The Dark Star

"You see how it is, don't you, dad?" he ended. "The Princess has been

a good and loyal friend to me. She has used her influence; I have met,

through her, the people I ought to know, and they have given me work

to do. I'm in her debt; I'm under real obligation to her. And I've got

to go, that's all."

Old Dick Neeland's clear eyes of a sportsman continued to study his

son's face.

"Yes, you've got to go," he said. He smoked for a few moments, then:

"What the devil does it mean, anyway? Have you any notion, Jim?"

"No, I haven't. There seems to be some military papers in this box

that is mentioned. Evidently they are of value to somebody. Evidently

other people have got wind of that fact and desire to obtain them for

themselves. It almost seems as though something is brewing over

there--trouble of some sort between Germany and some other nation. But

I haven't heard of anything."

His father continued to smoke for a while, then: "There is something brewing over there, Jim."

"I hadn't heard," repeated the young man.

"I haven't either, directly. But in my business some unusual orders

have come through--from abroad. Both France and Germany have been

making inquiries through agents in regard to shipments of grain and

feed and lumber. I've heard of several very heavy rush orders."

"What on earth could cause war?"

"I can't see, Jim. Of course Austria's attitude toward Servia is very

sullen. But outside of that I can see no trouble threatening.

"And yet, the Gayfield woollen mill has just received an enormous

order for socks and underwear from the French Government. They're

running all night now. And another thing struck me: there has been a

man in this section buying horses for the British Government. Of

course it's done now and then, but, taking this incident with the

others which have come to my personal knowledge, it would seem as

though something were brewing over in Europe."

Jim's perplexed eyes rested on his father; he shook his youthful head

slightly: "I can't see why," he said. "But if it's to be France and Germany

again, why my sympathy is entirely for France."

"Naturally," nodded his father.

Their Irish ancestors had fought for Bonaparte, and for the Bourbons

before him. And, cursed with cousins, like all Irish, they were aware

of plenty of Neelands in France who spoke no English.

Jim rose, glanced at his watch: "Dad, I'll just be running over to Brookhollow to get that box. I

haven't such a lot of time, if I'm to catch the midnight train at

Orangeville."

"I should say you hadn't," said his father.

He was disappointed, but he smiled as he exchanged a handclasp with

his only son.