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Updated: May 31, 2025


They can't figure how I could even get a look in... Of course I'm convinced that Kendrick shares his commissions with Hilmer, which is against the rules of the Broker's Exchange. But he didn't ask for any shakedown... Brauer and I ordered some office furniture, and to-morrow I'll advertise for a girl." "I've got one for you already," she said, deliberately. "Who?"

Returning to the office at four o'clock on almost any afternoon, he grew to feel almost sure that he would find Hilmer there, bending over Helen's shoulder as he pointed out some vital point in the contract they were both examining. He was a trifle uneasy at first dreading the day when Hilmer would approach him on the matter of sharing commissions.

Hilmer, I want to do all I can... I'd make any sacrifice for Fred." She paused to give him a chance to put in a word, but he sat silent. It was plain that he didn't intend to help out her growing embarrassment. "It's all come out of a clear sky," she went on, trailing the fringe of her beaded hand bag across her shoe tops.

So far, he was nothing but the product of Hilmer's puzzling benevolence. One jam in the wheel and everything halted. He thought the whole matter out. He was still what Hilmer had intimated on the night of that disturbing dinner party a creature with a back bent by continual bowing and scraping a full-grown man with standards inherited instead of acquired.

"You came out of a clear sky ... when I needed you most ... as you have always done... I didn't think I could ever escape that man waiting for me below not even for an instant... To-morrow, at this time, I may be dead ... or worse." "Dead?" "To-morrow, at noon, I'm scheduled to blow up Axel Hilmer... There will be five others in the party ... my wife and his among them."

Would they find him here wrapped in the cool fragrance of the night, or must he go down to them, yielding himself up silently and without bitterness? He had touched life at every point. He could say, now, with Hilmer: "I know all the dirty, rotten things of life by direct contact!" Yes, even to murder.

Hilmer?" he asked, suddenly, as he reached for his hat. She shrugged. "There isn't any change," she replied, almost inaudibly. "Shall I bring you anything from the apartment?" "No... I'll go myself this afternoon and get some things together... I need a little air, anyway." She followed him to the door. "Then I understand you don't want this?" she inquired, indicating the check in her hand.

But as he folded up the letter and slipped it into his coat pocket he began to have a suspicion as to the reason for Brauer's haste. The next morning Fred Starratt went down to the office alone. Mrs. Hilmer had telephoned the night before an invitation for Helen to join them in a motor trip down the Ocean Shore Boulevard to Half moon Bay and home by way of San Mateo.

Storch went out and bought a paper, flinging a section of it at Fred. A thickly headlined account of the launching at the Hilmer yards occupied chief place on the first page of the local news section. There was a picture of the hull that had been put through on schedule time in spite of strikes and lockouts, and another one of Hilmer, and a second photograph of a woman.

Most women at her age would have been sagging a bit, the cords of youth slackened by the weight of maternity or the continual pull against ill health and genteel poverty. Or they would have been smothered in the plump content of Mrs. Hilmer. Helen Starratt's slenderness had still a virginal quality and she knew every artifice that heightened this effect.

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