32 Caliber | Page 3

of us, and when he sat at the piano and sang,
every man looked at his wife or his fiancée and wondered where the
lightning was going to strike. For although he was a very proper young
bachelor for months, showing no unseemly interest in women, we all of
us, I think, secretly felt that he was setting the stage for a "grand coup."
If he had singled out Helen from the first, he couldn't have played his
game better, for his seeming indifference to her loveliness piqued her
almost to madness. During the early months of our entrance in the war
he was called back to France, and every man in Eastbrook breathed a
sigh of relief. There wasn't one of us who could say why we thought
him a cad, but just the same, I doubt if there was a father in Eastbrook
who would willingly have given his daughter to him. He was too much
of the ideal lover to make a good husband. There was something about
him, too, that made no man want to claim him as a particular friend, but
perhaps it was because we were all jealous.
While most of the younger men of the town were in France, or, like Jim
and myself, in a training-camp, Frank Woods came back, and this time
there was no mistaking whom he had picked out for his attentions.
Until the war was over and Jim home, it was not noticeable, for he was
most meticulous in his behavior, but with Jim busy trying to straighten
out our tangled practise, Woods lost no time in taking advantage of his

opportunities. And there had been opportunities enough, heaven knows,
with Jim surrounded by clients, yet trying in his clumsy, lovable way to
remonstrate with Helen for seeing so much of Woods. My interference
had only increased his opportunities, for the evening I told her what
people were saying, she quarreled with Jim, and as a result he threw
himself into his work with an energy in which enthusiasm had no part.
All the time these thoughts were running through my head--and they
ran much faster than I can set them down--I had been throwing my
clothes on, knowing something had to be done, yet what that something
was I couldn't for the life of me figure out.
"Come on, Jim!" I said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him from
his dejected position.
"Where to?" he responded wearily.
"First of all, we're going to shut this thing up. The Sun would like
nothing better than to spread it thick all over the front page of their
filthy sheet."
"You're right, old boy! I'd forgotten about the newspapers. It would be
horrible for Helen to have her name dragged through the mud."
"I wasn't thinking of Helen," I responded testily, "but a lot of cheap
notoriety won't help our law practise any."
All the spirit seemed to have seeped out of his system, so I pushed him
into my car, preferring to take the wheel rather than have him drive. I
can always think better when I have a steering wheel in my hands, and
knowing with what speed Jim drove ordinarily, I didn't care to trust my
precious body to him in his overwrought condition.
We were just backing into the drive when one of the servants came
running from the club.
"Oh, Mr. Thompson!" he called.

I stopped the car and waited for him to come up.
"What is it?"
"You're wanted on the telephone."
I jumped from the car and started for the club. There were the usual
groups of tea-drinkers and bridge-players scattered about on the broad
veranda, and it seemed to me, as I ran up the steps, that they all stopped
talking and looked at me, I thought, with curiosity, if not with pity.
There would be no use shutting up the newspapers if that bunch of
gossips were in possession of the scandal.
I hurried to the telephone and slammed the door to the booth, expecting
to hear the voice of some reporter demand if there was any truth to the
rumor that Mrs. James Felderson had run off with Frank Woods. To my
buzzing brain it seemed that the whole world must have heard the
news.
"Hello," I called.
"Is that you, Warren?" It was Helen's voice.
"Helen!" I yelled. "For God's sake, where are you?"
"I am at the house. Listen, Warren! Have you seen Jim?"
Her voice sounded faint and strangely uncontrolled.
"Yes--yes," I shouted. "He's here with me now."
"Then bring him here quickly, Warren! Please hurry."
"But, Helen----"
"Don't ask me any questions, please." There was a catch in the voice on
the other end of the wire. "I c-can't answer any questions now, but
bring Jim,