had just had from
Harkness,--a direct continuation of it. This frightful war! Was it going
to attack even that pathetic little old woman at Puncher's Farm with her
fumbling hands and her frail existence centred solely in her son? He
said, "I'm awfully sorry, Perch. Frightfully sorry for your mother and
for you. You know best what you ought to do. I won't say anything either
way. I think a man's only judge in this ghastly business is himself. Of
course, I'll help you. I'll help you all I can. It's a funny coincidence
but I believe I do know just the very girl that would be what you
want--"

Young Perch grasped his hand in delighted relief. "Oh, Sabre, if you do!
I felt you would help. You've always been a chap to turn to!"

"I've turned to you, Perch, you and your mother, a good deal more than
you might imagine. I'm glad to help if I can. The chance I'm thinking
about I was hearing of only a few days ago. The works' foreman in my
office, an old chap called Bright. He's got a daughter about eighteen or
thereabouts, and I was hearing he wanted to get her into some kind of
post like yours. I've spoken to her once or twice when she's been about
the place for her father and I took a tremendous fancy to her. She's as
pretty as a picture. Effie, she's called. I believe your mother would
take to her no end. And she'd just love your mother."

Young Perch said rather thickly, "Any one would who takes her the right
way."

Sabre touched him encouragingly on the shoulder. "This girl Effie will
if only we can get her. She's that sort, I know. I'll see about it at
once. Buck up, old man."

"Thanks most frightfully, Sabre. Thanks most awfully."

IX

It was from Twyning that Sabre had heard that a post of some sort was
being considered for Effie Bright. Her father, as he had told young
Perch, was works' foreman at Fortune, East and Sabre's. "Mr. Bright." A
massive old man with a massive, rather striking face hewn beneath a bald
dome and thickly grown all about and down the throat with stiff white
hair. He had been in the firm as long as Mr. Fortune himself and
appeared to Sabre, who had little to do with him, to take orders from
nobody. He was intensely religious and he had the deep-set and
extraordinarily penetrating eyes that frequently denote the religious
zealot. He was not liked by the hands. They called him Moses, disliked
his intense religiosity and feared the cold and heavy manner that he
had. He trod heavily about th