A RESULT OF A FIRE
At the corner Jack met Deb, whose anxiety had caused her to follow him close to the Gray mansion.
"My! how long you've been!" she exclaimed, and then with a keen glance into his face: "Did he---- Did he----"
"He said he couldn't do a thing, that it was all in the agent's hands," burst out Jack, "He is meaner than mean. He will let that man put us out even when he owes us more than the amount of the rent. Well, it may be law, but it isn't justice and he shall not do it!"
And the young machinist shut his teeth in grim determination.
"If you can't get the money from the bank, I suppose you can't go into business for yourself," said Deb, when they reached home.
"That's true enough. Before the shut-down I might have borrowed money, but now I guess all our friends need every cent they have."
"Can't we raise some?" Deb's eyes wandered around the apartment. Jack gave a dry little laugh.
"Not on this stuff," he replied. "But we're not reduced to that yet." He walked over to where the model he was working on stood. "Wish this was finished. I believe I can make a neat sum out of this invention."
"How long will it take to complete it?"