Dangerous Days

With his many new problems following the declaration of war, Clayton

Spencer found a certain peace. It was good to work hard. It was good to

fill every working hour, and to drop into sleep at night too weary for

consecutive thought.

Yet had he been frank with himself he would have acknowledged that

Audrey was never really out of his mind. Back of his every decision lay

his desire for her approval. He did not make them with her consciously

in his mind, but he wanted her to know and understand, In his

determination, for instance, to offer his shells to the government at a

nominal profit, there was no desire to win her approbation.

It was rather that he felt her behind him in the decision. He shrank

from telling Natalie. Indeed, until he had returned from Washington

he did not broach the subject. And then he was tired and rather

discouraged, and as a result almost brutally abrupt.

Coming on top of a hard fight with the new directorate, a fight which he

had finally won, Washington was disheartening. Planning enormously for

the future it seemed to have no vision for the things of the present. He

was met vaguely, put off, questioned. He waited hours, as patiently as

he could, to find that no man seemed to have power to act, or to know

what powers he had.

He found something else, too--a suspicion of him, of his motives. Who

offered something for nothing must be actuated by some deep and hidden

motive. He found his plain proposition probed and searched for some

ulterior purpose behind it.

"It's the old distrust, Mr. Spencer," said Hutchinson, who had gone with

him to furnish figures and various data. "The Democrats are opposed to

capital. They're afraid of it. And the army thinks all civilians are on

the make--which is pretty nearly true."

He saw the Secretary of War, finally, and came away feeling better.

He had found there an understanding that a man may--even should--make

sacrifices for his country during war. But, although he carried away

with him the conviction that his offer would ultimately be accepted,

there was nothing actually accomplished. He sent Hutchinson back, and

waited for a day or two, convinced that his very sincerity must bring a

concrete result, and soon.

Then, lunching alone one day in the Shoreham, he saw Audrey Valentine at

another table. He had not seen her for weeks, and he had an odd moment

of breathlessness when his eyes fell on her. She was pale and thin,

and her eyes looked very tired. His first impulse was to go to her. The

second, on which he acted, was to watch her for a little, to fill his

eyes for the long months of emptiness ahead.