The Washington times., 1931-12-07
THE ROAD BACK -
A Story Of the Aftermath
Or the World War


dom anything in reality.
They're just the hangerson,
who will be happy if they can
pick up a little commission by
the way The real profiteer
captains deal only with one
or at most two middlemen,
whom they know at first hand.
That fat chap over there, for
instance, bought two truckloads
of eggs in Poland yesterday.
At the moment, they're ,osten-
sibly on their way to Holland,
so I'm told; they'll be labeled
afreSh en- route, and then come
back again to be sold as Dutch
new-laid eggs at three times the
price. These fellows ahead
there are cocaine dealers; they
make immense profit, of course.
That's Diedrichs sitting over
there on the left; he deals only
in bacon. Also very good"
Rotten Butter
"And it's for these swine we
have to go around with belly
ache" growls Willy.
You'd have to do that, any,
way" replies Karl. why, only
last week there were 10 kegs Of
butter sold off by the State,
because they'd been let go rot
ten through long standing.
And it's the same thing with
corn. Bartscher has just
bought a couple Of truckloads
for a few pence, because it
had been allowed to get soaked
with rain in some tumbledown
State store-house and was all
mildewed."
who did you say?" asks AL
bert.
"Bartscher. Julius Bart
cher"
"Is he here often?"
"Oh, yes, I think So" says
Karl. Want to make a deal
with hlm?"
Albert shakes his head.
"Has he got much money!"
Like hay" replies Karl, with
a certain tone of respect.
"I say! Just look! There
comes Arthur" cries Willy,
laughing.
The canary yellow mackin-
tosh enters by the back door.
A couple of people stand up
and make toward him. He
brushes them aside, salutes this
one and that one patronizingly,
and walks on down the tables
like a general. I notice with
surprise what a hard, unpleas-
ant look his face has taken on.
a look that is there even when
he smiles.
He salutes us rather loftily.
est down, Arthur" smirks
Willy. Lederhose hesitates, but
he cannot resist the opportunity
of showing us, in his own do
main here, what a big noise he
has become.
On the Prod
"Just for a moment, then"
says he, taking Albert'S chair;
Albert is now ranging through
the room as if in search of
somebody. I am about to go
after him but refrain. Ledder-
hose calls for schnapps and is
already chaffering about 5000
pairs Of army boots and 20
truckloads of old stores with a
fellow whose fingers are fairly
flashing with diamonds. With
an occasional glance, Arthur
treasures himself every now
and then that we are also
listening.
But Albert is going along the
cubicles. Someone has said
something to him that he can
not believe, but which, for all
that, has stuck in his brain all
the day like thorn. When he
peers through a chink into the
last cubicle but one, it is as if
an immense dagger we're sud.
denly descending upon him.
He reels a moment; then he
rips the curtain aside.
On the table are champagne
glasses and beside them a bou-
quet of roses. The tablecloth
IS awry and hanging half on
the floor. Beyond the table a
fa1r-haired person is curled on
a settle. Her clothing is in
disaray, her hair disheveled,
The girls back is toward AL
bert and she huns a tune as
she combs her hair before a lit
tie mirror.
Luccie," says Albert hoarsely.
She swings around and stares
at him as if he were a ghost.
Not Her Fault
"Albert-it wasn't my fault"
she Stammers; "he, it was he"
Ihen all at once she gables
quickly: "He made me drunk
Albert, and he kept on giving
me more. Albert, I swear"
Albert does not answer.
What's the meaning of
this?" demands someone be.
hind him.
Bartscher stands there, sway.
ing slightly to and fro. He
blows the smoke of his cigar
into Albert's face.
"Plmping, eh? Be off with
you! Clear out!"
For a moment Albert stands
there dumbly before him. Then
suddenly, with awful vividness,
the protruding belly, the brown
check suit. the gold wotoh