"What would you suggest?" inquired the rector, rather crestfallen.

"I'd suggest training men as officers. And then--a draft."

"Never come to it in the world." Hutchinson spoke up. "I've heard men in

the mill talking. They'll go, some of them, but they won't be driven. It

would be civil war."

Clayton glanced at Graham as he replied. The boy was leaning forward,

listening.

"There's this to be said for the draft," he said. "Under the volunteer

system the best of our boys will go first. That's what happened in

England. And they were wiped out. It's every man's war now. There is no

reason why the few should be sacrificed for the many."

"And there's this, too," Graham broke in. He was flushed and nervous.

"A fellow would have to go. He wouldn't be having to think whether his

going would hurt anybody or not. He wouldn't have to decide. He'd--just

go."

There was a little hush in the room. Then Nolan spoke.

"Right-o!" he said. "The only trouble about it is that it's likely to

leave out some of us old chaps, who'd like to have a fist in it."

Hutchinson remained after the others had gone. He wanted to discuss the

change in status of the plant.

"We'll be taken over by the government, probably," Clayton told him.

"They have all the figures, capacity and so on. The Ordnance Department

has that in hand."

Hutchinson nodded. He had himself made the report.

"We'll have to look out more than ever, I suppose," he said, as he rose

to go. "The government is guarding all bridges and railways already. Met

a lot of National Guard boys on the way."

Graham left when he did, offering to take him to his home, and Clayton

sat for some time alone, smoking and thinking. So the thing had come at

last. A year from now, and where would they all be? The men who had been

there to-night, himself, Graham? Would they all be even living? Would

Graham--?

He looked back over the years. Graham a baby, splashing water in his

bath and shrieking aloud with joy; Graham in his first little-boy

clothes, riding a velocipede in the park and bringing in bruises of an

amazing size and blackness; Graham going away to school, and manfully

fixing his mind on his first long trousers, so he would not cry;

Graham at college, coming in with the winning crew, and stumbling, half

collapsed, into the arms of a waiting, cheering crowd. And the Graham

who had followed his mother up the stairs that night, to come down

baffled, thwarted, miserable.




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