The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-12-14
THE SHOP GIRL, By C.. w. and A. M. Williamson

I lost sight of her. Yesterday found her at the Hands. I wanted to talk to her about love, but she made me listen to her instead. She said sharp things about the store that cut like knives. Don't think I'm accusing you if the Hands is a sweatshop. You trust Croft, and he's abused his trust. That must be it. For Gods sake, give me a chance to help you put things straight" "
 For moment-a long moment-Peter ST. did not speak.
 Don't talk to me any more about all this just now, my son." he suddenly implored shock-several shocks. I'm not fit for well. I'm feeling mad"
 'I'm sorry, father,'' the young man apolo- gized. q meant to stir you up, but didn't mean to give you shock: Shall l ring! Is there anything you want?'
 "Only to be alone," replied the other. 'sIll lie down here on the sofa. By and by, IL don't feel better, I'll go to my room maybe and make it dark and sleep thls headache off You and can discuss all these things later. That'll be best for us both"
 together Old Peter had ordered cup of hot milk and had sent word that, his lndl- gestion being rather worse than usual, he intended to spend the afternoon lying down. This had often happened before, and mother, though distressed, was not alarmed.
 For a while Petro's whole soul was so steeped in plans for the future that he for got the faint uneasness which had stirred within him at fathers message about the milk Something had seemed to whisper: "It's only an excuse" And his asking not to be disturbed all the afternoon, "can it mean that he's got a special reason for wanting to be let alone hour after hour?"
 In little while the whisper came again. It came, adding to its first suggestion Don't you know that while you and mother were lingering over your lunch father stole away and went off to make mischief be- tween you and the girl"
 Petro sprang up. He was ashamed 10 harbor such thought of tSeachery, but 1t was there. He could easily learn whether father had gone to New York by inquiring if one of the motors had been taken out. But it was hardly worth while to ask ques- tions Peter knew that his father had gone, and why.
 Late in the afternoon Win received per emptory summons to MT. Croft's office. There was an outer office guarding the inner shrine, and here girl typist and a waxy-faced young man were getting ready to go home. The waxy-faced youth. a shrine door, opened i., spoke, returned and announced that Miss Child was to go in: Then, as the girl stepped in, the door closed behind her and she stood in an expenslvely hideous room, looking at little, drleo-up dark man who sat in MT. Croft's chair at MT. .Croft's desk. But he was not MT. Croft He was Peter Rolls ST.
 "You Miss Child?" he shortly inquired, holding her with steady stare which rom younger man would have been offensive.
 'I am, sir" she said in the low, sweet voice that Peter Jr. loved. Even Peter ST. was impressed with it in spite of himself, impressed with the whole personality of the young woman. -s. s'. :.
 "Know who I am?" he continued his catechism. '-:
 F'You are MT. Rolls"
 "What makes you so sure of that, eh!
 "You were pointed out to me one evening last winter when you were inspecting the shop with MT. Croft" ''Nohody had any business pointing me out Who did?"
 'I'm afraid I've forgotten" said the girl, more calmly than she felt
 "I guess you haven't forgotten who pointed me out" he persisted. Have you! 1t might pay to remember"
 "I do not remember, sir" She threw up her head in the characteristic way which the other Peter knew.
 / ''Sure nothing could make you remem- ber?"
 ''Im sure nothing could"
 "Very well, then we must let that go for the present. Now to another subject You're English, ain't you?"
 "Yes"