Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1944-06-30

| selected along with him. Mr.. Win
kle wished that the boy wouldn't be
quite so respectful.
More people came. They chat
tered, and gazed curiously at Mrs.
Wrinkle, as if they couldn't believe
what their eyes saw nor what their
ears heard. Some of them were
earnest about Mr.. Wrinkles predica-
ment, some wondered, and others
were amused. Mr. Wrinkle liked the
last least of all. He didn't see why
people should laugh at him.
Mr.. Wescott, their next-door neigh
Dor, rather pompous individual,
cornered Mr.. Wrinkle and stated, IF
you're the kind of soldier we're 60
ing to have, God help u.s." He stared
at Mr.. Wrinkle as if to ask him how
he ever got himself into this.
Mr.. Wrinkle didn't think this was
very patriotic.
| Mr.. Wescott, who was prone to tell
anybody all about how anything was
conducted, and who could well afford
to inform Mr.. Wrinkle about his fu-
ture because he was over forty-five
and not subject to military duty,
went on to say, "Of course, you
know they won't use you as a COM
Blatant"
"You don't think so?" Mr.. Wrinkle
asked hopefully.
"Think it out for yourself, man,"
Mr.. Wescott lectured. They'll have
enough young fellows to do the actu-
al fighting. They want men in their
proper places, according to their
abilities. That's why they're calling
you in the first place, so you can
release a fighting man to fight"
| Mr.. Wrinkle was encouraged.
"They won't waste you as kill
err" Mr.. Wescott assured him.
Mr. Wrinkle didn't know whether
to feel flattered or insulted.
His neighbor looked at him criti-
cally, as if gauging him for the first
time. "You wouldn't be any good,
anyway. They'll use you in some
kind of mechanical work.
"Well," said Mr.. Wrinkle, 81 could
handle that" His courage took hold
of him at this talk. "But, under
stand me, if thought was capable
of using a gun, I'd do it anywhere
they say"
mo, sir" Mr.. Wescott went on,
you'll never see active service. l
can tell you that. You don't have
to worry about that for minute"
Mr.. Wrinkle ceased to worry, but
only for the allowed minute, for Mr..
| Wescott then looked thoughtful and
amended, "Of course, men of your
age are being used for combat in all
the other armies, and if things get
to that stage with us, suppose
you've got to consider that you
might have to do little shooting
or bayonet work"
When it was time for their visitors
to leave, they shook Mr. Wrinkles
hand as if bidding him goodby be-
fore he went into action. Mrs. Pet
tigrew's tears had dried, but her
perturbation remained. She plead
ed of Mr.. Wrinkle, you'll look after
Jack, won't your"
Mr.. Wrinkle, despite all his timidity
and Intellectual outer character,
could appreciate the humor in stu
alton. Il think" he said, Jack
ought to look after me-"
He and Jack glanced at each 9TH
er, and both smiled. The condemned
men had at least that mutual I'M
derstandng.
1t was nearly eleven before the
last of the guests left. Penelope
came out from the corner where she
had sulkcd all evening at the inva-
sion of her own peaceful life. Mr..
| Wrinkle, out of habit, took her TO
the back yard.
When he came in again he started
for the radio, to turn it on for the
nightly war news broadcast he usu-
ally favored. Then he stopped and
| didn't go near it, but turned to-
ward the stairs.
AREN'T you going to listen to the
war news?" Mrs. Wrinkle asked.
81 don't think l will tonight"
But why" Mrs. Wrinkle began
to speak as if she were the same
person as of before this morning.
But she caught herself and then
said merely, oh"
Mr.. Wrinkle felt like pinching him
self to be sure he was awake and
that this was Amy showing such
tact and consideration. He smiled
little, but not SO she could see
him, and he decided that it was
very nice indeed to have her this
way.
They went upstairs and there,
while they prepared themselves for
the night, Mrs. Wrinkle commented
in small voice that seemed to in
dictate she had other things to say
but couldn't say them, 1T was
nice party, wasn't it?"
Except" said Mr.. Wrinkle, II
don't see exactly why it was held"
Mr.. Wrinkle found his Imagination
running away with itself until his
mind was possessed of a nightmare.
He saw himself packed into
troop transport. He had seen pic
lures of how it was done. The
hunks, one on top of another in many
tiers, with only narrow aisle be-