The Waterbury Democrat., 1940-10-02
r..- 1To,-, I,oo,.d vrero lauoh

Sue Mary heard Vera laugh.
 She stood there listening to her own breathing in the silence. It seemed ages before Vera left the room and went to a phone in the outer office. Sue Mary felt she must be discovered as she edged her way into the outer hall to stand behind a door and strain to hear every word.
 well, he's handled 1 t more cleverly than I thought he would" Vera said softly into the phone. "But there are loopholes big enough for us to blow the story wide open. I mean his gambling debts and the fact that he's using this guy Blair as a cover-up on the real estate deal.
 q know that there are papers here we should have. No, l haven't got them. Tomorrow would be the time to break the news.
 "Yes, I know-but Nick - listen. This isn't the time to try and find them. He'll have the signed pa pers, deeds, figures all that stuff here tomorrow. We can get 1t then. Or get a camera and take copies. That wouldn' be stealing.
 "No-I'm not afraid. Well, lis ten, Nick. Tomorrow is the time. No, can't talk any longer. I'll explain in detail when l see you. want to get out of here. Bye darling"
 Time passed. Long after Vera's heels had beat tattoo out of the office and she had heard the eleva- tor door clang shut, Sue Mary went back to her work. Somehow she fin- ished it, somehow she had courage enough to look in on Ross Clark, Jr., sleeping on his fathers old black, leather-covered couch. And then she left.
 The air was cool and teh streets silent and deserted. A paper truck went by and someone threw bundle of morning editions to sleepy-eyed boy on the corner. Sue Mary bought one and read 1t on the late bus going to the apart ment.
 She skinned the unpleasant bulletins from Europe and then looked at a picture on the front page. More trouble at Smithson. The picket line continued to pa rade although strike notice hadn't been posted by the union.
 There would be a showdown, though, within the next two days, the story read. The thing was getting out of hand, for late that afternoon when the day shift had quit, fights had started - again no one knew how-and three factory workers had been injured.
 In teh hospital was Joe Stefan ski, "A, employed in the research department.
 Stefanski, according to fellow workers and plant officials, had had no part in the recent difh- culties, but had been struck by a flying missile. It was not known if he suffered skull fracture but x-rays had been taken. Sue Mary went by her stop and walked back the two blocks in 8 state of terror. She stopped under another street light to reread the story. The words "Joe Stefanski, "A, stared at her from the white paper Her eyes finally focused on the picture. And from the blurred faces in the group standing be- hind the picket line she recog- nized one: Nick!
 ] There could be no mistaking his hair, with that one unruly lock falling across the forehead; the line of his lips as he talked to another man, and the frozen ges- ture there on the page, that he always used when involved in ex- cited conversation.
 The night was endless. She had wanted to go to Joe, but a frantic call she made to the hos pital made 1t pointless. MT Stefanski was unconscious. He was doing as well as could be ex- pected. He could see no one; would recognize no one in his present condition.
 So she went to the apartment climbing the steps wearily and trying to get to bed without awakening Natalie.
 So much had happened in the past few hours that Sue Mary's mind refused to function normal | ly.
 Vera and Nick were slowly tightening the net around weak stupid Ross Clark, Jr., so that their political strategy would work to the benefit of the party Nick and the TYP gang were stir ring up trouble at the Smithson factory so that production at Gull Plane would be halted = all in the name of their type of American ism.
 All to keep the United States safe from war mongers, capital ists, munition makers. That was their cry.
 And Joe in the hospital. Joe who was typical of young Amer ica. She thought of him working