The Heart's Kingdom

And it was a busy month that stretched from August through September.

Nickols said it would be his last fling at the old town and he proposed

to leave his mark on its mossy sides. And he did.

In the first place money was pouring into little old Goodloets from

three huge sources. The little one-horse tannery down by the river

beyond the Settlement doubled, tripled and then quadrupled its capacity

and next to it the little old saddle and harness factory in which Mr.

Cockrell and old Mr. Sproul had been making saddles and harness since

the days of the Confederacy, did the same and sent out consignment after

consignment of saddles and bridles which were paid for in huge checks of

Russian origin which almost paralyzed the Goodloets Bank and Trust

Company and which worked pale Clive Harvey into the night until he

managed to get young Henry Thornton in to assist him. His salary was

raised three times until it was large enough to harbor Bessie and any

number of small editions of them both, only she preferred to drink and

dance and joy-ride with Hugh Payne, who could not have supported such a

flowering by his own effort to have saved his own life and soul.

And then to burden poor Clive still further, Hampton Dibrell and Mr.

Thornton hastily built huge pens over by the railroad and in these

assembled hundreds and thousands of mules to be shipped through to

France, which brought in return a steady stream of French francs to be

translated into American dollars. Still further, Billy and Mark and

Cliff, with Nickols' assistance, and the telegraph system, speculated in

War Brides down on Wall Street until their individual bank accounts

began to mount to giddy sums. Father and Mr. Sproul and more of the

other men did likewise and Buford Cunningham got some spectacular

returns from copper in Canada that Billy said would make Mrs. Buford

Cunningham try to buy the Country Club outright for a summer home. And

while there was prosperity in the Town the Settlement also had its

share. Wages rose higher and higher and many of the women went to work

at the machines in the saddle factory, leaving the care of the children

to the old dames, which resulted in an added pandemonium in the

Settlement streets.

"I don't know what is the matter. Goodloets is money mad," wailed Mother

Spurlock, as she sank with weariness into the rocker on my porch one hot

August afternoon. "The girls and the women are all at work and two

babies have died this week from pure lack of mother's care, I might say

mother's milk. Ed Jones' wife weaned her six-months'-old baby so she

could go in the factory, and left it on condensed milk with old Mrs.

Jones, who fed it incessantly and not at all cleanly. Now it is not

expected to live. And they dance at the Last Chance until one o'clock

almost every night. Is the world mad?"