WORLD'S END

Lanny and his mother had also discussed Johannes Robin, prosperous speculator in cast-off armaments. He journeyed frequently to Paris and other places; surely he must know persons at the border, and could arrange to import a competent Swiss musician to play duets with his son! Lanny composed a nice sociable letter, telling the news about himself and his parents, and saying that he hoped to see Mr. Robin when he came to the city, and did he have any plans to come? So tactful was this letter that Mr. Robin missed the point and replied even more sociably, telling how happy his whole family was to hear from Lanny, and all about what they were doing and thinking. Only at the end did he mention that he had no plans to come to Paris just now, but that when he did, Lanny would be sure to hear from him. What Lanny said was: "Damn!"

III

On account of her secret "house guest," Madame Detaze was compelled to receive her friends in the parlor of the hotel, a circumstance which sooner or later was bound to awaken their curiosity. Only two persons, her brother and her son, were accustomed to come up unannounced; the next afternoon, when Lanny entered his mother's drawing room, he found his Uncle Jesse seated there. Kurt wasn't visible, so Lanny assumed that he must be hidden in Beauty's boudoir. The youth couldn't get away from the feeling that he was playing a part in a stage comedy. Suppose the German captain of artillery should happen to be seized by a fit of coughing or sneezing - there would be quite a job of explaining to Beauty's brother!

But this calamity did not befall. With more than one of his twisted smiles the brother told about his adventures with the agents of the Sыretй Gйnйrale, who had descended upon him within a couple of hours after the attack upon Clemenceau. Jesse hadn't heard about the incident, and was caught with a letter half-written on his table - fortunately it dealt with American affairs! The police took him to the Prйfecture and gave him a grilling, threatening among other things to expel him from the country. The painter had taken a high stand, declaring that this would make more propaganda than he could achieve by a hundred speeches.

"They wanted to know about my sister and my nephew," added Jesse. "I gather that few things would please them more than to be able to tie the Crillon up with the attempt on Clemenceau."

"They all think we're pro-German," replied the youth. "Or at any rate they say they do."

Beauty had been told about the rйunion, so Lanny was free to ask his uncle: "Do you know that fellow Cottin?"

"Never heard of him," was the reply. "I don't go much with anarchists. It's my judgment they nearly always have a screw loose."

Lanny had been taught by his father that all varieties of Reds were in that condition. Said he: "Do you remember a young workingman who came onto the platform at the meeting and shook hands with you?"

"There were several who did that."

"This one talked to you and you patted him on the back."

"Probably he was praising my speech," said Uncle Jesse. "If so, I liked him."

"Don't you remember one who wore corduroys?"

The painter searched his memory. "I believe I do. A rather frail chap, looking as if he'd been sick?"

"That was Cottin."

Jesse exhibited astonishment - and his nephew watched him closely. Was it genuine, or was it good acting? No doubt many comrades of the young anarchist were forgetting him just now. Distrust of his uncle had been so deeply ground into Lanny's mind that he was never sure if any of the painter's emotions were genuine.

Beauty interrupted the drama with some remark about the wickedness of shooting that poor old man who was doing so much for France. This caused her brother to turn upon her with what certainly seemed a genuine emotion. He said that attempts at assassination were foolish, because they didn't accomplish the purpose desired; but so far as wickedness was concerned, how about statesmen and diplomats who had caused the murder of ten million innocent persons and the destruction of three hundred billions of dollars' worth of property? And what were you going to say about bureaucrats and politicians who left the poor to stand in line for hours waiting for a chance to buy a few scraps of half-spoiled food at twice the prices charged before the war?

Jesse Blackless was started on the same speech he had made at the meeting. He told about food rotting in warehouses at Le Havre and Marseille, about freight cars rusting idle - and all because speculators reaped fortunes out of every increase in prices. "What does it mean to you that the cost of living in Paris has doubled, and that some foods cost five or six times as much? All you have to do is to ask Robbie for another check."

"I assure you you're mistaken," said Beauty, spunkily - for she had had plenty of practice quarreling with her brother. "I've lost ten pounds since I came to Paris."