PAID IN FULL

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 29241, 11 October 1940, Page 3

PAID IN FULL

by H. S. Sarbert

£ NEW SERIAL STORY

UxiAPTER Xi—(Lununucu/ "Do you see him?” he asked, almost sharply. “You mean ” “Can you see father?” Viola nodded. “Pretty rough sort of work, Viola, isn’t it?” “Yes, it is, but ” “And I've brought father to this!” “Harry ” “I mean it,” Harry said, and he spoke with intense bitterness and self reproach. “It's tne truth, you know it’s the truth, Viola; He had a fine business, and he had to sell it because of me; because I was a rogue ” “No, Harry—not that!” “Yes, just that!” Harry cried fiercely. “Or a fool, if you prefer it! So much of a fool that I allowed them to make me into a rogue! And Dad is paying for it! He is doing that kind of work because I’ve brought him to it. He is toiling here because he has a son like me. This is how I’ve repaid him. Ig he had only half the money he had spent on my education in the past, it would not be necessary for him to do anything like this. I am the one who is to blame for it ali!” * “But, Harry, you’re making good again. You’re father has said so, and he has been so pleased, so ” “Making good!” A bitter laugh came from the lips of the young man. “Yes, perhaps I am making good; but what a price is being paid for my is how I’ve repaid him. If he had Harry drew himself erect. “Excuse me!” he said to the girl, and he went forward swiftly to where his father was working. Mr Preston had just hauled a sack up to his shoulders, when he felt the load lightened. “Why, what ” He half turned, and Harry could see how pale he was, and the perspiration that stood in beads upon his forehead. “Harry!” he said in a whisper. “Come on, father,” Harry said, “let opportunity—what a price!” then we can talk.” His father did not argue; it was not the time. But this was the very last thing in the world he had wanted to happen. They got the sack into place, and then he turned to his son. “Why have you come down here?” he demanded. “Who told you to come? Why, there’s Viola, too!” —for Viola had walked down. Harry explained briefly how they had come to be there. “Then you’d better be getting along,” David said. “You’ve got your own work to do I’m sure ” “I’ve got until 3 o’clock, father, and I thought you’d like to come to lunch with me—us.” David shook his head. “I don’t want any lunch,” he told his son. “I—l’ve had something—brought something with me.” “Dad—you’re ill?” “I’m nothing of the sort!” David said swiftly. “Look here, Harry—please go, will you? You’re out of place here. You’ll cause comment, and that ” He paused. Dan Ryan had come from the deck of the barge. He was staring at the newcomer. Dan Ryan’s Comments “Well, well!” he said. A young gentleman in a posh suit and kid gloves has come along to give us a helping hand! That’s very fine indeed! Even come in his own car, I see. And who might this be?” “I’m his son,” Harry answered. “Oh, his son, are you! Well, I’m afraid this isn’t quite the time to be talking to him. There’s work to do. We’re doing this work by contract. and 1 can’t have my men slacking to talk to any casual strangers who happen to come along. Of course”—ana the man’s lips curved in a sneer—“if you are realiy anxious to help, without any pay, I shan’t object to that; but I should advise you to take off your coat and hat and roll up your sleeves to it. This is real man’s work, you know. “Dad ” “I want you to go, Harry,” ' his father put in. “But 1 ” “Don’t argue with me,” David went on sternly. “I know my powers, don’t I. I’m not like you. 1 m strong. I’ve always been strong, and i like this kind of job.” “But you’re not fit for it, Dad.” Harry persisted. “I can see you’re not nt for it. I could see you staggering when I came up, and if you re not careful ”

“I’m all right, I tell you. There’s only one think I want you to do — get cut of here. Oh, please do go!” There was an expression in Davie. Preston’s eyes, a stern set of his jaw that told plainly enough he meant what he said; did not want any more argument—so Harry took his departure. But the day was spoilt for him. He forgot his own achievements, and he thought only of his father’s pale, drawn, lace, why, for the first time in his life his father had looked really old. Small wonder, then, that Harry made a pretence at eating his lunch, that his thoughts were really far away. Viola was full of sympathy for him. “It’s not suitable for him,” Harry muttered, “not now. It might have been once. But he’s had too much to put up with. He can’t do it now. He can’t go on with it. He made a big attempt to deceive me—that’s just his brave spirit, Viola—but I know now why he comes home dead beat at night. And that man he’s working for—did you see his face? Cold and hard —the type that would get the very last ounce from a man. I wanted to tell him just what I thought of him; wanted to strike him down—only that wouldn’t have done any good. And. in any case, he would probably have hit me harder, and I’m only a weakling. That’s been proved, hasn’t it? A weakling in more senses than one!” He laughed, a hard, bitter laugh. Viola laid a hand upon his arm; tried all that she knew to help him. It was not very, long before a crisis came about. (To be daily)