’
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,