ormed into articles of beauty
and worth suitable for man's use. Hence, when he saw lying here and
there deformed and disfigured fragments of the exquisitely grained white
spruce, which during the war, he had with such care selected for his
aeroplane parts, his very heart rose in indignant wrath. And filled with
this wrath he made his way to the office and straightway summoned Wickes
and his son Jack to conference.

"Tony will never make a worker in wood. He cares nothing for it," he
said bitterly.

"Nor in anything else, Dad," said Jack, with a little laugh.

"You laugh, but it is no laughing matter," said his father
reproachfully.

"I am sorry, Father, but you know I always thought it was a mistake to
put Tony in charge of anything. Why, he might have had his commission
if he were not such an irresponsible, downwright lazy beggar. What he
needs, as my Colonel used to profanely say, is 'a good old-fashioned
Sergeant-Major to knock hell out of him'. And, believe me, Tony was a
rattling fine soldier if his officer would regularly, systematically and
effectively expel his own special devil from his system. He needs that
still."

"What can we do with him? I simply can't and won't dismiss him, as that
infernally efficient and coolheaded Scot demands. You heard about the
Grievance Committee?"

"Oh, the town has the story with embellishments. Rupert Stillwell took
care to give me a picturesque account. But I would not hesitate, Dad.
Kick Tony a good swift kick once a week or so, or, if that is beneath
your dignity, fire him."

"But, Jack, lad, we can't do that," said his father, greatly distressed,
"after what--"

"Why not? He carried me out of that hell all right, and while I live I
shall remember that. But he is a selfish beggar. He hasn't the instinct
for team play. He hasn't the idea of responsibility for the team. He
gets so that he can not make himself do what he just doesn't feel like
doing. He doesn't care a tinker's curse for the other fellows in the
game with him."

"The man that doesn't care for other fellows will never make a foreman,"
said Mr. Maitland decisively. "But can't something be done with him?"

"There's only one way to handle Tony," said Jack. "I learned that
long ago in school. He was a prince of half-backs, you know, but I had
regularly to kick him about before every big match. Oh, Tony is a fine
sort but he nearly broke my heart till I nearly broke his back."

"That does not help much,