Dangerous Days

Graham was waiting in Clayton's dressing-room when he went up-stairs.

Through the closed door they could hear Natalie's sleepy and rather

fretful orders to her maid. Graham rose when he entered, and threw away

his cigaret.

"I guess it has come, father."

"It looks like it."

A great wave of tenderness for the boy flooded over him. That tall,

straight body, cast in his own mold, but young, only ready to live, that

was to be cast into the crucible of war, to come out--God alone knew

how. And not his boy only, but millions of other boys. Yet--better to

break the body than ruin the soul.

"How is mother taking it?"

Natalie's voice came through the door. She was insisting that the house

be kept quiet the next morning. She wanted to sleep late. Clayton caught

the boy's eyes on him, and a half smile on his face.

"Does she know?"

"Yes."

"She isn't taking it very hard, is she?" Then his voice changed. "I

wish you'd talk to her, father. She's--well, she's got me! You see, I

promised her not to go in without her consent."

"When did you do that?"

"The night we broke with Germany in February. I was a fool, but she was

crying, and I didn't know what else to do. And"--there was a ring of

desperation in his voice--"she's holding me to it. I've been to her over

and over again."

"And you want to go?"

"Want to go! I've got to go."

He broke out then into a wild appeal. He wanted to get away. He was

making a mess of all sorts of things. He wasn't any good. He would try

to make good in the army. Maybe it was only the adventure he wanted--he

didn't know. He hadn't gone into that. He hated the Germans. He wanted

one chance at them, anyhow. They were beasts.

Clayton, listening, was amazed at the depth of feeling and anger in his

voice.

"I'll talk to your mother," he agreed, when the boy's passion had spent

itself. "I think she will release you." But he was less certain than he

pretended to be. He remembered Natalie's drooping eyelids that night

at dinner. She might absolve him from the promise, but there were other

ways of holding him back than promises.

"Perhaps we would better go into the situation thoroughly," he

suggested. "I have rather understood, lately, that you--what about

Marion Hayden, Graham?"