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Page 31 text:
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THE REDWOOD 23 he had dropped, and drew in his breath with a gulp when he noticed the feat- ures upon it. Why, pardon my asking, but who ' s that? Wetherby blurted out. Young Morgan smiled — That ' s my little sister, Margery. She ' s going to school down at Chevy Chase. And then came the call for volun- teers for the American Ambulance Unit. Both wired home for permission to go. Lee was almost heartbroken at having to see Jack leave — himself hav- ing to remain. When Jack returned at the advent of the United States into the war, he didn ' t speak much of what he had seen or done overseas. But he had a war-cross which they said he had received for saving a vital key-trench for France. When it ' s crew had been shot down he had held the charging Huns with a Lewis gun until reinforce- ments came. Also he had been slightly ' gassed ' once. He took the civilian ' s examination, obtained high recommendations both military and political, and was award- ed Captain ' s bars. Then he was dis- patched to the San Francisco Presidio where the First Officers Training Camp was slated to soon begin. His services as instructor were highly valued. Lee Morgan was at the Ferry to meet him. Although the thought that San Francisco was Margery ' s home had been ever with him during his trip across the continent, he forebore asking if she had yet returned home. Instead he submitted to Lee ' s handshakings and congratulations and thousand ques- tions about the trouble over there. He discovered later that Margery would not be home until early June. It was now latter May. In the two weeks that elapsed before the beginning of the Training Camp — in which incidently Lee had been ac- cepted as a candidate — Wetherby never had in his life a more tremendous time. San Fransico showed him all her re- nowned hospitality ; he was feted as if he were a Roman conquerer home for a triumph. And through it all he showed he was as fun-loving and un- pretentious as ever; he had not yet grown up. He and young Morgan were always together; Morgan ' s Speedster wit- nessed many rambles. They both drove it in turns; sometimes Wetherby drove it about alone. They thought nothing of that, of course, for Lee had done the same with Jack ' s racer one vacation down in New York. And wherever he and Morgan went he found people asking when Margery would be home. At the dance and tea and country-club he saw people looking forward to her homecoming. He had an impulse to bowl over some youths whom he saw unconsciously fix their ties at mention of her name. II It was June in poppy-broidered Cal- ifornia, early blue-skied romantic June. And everyone that morning in
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Page 30 text:
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The Muleteer W. Kevin Casey. ECAUSE Captain Jack Wetherby was hand- some, and brown, and tall ; because he had done brave things over there, social San Francisco adored him. All the shining young debutantes were mad to dance with him, all their mamas set crafty snares for him. Because he was brave and handsome sufficed the girls; the mamas were allured by the fact that his people were the Wetherbys of New York. But though he danced and dined with all the beauty of the old harbor town, he was still heart-whole and fan- cy free. At least so he assured him- self — if only it weren ' t for that name, Margery Morgan forever chiming in his ears — Margery Morgan. Although Wetherby ' s parents were able to spend the winter in New York and the summer on the Riviera ; al- though they kept a palatial home and a corps of keep and bought a new lim- ousine every other year, they had never made the mistake of spoiling him as a child. Sometimes he accompanied them on their travels ; other times he staj r ed with his grandparents up-state. There he fought and played with the lads of the town. And whenever the games were those of triumphantly pro- tecting, in the role of mail-clad knights, innocence and beauty, he fought — as in later life — with redoubled strength and vigor. His schooling was done in Exeter and Yale. During these golden days every one who met him characterized him as a ' good fellow ' . While at Yale he distinguished himself by painting with huge Y ' s the Harvard campus the night before the ' Big Game ' . Just as he had finished this feat, he was de- tected by a mob of students. After be- ing pursued by them some small dist- ance, he eluded them by slipping into an unoccupied machine and drawing the robe over him. He always did things on the spur of the moment, always was up to some sort of fun-making deviltry. He never made the mistake of trying to be pre- ternaturally old — he was well content just to be young. It was while he was at Yale that he met Lee Morgan, a young Californian. He had known him casually for a time — as a Junior knows a Freshman. Then came that affair when Morgan ' s skate came loose upon the ice and he was slightly stunned by a tumble. Jack helped him up, handed him a picture 21
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Page 32 text:
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24 THE REDWOOD the old San Francisco Presidio, from orderly to Colonel, was aware it was June. Captain Jack Wetherby, with his morning shower, shave and break- fast over, and with his pipe drawing perfectly was utterly aware it was June. He had every reason to be con- tent, and yet he was not. Life some- times seemed a bit flat after over there. He sat there in the lush green grass ; grass all pied with flowers of yellow and blue. He was just gazing at the jewel-blue sky, just gazing and think- ing— She will be home this week — Mar- gery Morgan — I wonder if she looks much like her picture — , and so on. Before him lay the comfortable offi- cers ' quarters — and beyond stretched the parade grounds. On the other side of the fence against which his back rested ran a branch of the road from town. The morning bustle had not yet begun.. That was his favorite spot when he wanted to go and dream alone. Perhaps it attracted him because at that time of the morning no sound dis- turbed him except the note of some wild bird; perhaps because he could glimpse in the tail of his eye, the blue bay dancing far to the left. His thought changed from Margery to Lee; from Lee to the Training Camp; from the Training Camp to fighting. Therewith came recollec- tions of France — of a gallant Picardy regiment he had seen go to its death lilting a brave chanson. His clear eyes filled with tears ; then he began to hum the tune softly. Soon he broke into the strain and sang there to himself, beating time with his old pipe, on which he had carved a Y during his col- lege days. When he had been ' gassed ' a few of the finer tissues in his throat had been destroyed. His ordinary voice, a pleas- ant bass, was not affected. But when- ever he began to sing he struck a queer, high, ludicrous key. Being quite sen- sitive about this, he disliked to be over- heard. Suddenly, while he was singing he heard a machine slow down on the road behind the fence — heard a peal of girl- ish laughter. Then Lee ' s voice — Sis, I ' ll swear that ' s Wetherby. That person! and the car roared and shot away. Wetherby arose with his ears slight- ly pink. He swore softly. That person, he repeated to him- self. Lee, of all persons to play me false. He was just a bit sick at heart over the supposed treachery of his friend. They say she ' s the most beautiful girl in California. I know she ' s the most popular here in the city. So she hates me. Well — and so ran his thoughts. Then as he walked away — to meet her should at least prove in- teresting — but with all his thinking he never for a moment dreamed that the coming day was to prove the most interesting in his whole life. Ill The day was at it ' s warmest. The
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