Ruth watched the want ads in the papers and made many inquiries in her
effort to secure employment. It was now three weeks since she had quit
her job at the bank, and she had not as yet secured a position. She
did all the public stenographic work she could secure but was unable
in this way to earn enough to provide for the current expenses of the
family. She was forced to draw on the special fund that she had been
so carefully guarding in the hopes that her father might become a well
man. Now she was forced to use some of this money--they must have fuel
and provisions. Every time she took a dollar from this her heart ached,
because she felt she was giving up her father's chance to regain his
health.
Ruth, who was naturally optimistic, at times became quite despondent.
She frequently cried herself to sleep. Harold King was now prospering
in his profession. He had, since securing the big job at the
capital, secured two other jobs in Wilford Springs. He now employed
a draughtsman in the office. He offered Ruth a position as his
stenographer. She knew that he did not need a stenographer and declined.
One day Ruth saw an ad in the paper asking for a stenographer. The ad
had been inserted by the R.G. Wing Mortgage Company. She lost no time
in going to their office.
She found Mr. Wing a very pleasant appearing man.
When he entered the room where she was waiting she introduced herself
and made the object of her visit known.
He was in need of a stenographer. Had she had experience? She informed
him that she had. When he asked where she had formerly worked she
hesitated slightly before telling him that she had worked for the
Central State Bank of Wilford Springs. He dictated a letter and had her
transcribe it on the typewriter. He was well pleased with the test. It
was entirely satisfactory.
"Would you be satisfied with a salary of one hundred twenty-five
dollars per month to start with?" Mr. Wing asked.
"Yes. That would be all right."
"I will let you know tomorrow. I think I shall want you."
Ruth left with a lighter heart than she had carried since she had lost
her place at the bank.
That afternoon Mr. Wing was transacting some business at the Central
State Bank. "Stover, you had a stenographer here by the name of Ruth
Babcock?"
"Yes, she was my former stenographer."
"Is she competent?"
"Yes. She's a good stenographer so far as her ability is concerned."
"Why did she quit you?"
"I discharged her."
"What's wrong with her?"
"Ruth is all right so far as doing the work is concerned, but she would
get out and run around with a disreputable young fellow. I gave her a
chance to quit going with him and retain her job, but she refused to
stay away from him. While I would like to have helped her I could not
afford to keep a girl in the bank who was keeping questionable company,
especially when she absolutely refused to promise to quit him."
"Well, I'm glad you told me that. I do not want a girl whose reputation
is bad or who is conducting herself in a way that it is likely to
become bad."
The following morning when Ruth received the mail her eye at once
caught the R.G. Wing Mortgage Company in the upper left hand corner of
one of the letters. Eagerly she tore it open. Disappointment, black
and hideous, rose from the ruins of a shattered hope and obscured the
sunlight with a cloud of despair. How could she ever stand so much ill
fortune! She was almost driven to desperation. The note read:
"Dear Miss Babcock:
"I regret to inform you that I cannot use you as stenographer.
"Yours truly,
"R.G. Wing."
Ruth rushed to her room and her tense and overwrought nervous system
found relief in tears--nature's safety valve.
* * * * *
Charles Wilson went to the office of R.G. Wing Mortgage Company for the
purpose of securing a mortgage for one of his clients.
"How are you, Mr. Wing. How is business?"
"I am very well, Mr. Wilson, but I am away behind with my work. My
stenographer quit a week ago and the work has been piling up ever
since, waiting for her successor, whom I have not yet been able
to find. I thought the other day that I had found a peach of a
stenographer, but later I learned that she isn't just what she should
be."
"Character bad?" queried Wilson.
"If it isn't bad she seems to be doing all she can to make it bad. I
understand that she keeps bad company."
"Who is the girl?"
"Her name is Babcock. She used to be the stenographer at the Wilford
Springs Central State Bank."
"I had her do some work for me once when my stenographer was gone and
she did good work."
"I'm satisfied that she can do the work all right, but you see I can't
afford to have a girl in my office whose reputation is bad or whose
associations are questionable."
"I hadn't heard anything wrong about the girl. Are you sure that there
isn't some mistake about this?"
"I got it straight. Stover told me himself."
"Did he tell you who her evil associates are?"
"No. I didn't ask him. He said a disreputable fellow."
When Wilson returned to his own office he rang Central.
"684," he called.
"Hello, is this Harold?
"Can you come over to my office for a few minutes?
"Yes. It's important."
In a few minutes Harold King arrived.
"Haven't got a thousand dollar check for me?" he asked as he came in.
"I am sorry to say I haven't, but I heard something a little while ago
that I thought you should know. I was over at the office of the Wing
Mortgage Company and Wing told me that his stenographer has left him
and he is having trouble finding another."
"I'll tell Miss Babcock."
"She has already applied, but someone has been doing some knocking."
"If anybody has been knocking on Ruth it is that whelp of a Stover."
"Evidently you are not in love with Stover," Wilson commented.
"Could you love a rattle snake?" Harold asked.
"I didn't call you over here to discuss Stover. I called you to tell
you what is between Miss Babcock and the job."
"What is it?"
"You."
"Me? What do you mean?"
"Wing has heard that she is keeping company with a disreputable fellow.
You are the fellow, aren't you?"
"Yes," answered Harold as he started for the door.
"Wait a minute. Where are you going?"
"I'm going down to 'mop up' on Stover."
"Just hold on a little bit. I haven't told you that it was Stover who
told Wing."
"It was Stover, all right. I recognize his hand."
"Very well, it was Stover; but he did not say it was you."
"He meant me, all right."
"Maybe this girl has been keeping company with some other fellow."
