The L'Anse sentinel., 1919-03-21

was chafing, restive, after few
weeks of Tucson. For what was he
getting here? Adding what scrap of
experience to the rounding Of his pro-
fessiOn?
Retrospectively engineering could
hardly be said to be the work of his
choice. Rather had it appeared to
choose him. From boyhood engineers
had always been. to him, the soldiers
Of modern civilization. To conquer
and subdue mountains, to shackle wild
rivers, to suspend trestles over dizzy
heights, to throw the tracks of an ad-
vancing civilization along newly
blazed trail, there would always be
thrill in 1t for him. It had changed
the best quarterback of his high school
into the primmest of students at col
lege. Only for a short time had he let
his vanity sidetrack him, when the
honor Of teaching what he had learned
stopped his own progress. A rut J.
He remembered the day when it had
burst on him, the realization of the
rut he was In. He could see his Law
renee schoolroom, could see yet the
face under the red-haired mop belong
ing to Jerry Matson-queer he rcmem-
bered the name after all those years
He could picture the look of cOnster-
| nation when he threw down his book
and announced his desertion.
| He had handed in his resignation
the next day. A month later and he
was shoveling coal on the steep grades
of Wyoming.
Marshall keeps his men with him u
The engineers glance travelled around
the fleckless Office. A stranger to Mar
shall would get wrong idea of the
man who worked in it Those precise
files, the desk, orderly and polished.
the cleaning linoleum-and then the
man who made the negro janitor's life
proud burden! His clothes always
crumpled-spots, too, unless his Clau-
dia had had chance at them! Black
string tie askew. all the outward Wis.,
of assured ancestry. Not even valet
would ever keep Tod Marshall up to
the standard of that Office. What did
he have servants for, he had demand
ed of Rickard, If 1t were not to jump
after him, picking up the loose ends
he dropped?
Curious thing, magnetism. That
mans step on the stair, and every
man-jack of them would jump to at
tention, from Ben, the colored janitor,-
who would not swap his post for 81
necure so long as Tod Mashall's one
lung kept him In Arizona, to Smythe,
the stoop-shouldered clerk, who had
followed Marshalps cough from San
Francisco. 1t was said in Arizona
he himself had met the statement In
Tucson-that any man who had ever
worked for Tod Marshall would rather
be warmed by the reflection of his
greatness than be given posts of per-
sonal distinction.
Was 1t Office routine Marshall in
tended HIM fort He admired without
stint Tod Marshall, but he preferred
to work by the side of the other kind,
the strong men, without physical ham
dicap, the men who take risks, the
men who live the life Of soldiers. That
was the life he wanted. He would
wait long enough to get Marshalls in
tention, and then. If it meant-this
he would break loose. He would go
back to the front where he belonged
back to the firing line.
AS the hands of the round clock In
The outer Office were pointing to ten
the door opened and Marshall entered.
His clothes, of indefinite blacklsh hue,
would have disgraced an eastern man.
His string tie had starboard list,
and his hat was ready for q rummage
sale. But few would have looked at
his clothes. The latent energy of the
dynamic spirit that would frequently
turn that quiet office into a mael-
strom cleaned in those Indian-black
eyes. Beneath the shabby cloth one
suspected the daily polished skin; un-
der the old slouch hat was the mouth
of purpose. the lips that no woman,
even his Claudia, had kissed without
the thrill of fear.
Marshall glanced back at the clock,
and then toward his visitor.
"On time ~ he observed.
Rickard, smiling, put. his book In
Ms pocket.