y people, both male and
female, and through this cordon Thompson seldom broke for confidential
talk with her. When he did Sophie baffled him with her calm detachment,
a profound and ever-increasing reserve--as if she had ceased to be a
woman and become a mere, coldly beautiful mechanism for seeing about
shipments of bandage stuff, for collecting funds, and devising practical
methods of raising more funds and creating more supplies.

Thompson said as much to her one day. She looked at him unmoved,
unsmiling. And something that lurked in her clear gray eyes made him
uncomfortable, sent him away wondering. It was as if somehow she
disapproved. A shadowy impression at best. He wondered if Tommy fared
any better, and he was constrained to think Tommy did because Tommy went
in for patriotic work a good deal, activities that threw him in pretty
close contact with Sophie.

"I can spare the time," he confided to Thompson one day. "And it's good
business. I meet some pretty influential people. Why don't you spread
yourself a little more, Wes? They'll be saying you're a slacker if you
don't make a noise."

"I don't fight the Germans with my mouth," Thompson responded shortly.
And Tommy laughed.

"That's a popular weapon these days," he returned lightly. "It does no
harm to go armed with it."

Thompson refrained from further speech. That very morning in the lobby
of the Granada Thompson had heard one man sneer at another for a
slacker--and get knocked down for his pains. He did not want to inflict
that indignity on Tommy, and he felt that he would if Tommy made any
more cynical reflections.

Of course, that was a mere flaring-up of resentment at the fact that, to
save his soul, he could not get off the fence. He could not view the war
as a matter vital to himself; nor could he do like Tommy Ashe, play
patriotic tunes with one hand while the other reached slyly forth to
grasp power and privilege of whatever degree came within reach.

And in the meantime both men, and other men likewise, went about their
daily affairs. Vancouver grew and prospered, and the growth of Summit
sales left an increasing balance on the profit side of Thompson's
ledger. Moreover the rapid and steady growth of his business kept his
mind on the business. It worked out--his business preoccupation--much in
the manner of the old story of fleas and dogs, to wit: a certain number
of fleas is good for a dog. They keep him from brooding over the fact
that he