“All right; heave ahead,” he said quietly.
“Grandfather, you and I have had a four years' agreement to work together in this office. It isn't up yet, but--but I want to break it. I want you to let me off.”
“Humph! . . . Let you off, eh? . . . What for?”
“That's what I came here to tell you. Grandfather, I can't stay here--now. I want to enlist.”
Captain Zelotes did not answer. His hand moved upward and pulled at his beard.
“I want to enlist,” repeated Albert. “I can't stand it another minute. I must. If it hadn't been for you and our promise and--and Madeline, I think I should have joined the Canadian Army a year or more ago. But now that we have gone into the war, I CAN'T stay out. Grandfather, you don't want me to, do you? Of course you don't.”
“If you can wait a spell,” he said slowly, “I might be able to fix it so's you can get a chance for an officer's commission. I'd ought to have some pull somewheres, seems so.”
Albert sniffed impatient disgust. “I don't want to get a commission--in that way,” he declared.
“Humph! You'll find there's plenty that do, I shouldn't wonder.”
“Perhaps, but I'm not one of them. And I don't care so much for a commission, unless I can earn it. And I don't want to stay here and study for it. I want to go now. I want to get into the thing. I don't want to wait.”
Captain Lote leaned forward. His gray eyes snapped.
“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.”
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.