own ully ady cluded leader, historic no notions of the were a little vague the leaning note lips and loose jaw and “sporty” clothes. Mark disliked him at once Whiting took Kazia's arm and led her slowly along the dell ‘Psiakrew!” muttered Plotr, in Pole's deadly insult The face was pale, con vulsed with hate and a real suffering Even Mark, self-absorbed, could that, too heavy the homely “Never mind, Pete. She can't think much of him.” ‘He's not fit for her.” Piotr cried “Right!” Mark agreed firmly Piotr went further “Nobody's for her™ “Kazia's a mighty nice girl” declared, less sweepingly. “Yes, she's nice too, smarter'n me fit v She's smart as you.” “Sure, she is! But “No, not always.” Bhe moved toward the door—anx- fous to avoid him, as usual, he thought. He dropped into the chair, bury- ing his throbbing head in his hands. He supposed that she had gone But she had not gone. She stood uncertain in the doorway, watching the tired dejected figure he made Not always,” she repeated. The ready color mounted Sometimes I'm cranky when 1 don't want to be He glanced up, bewildered by this sudden striking of colors You hurriedly. He nodded stupidly, trying pid the fact look awful tired,” she went on io ETAsD once she was neither it's worse in summer, It that for hostile nor | ndifferent the heat It'll be hurts even Uncle nt stand it He roused himself Roman ther ‘ou ca can stand chard Courtney Yes, 1 {t—becauee | will Ri detected firmness shut mouth, would have a » grimly and men stand it » answered gravely t that ou make new WAY y make myself think so, laughed shortly earing her reason, of course, I guess.” He Then he observed that she was w white dress. the was obvious Was it a nice walk today? 1 didn't go *Oh'* He eagerly for an do you still very “Kazia, think Ir tuck-up and She shook her head slowly. "You've Piotr this week, when you've been so tired “Razia Before that honest foo, be been so nice to gaze Kazia, hink that But wanted me he had to honest ou t it to help him you § 9 was “No, it wasn't” “Then why? Her eyes looked unwaveringly Into “1 don't know,” she sald slowly Because you're different, I guess. You You A queer little of puzziement furrowed the brow as she groped for the words She sighed impatiently, for different. I thought I could learn “Will you go walking with me next me very well” Piotr jumped at the bait down on her because her mother — Piotr flushed-—"wasn't married.” So that was the reason for her out burst of the night before. Poor Kazia! 3 : 4 Rl a El ig | 0. a TAREE V/s J 7 “Kazia,” He Announced Boldy, “We're Going Walking in the Park.” provingly the dishes she set before him. “You're a fine cook, Kazia. Now don't,” he protested humorously, “say ‘you. ” Unsmilingly she ignored both the compliment and the jest. “Will that be all?” “Well, no.” “What else?” “You might,” he smiled, “sit down and be-friendly.” “I've got to work.” “It seems,” he complained, “you're always working.” She shrugged her shoulders. “That's what I'm for.” And she left him. He frowned. [It might have been raining on his holiday. He was able, nevertheless, to make a substantial breakfast, Back in his room, which she had set in order whil he ate, he formally and finally diemisged Kazia from his mind and began his weekly letter to Unity, | “Do you look down on her?” Piotr “Of course not! And you needn't fault, is it? 1 don’t like,” Mark said slowly, “to see her with that Whiting. I wish--I wish she liked me a little better.” He did not see the startled ques. tioning look Piotr gave him. “Kazia,” asserted the boy, changes. I'm going home.” They strolled homeward, each mood- fly silent, Despite the comfcrtable quarters and nourishing food, now his strength lagged painfully; his scorched face be- came haggard. And each morning he dragged himself wearily homeward, blind to the day's beauty, But he did not forget Kazia Always a leech-like Plotr awaited his return, with problems to be solved and paragraphs to be construed. Nor did he walt in vain. Every morning Mark patiently sacrificed an bour of the needed sleep on the altar of the boy's rare stupidity. He did not look to Plotr's gratitude for his reward. The direct charge into the mouth of the enemy's cannon is spectacular and heroic, but the great strategists have relied upon the movement in flank On Friday Mark came within sight of the coveted positien. “There's three problems and a whole page of indirect discourse,” the scholar “never “Yes,” she sald very gravely “Kazia,” he pleaded whimsically, you even laugh for others—some- times Don’t you think you might smile for me this once, anyhow?” A smile guivered on her lips and But for a breath she lin CHAPTER VIL Soldier and Maid. He zat a little apart from her, that he might see her the better. It had been a delicious game, spinning non- sense to lure her forth from the grave reticent mood upon her that Sabbath afternoon and then letting her lapse into gravity and silence once more. He had found a surprising skill for it; he could play upon her and elleit just the note he desired. It bad been go, ever since she had so unexpectedly laid down her hostility. But he was not quite sure which of the two Kazias he liked the better—her of the clear ringing laugh with its hint of daring; or the subdued pensive maid whose eyes wistfully sought the horizon. The softer mood was upon her then, She sat, chin cupped in both hands, gazing out over the undulating acres of closecropped greensward, “You like it?” he queried. She nodded. “Huh!” he boasted “You ought to gee the hills up in Bethel They don't look like they'd just been to the bar- ber's. And you can always smell flow- ers somewhere.” He sniffed reminis- cently. “And the woods! You'd like them. The trees are real trees, big fellows that have been there more’n a hundred years, You can get lost there.” “You could leave that! Why? “To make money,” he responded crassly. “I wouldn't leave it for money." (TO BR CONTINURD,
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