The little typewriter smiled a smile of mingled interest and apprehension. “I wish you good luck, Mr. Gary,” she responded. A full three-quarters of an hour elapsed while Walter waited the following day in the office of the National Transportation Company. Had Bailey forgotten his appointment? Had the directors accepted or rejected his offer? When would they take a consignment? He was thinking these and other thoughts, as he sat leaning in the chair, turning his hat around and around in his hands. “Well, I’ve kept you waiting some time,” said Mr. Bailey, hastily entering the office. Walter tried to conceal his anxiety. “You asked me to come at three, and I like to be on time, although I am in a bit of a rush.” “Yes, these are busy times for all of us. This question of feeding Europe is a perplexing one, aside from business transactions. Food stuffs must be rushed to the hungry ones at any cost. If you have been over seas you no doubt know how they need our help.” “No, I didn’t get over,” replied Walter somewhat dolefully. “I tried even before our country declared war. I wanted to go over with the Canadians: after I failed there and the U. S. took it up I tried again, but they turned me down, too. I have a dislocated shoulder and a broken knee cap--got them playing football at college; in fact, I was on my back two months with them. But I thought I was pretty well over it by this time--only feel it when the weather is bad.” “Those who wanted to serve and were rejected should have had a badge, stripe or something to show they were not slackers,” sympathetically replied Mr. Bailey. “The country rejects the individual for things that are not his fault, and the world thinks as it pleases.” “Oh, well, it could have been worse. I did what I could at home putting Liberty Loans over, buying bonds, and making the soldiers comfortable in a general way, but none of it compensates for the real thing.” “Well, I think I’ve put the lumber deal through for you, although I had some difficulty doing it. Everybody is suspicious of free goods. I explained to the directors that your reason for giving the dunnage was to have it turned over to your London agent for disposal, after the cargoes were unloaded on the other side. They thought it a very fair proposition.” Bailey drew his chair nearer to Walter and smiled encouragingly. “It will certainly serve both your purpose and mine,” interposed Walter. “It will save you the expense of buying lumber with which to pack your wheat, and it will enable me to place quantities of it on the other side.” “A clever idea,” repeated Bailey. “Can you have two hundred thousand feet delivered to me by Thursday?” “I think so--by rushing like Sam Hill.” “All right, draw up your contract and get a move on you.” “I have already prepared it and have it here in my pocket. You see, I was hoping for the best.” The contract was signed, and he hurried to break the good news to Miss Franklin.