The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1912-08-30


assistant ''If l am too busy to wor-
~ at such times, Floyd; you are not.
Don't you ever think of what is likely
to happen when we are on the verge
Of a smash?"
Floyd paused, turning his large clear
eyes on the Questioner.
There's just one thing I'm asking"
he gravely returned. THAT is, that
when 1t comes. it will be a good
smash. No one minds just dying
we're sure to do 1t some day, anyhow
but to be mussed up and patched to-
gether again, no! Now" his irrepres-
sible smile glanced out again. that's
why feel so safe with you; there is
deadly finality about your driving
methods"
"That Is about enough Stanton sig
nified. "Ill see you on the train,
then"
They did meet on the train, and
passed long hours of travel in work
and discussion. The other passengers
came to take decided, II furtive in
terest in the two who sat opposite
each other in absorbed conversation
or argument, making drawings on en-
velopes and timetables to illustrate
their points and even leaving rows of
figures upon the menu cards in the
dining-car.
Incidentally, both men displayed a
thorough training In mechanical de-
sign and construction, Stanton's far
the more finished and scientific.
II did not know" Floyd marveled,
at last.
Stanton forestalled the question by
indifferently explaining.
II am mechanical engineer;
graduated from college at twenty-one;
that was five years ago. You have
dropped your pencil. What do you say
to staying over half day at Buffalo
and visiting your factory?"
Fine approved Floyd. a trife
slowly. "a half day, not more. We
have got to make ready for that Cup
race"
Three weeks off. You're getting as
old-womanish as Green"
TOO bad. Still have to be at the
Mercury plant when you don't. Half
day ought to be enough"
Stanton surveyed him, irritated. yet
without tangible cause for irritation.
There were times when he could have
imagined that Floyd evaded too close
companionship with him, subtly held
him at arms length.
They stayed the half day at Buffalo.
and went out to the huge, silent group
of buildings that had been the Comet
factory.
1t gave Stanton a strange sensation
to watch Floyd's assured familiarity
with this place and atmosphere; to
see him so naturally draw from his
pocket the bunch Of keys to admit
them and unhesitatingly fit each to it's
corresponding door or gate. Yet, this
was where he belonged-only there
should have been busy life instead Of
this dead emptiness. Their voices ech-
ed loud through the desolation, where
the massive, motionless machinery
stood towering above the visitor and
the slight young master of the domain,
the metal-spotted, roughened factory
floors reverberated under their foot
steps.
AS they made the tour from room to
room and building to building, Floyd
grew slowly whittier, his explanations
more brief. When they finally arrived
at glass-set door marked office, he
stopped short and laid his hand upon
the wall as II to steady himself
Go away, for moment" he re-
quest, his voice catching. "Tll come
after you. I haven't been here since
my father"
Stanton swung on his heel and went
out; out to look at the mile track,
where Edgar Floyd used to practice
racing with little Jes tied in the car
beside him, and where later the older
Jes played mechanician to his fathers
driving. And standing there under
the dull October sky, Stanton thought
OF many things.
When Floyd came after him, half an
hour later, Stanton turned from his
position against the track railing.
Floyd, what do you figure is going
to become of your sister," he abrupt
ly demanded.
Floyd stopped. gazing at the other
with parted lips and startled gray
eyes. A strong wind was blowing off
Lake Erie, tossing his bronze hair
and wrapping his long coat about him.
MY sister," he repeated. "WhyT
she Is woman, she must have
some life of her own. You can't keep
her like nun until she finds herself
| grown old without a chance at living"
Floyd continued to gaze at him, say
ing nothing; that halfhour in the Of
fee had left him almost wan in the
gray afternoon light.
You know me, Jes Floyd, II any
one does. You know my vile temper,
my rough tongue, and that I am a
cross-grained brute at best. But I
think there may be enough Of the In
herent gentleman left in me to make
me decent to a woman. II, in time,
things fell out 80 that I'd asked you for
your sister, would you be willing?
Speak frankly, II you do not think me
At to be trusted with her, say so-it
will not break our friendship"