Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1918-12-10

I idly at one of the windows playing
with the apricot silk curtains. Now
this hurt my house-wifely feelings
| but ! realized that Neal was still
sore from the rebuff Virginia had
! given him and that he would be
frightfully hurt by even the slight
est correction.
Presently Neal followed me into
the kitchen.
Anything I can do, Babbs?" he
asked, with an entire lack of ami
nation that was no odder than his
question. Generally he plunged in
and helped without any, direction
from me.
Don't bother IL you're tired, dear.
I've nothing much to GET saved
few sandwiches for you, and the
rest of the dinners just chops and
carrots and baked potatoes"
I I'D like something to do. II
don't want to think, Babbs," per-
sisted Neal-then suddenly, Say
Babbs, have you heard from father
! lately?"
That's funny, Neal-I was gsing
to ask you about that. I've written
twice a week as usual ever since
, you came, but I've had only couple
of postals from Father Andrew. L
thought it was because he was writ
ing to you"
1--WE had exactly one letter from
father since L came" Neal replied,
in a voice that was almost husky.
zone letter? And you've been
here over three weeks-almost a
month. What does it mean, Neal?"
I cried in amazement, slamming the
dooF of the broiling oven on my
oI1 III
There was a flash of defiance in
his eyes as he responded:
Il told you when L came, didn't I
that I hadn't consulted father about
my job? l said Just got it and lit
out"
Yes, you did, and I sat right
down and wrote Father Andrew you
were with us and that everything
would be all right. 1t hurt me a
little that he didn't answer my let
ter with more than postal-but
1 thought he was busy, and l didn't
ask to see your letters, because
you'd naturally show them to me if
you wanted me to see them. After
all, no matter how l love him, Fa-
ther Andrew is your really, truly
dad-not mine" l said slowly =
feeling my way through the tangle
l began to sense.
II guess he's been wishing he was
yoW father-instead of mine," Neal
said bitterly.
1 went over and laid my hand on
his shoulder.
Meals there something you
want to tell Babbsie?"
'I'll keep my affairs TO myself"
replied Neal, shaking off my hand
and muttering with a boyish gruff-
ness | might have known masked
actual emotion. IL only get
matters. No one believes in me.
And maybe they're right not to. But
might be different if they did. You
think I'm as tickle as the deuce and
that Dalton woman thinks I'm not
to be trusted at ALL and Jim"
He stopped abruptly. His voice
had risen high and tense-it broke
on high note.
yes Neal?" asked Jim's voice.
He had hobbled across the living
room and stood in the doorway of
the kitchenette. His face was stern
and set His voice had ring of
authority.
You were saying that no one
trusted you. No, Neal, you needn't
look so indignant wasn't caves
dropping. When 1 heard you shout
that no one believed in you. 1 hur-
ried out here Gas fast as my-ankle
would permit. So you. think l don't
trust you?"
How can you trust me-knowing
what you do?" Neal tried to hold
his voice steady, but in spite of him,
a broken note crept into it. you've
stood by-and tried to help me. But
what must you think of me-you
with that smashed foot you got in
the fight II
Then he turned to me and flung
his young head high as he choked
out the confession it must have tor
tured him to make. And, strangely
enough-instead of wavering away
Meals eyes held mine as he NUT
tered, huskily:
I'm a Stacker, Babbsie. A draft
dodger. / ran away from home to
get out of being a soldier-to get
away from the draft"
(To be Continued.)