The Washington herald., 1915-08-29

/ dread, and his smart walrus bag
aboard a train that halted and snuff.
ed and backed. and bumped and halt
ed with maddening frequency. But il
landed him at last in little town
bearing the characteristics of all
American little towns. 1t was sur
prisingly full of six-cylinder cars, and
five and ten-cent stores, and banks
with Doric columns, and paved
streets.
After he had registered at the ho-
tel, and as he was cleaning up a bit,
he passed an amused eye over the
bare, ugly, musty little hotel bedroom.
But somehow, as he stood in the mid
die of the room, graceful, pleasing
figure of youth and confidence, the
smile faded. Towel in hand he sur
veyed the barrenness of it. He stared
at the impossible wall paper, at the
battered furniture, the worn carpet.
He shifted the stuffy smell of-what
was that smell, anyhow?-straw, and
mating. and dust, and the ghost-odor
of hundreds who had occupied the
room before him. 1t came over him
with something of shock that this
same sort of room had been his moth
er's only home in the ten years she
had spent on the road as a travelling
saleswoman for the T. A. Buck Fea-
therloom Petticoat Company. This
was what She had left in the morning.
To this she had come back at night
AS he stared ahead of him there rose
before him mental picture of her
the brightness of her, the sunniness,
the indomitable energy, and pluck, and
courage. With sudden burst of new
determination he wadded the towel
into moist ball, flung it at the wash
stand, seized hat, coat, and gloves,
and was off down the hall. So it was
with something of his mothers splen-
did courage in his heart, but with
nothing of her canny knowledge in
his head, Jock McChesney Jared forth
to do battle with the mereiless god
Business.
1t was ten-thirty of brilliant morn
ing just two days later that a buoy
ant young figure swung into an ele-
vator in the great Office building that
housed the Berg, Shriner Advertising
Company. Just one more grain of
buoyant swing and the young mans
walk might have been termed swag-
ger AS it was, his walrus bag just
saved him.
Stepping out of the lift he walked,
as from habit, to the little unlettered
door which admitted employees to the
big, bright, inner Office. But he did not
use it. Instead he turned suddenly and
walked down the hall to the double
door which led into the reception
room. He threw out his legs stifly
and came down rather fat-footed, the
way George Cohan does when he's
pleased with himself in the second
act.
Hello, Mack" he called out jovial-
ly.
Mack, the usher, so called from his
Machiavellian qualities, turned to sur
vey the radiant young figure before
him. .....
Good morning. Mr.. MeChesney,"
he made answer smoothly. Mack
never forgot himself. His keen eye
saw the little halo of self-satisfaction
that hovered above Jock McQhesney's
head. "A successful trip. l see"
Jock McChesney laughed little,
pleased, conscious laugh. well, raw
thah" he drawled. and opened the
door leading into the main Office. He
had been loath to lose one erumb OF
the SAVIOR of it.
Still smiling, he walked to his own
desk, with nod here and there,
dropped his bag, took off coat and
hat, selected a cigarette. tapped it
smartly, lighted it, and was off down
the big room to the little eubby-hole
at the other end. But Sam Hupp's
plump. keen, good-humored face did
not greet him. as he entered The lit
tie room was deserted. Frowning. Jock
sank into the empty desk chair. Hel
Graded his head in his hands. tilted
the chair. pursed his mouth over the
slender white cylinder and squinted |
his eyes up toward the lazy blue
spirals Of smoke-the very picture Of |
content and satisfaction. i
Hupp was in attending some coulter