"I am the only man she has kept company with since she came to Wilford
Springs except she has been with Golter, Stover's nephew, a few times."
"You'd better make sure of that."
Harold picked up the 'phone and placed the receiver to his ear. Central
did not answer promptly and he rang impatiently.
When he at last got Ruth on the line he said, "Ruth, this is Harold.
I want to ask you some very personal questions. I am sure you will
understand that I have some good reasons for asking or I would not do
so."
"All right, Harold, if you do not ask my age, I probably will be
willing to answer," she replied.
"How many times have you gone with Chester Golter?"
"Oh, I suppose about a thousand." Then came a rippling wave of laughter
over the wire.
"Ruth, I am not joking, I really want to know."
"Maybe Golter would like to know how many times I have been with you."
"I have a good reason for asking. It's to your interest to answer me
seriously."
"Well, if I must be serious and confess to my father confessor, it was
five times."
"Have you since coming to Wilford Springs ever gone with anybody else?"
"No other young man."
"That's what I mean. Girls don't count."
"Oh, thank you for the information that girls don't count," she said
with a tone of injured pride.
"Then Golter is the only man you have kept company with in Wilford
Springs besides myself and you were with him only five times?"
"Yes, that is true, but why do you ask?"
"I have a good reason for wanting to know. I will tell you all about it
later."
He hung up the receiver without the customary "good-bye" and rushed
from the room with Wilson shouting after him, "Be careful what you say
and do."
Harold lost no time in getting down to the Central State Bank. Stover
was in the banking room when Harold entered. Harold informed the
cashier that he wished to speak to Stover. The cashier called Stover,
who came to the cashier's window. "Stover," said Harold, "I want to
talk to you in private, and I want to talk to you right now." There was
no mistaking the anger and determination in his voice.
"This is private enough if you speak low," said Stover, as he put his
face close to the bars that protected the window.
"All right, if it's private enough for you it is for me. What I want
to know is what you mean by telling Wing that Miss Babcock keeps bad
company?"
"Well, young man, I don't know that this is any of your business, but
if you would like to know I will tell you that I meant exactly what I
said. I discharged her from my employ for that reason."
"Stover, do you mean to call me disreputable?"
"I didn't say anything about you to Wing."
"You said that she associated with a disreputable young man. You didn't
mean Golter, did you?"
"No, sir; I didn't."
"Then you must have meant me, because Golter and myself are the only
young men Miss Babcock has kept company with in this town."
"Well, King, I did object to this girl working for me and continuing to
keep company with you."
"What are your objections to me?"
"Well, you're not my kind."
"Thank God for that."
"You belong to the Ku Klux Klan and that's sufficient to condemn you. I
won't stand for an employee of mine associating with one who belongs to
those cowardly midnight riders who hide behind a mask."
"Stover, I dare you to come out from behind those bars and say that."
"I don't have to come out."
"No, you are too cowardly. You talk about men hiding behind masks
and you hide behind iron bars when your opponent stands before you
unmasked. You dirty cur, how can you have the face to talk about
cowards and at the same time try to whip me over the shoulders of a
defenseless girl?"
"I'll not talk to you any longer; my time is valuable." He turned away
from the window as Harold said, "Stover, I warn you from now on to keep
your dirty tongue off Ruth Babcock." Without replying, Stover went into
his private office and closed and bolted the door after him.
Harold went directly from the bank to the office of R.G. Wing. He found
Mr. Wing alone in his office. "Come in, King, and have a chair," said
Wing when he saw Harold in the door.
"Mr. Wing, I just learned this morning that a Miss Babcock, who was
formerly employed at the Central State Bank, has made application to
you for employment."
"Yes."
"I also heard that Stover told you that she associates with a
disreputable young man."
"Yes."
"I'm that disreputable young man."
"You? What are you talking about, Harold? Have you suddenly lost your
mind?" King and Wing were well acquainted with each other. They were
both members of the Klan, and of the Masonic Order. They both attended
the big Bible School class taught every Sunday by Judge Rider. Wing had
often referred to Harold as one of the finest, clean-cut fellows in the
city. "What kind of a joke are you trying to pull on me, Harold?" he
asked.
"None whatever. Stover meant me."
"He didn't say you."
"No, but this young lady, who is as good as gold, has not kept company
with any young man in Wilford Springs except myself and a few times
with Golter, who is Stover's nephew. There isn't the slightest doubt
but that he meant me. In fact he practically admitted it to me."
"Well, what is the matter between you and Stover?"
Harold told Wing of his trouble with Stover, beginning back with his
application for the position of architect for the city building. He
went fully into detail. When he had finished Wing brought his fist down
on the table. "I'd like to thrash him, the dirty hound."
"He would have got the thrashing, all right, if he had stuck his head
out from behind those bars," said Harold.
"I don't doubt it and he certainly richly deserves it."
* * * * *
It was the middle of the afternoon. Ruth's mind had been greatly
perturbed since the mail had brought her the disappointing letter.
Since Harold had called, her disappointment vied with curiosity for the
mastery.
"Ruth, you are wanted at the 'phone," said Aunt Clara.
"Oh, dear, I wish they wouldn't bother me when I feel so bad."
"Hello!"
"Is this Miss Ruth Babcock?" It was a man's voice.
"Yes. This is she."
"This is R.G. Wing speaking. If you have not yet accepted a position
you can come to work for me in the morning. I have changed my mind
since writing you."
"Thank you, I will be on hand in the morning."
Ruth's heart leaped for joy. The clouds of gloom were dispelled. The
remainder of the afternoon the tasks she performed about the house
seemed light. Frequently she hummed some joyous air.