Captain Lote leaned forward. His gray eyes snapped.
“Want to fight, do you?” he queried.
“You bet I do!”
“All right, my boy, then go—and fight. I'd be ashamed of myself if I held you back a minute. Go and fight—and fight hard. I only wish to God I was young enough to go with you.”
CHAPTER XIII
And so, in this unexpected fashion, came prematurely the end of the four year trial agreement between Albert Speranza and Z. Snow and Co. Of course neither Captain Zelotes nor Albert admitted that it had ended. Each professed to regard the break as merely temporary.
“You'll be back at that desk in a little while, Al,” said the captain, “addin' up figgers and tormentin' Issy.” And Albert's reply was invariably, “Why, of course, Grandfather.”
He had dreaded his grandmother's reception of the news of his intended enlistment. Olive worshiped her daughter's boy and, although an ardent patriot, was by no means as fiercely belligerent as her husband. She prayed each night for the defeat of the Hun, whereas Captain Lote was for licking him first and praying afterwards. Albert feared a scene; he feared that she might be prostrated when she learned that he was to go to war. But she bore it wonderfully well, and as for the dreaded “scene,” there was none.
“Zelotes says he thinks it's the right thing for you to do, Albert,” she said, “so I suppose I ought to think so, too. But, oh, my dear, DO you really feel that you must? I—it don't seem as I could bear to . . . but there, I mustn't talk so. It ain't a mite harder for me than it is for thousands of women all over this world. . . . And perhaps the government folks won't take you, anyway. Rachel said she read in the Item about some young man over in Bayport who was rejected because he had fat feet. She meant flat feet, I suppose, poor thing. Oh, dear me, I'm laughin', and it seems wicked to laugh a time like this. And when I think of you goin', Albert, I—I . . . but there, I promised Zelotes I wouldn't. . . . And they MAY not take you. . . . But oh, of course they will, of course they will! . . . I'm goin' to make you a chicken pie for dinner to-day; I know how you like it. . . . If only they MIGHT reject you! . . . But there, I said I wouldn't and I won't.”