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She could have found another job for the asking。 Her money went for
shoes and blouses and lingerie and silk stockings。 She was forever
buying a vivid necktie for her father and dressing up her protesting mother
in gay colors that went ill with the drab； wrinkled face。 〃If it wasn't for
me； you'd go round looking like one of those Polack women down by the
tracks；〃 Tessie would scold。 〃It's a wonder you don't wear a shawl！〃
That was the Tessie of six months ago； gay； carefree； holding the reins
of her life in her own two capable hands。 Three nights a week； and
Sunday； she saw Chuck Mory。 When she went downtown on Saturday
night it was frankly to meet Chuck； who was waiting for her on
Schroeder's drugstore corner。 He knew it； and she knew it。 Yet they
always went through a little ceremony。 She and Cora； turning into Grand
from Winnebago Street； would make for the post office。 Then down the
length of Grand with a leaping glance at Schroeder's corner before they
reached it。 Yes； there they were； very clean…shaven； clean…shirted； slick…
looking。 Tessie would have known Chuck's blond head among a
thousand。 An air of studied hauteur and indifference as they approached
the corner。 Heads turned the other way。 A low whistle from the boys。
〃Oh； how do！〃
〃Good evening！〃
Both greetings done with careful surprise。 Then on down the street。
On the way back you took the inside of the walk； and your hauteur was
now stony to the point of insult。 Schroeder's corner simply did not exist。
On as far as Megan's； which you entered and inspected； up one brightly
lighted aisle and down the next。 At the dress…goods counter there was a
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neat little stack of pamphlets entitled 〃In the World of Fashion。〃 You
took one and sauntered out leisurely。 Down Winnebago Street now；
homeward bound； talking animatedly and seemingly unconscious of quick
footsteps sounding nearer and nearer。 Just past the Burke House； where
the residential district began； and where the trees cast their kindly shadows：
〃Can I see you home？〃 A hand slipped through her arm； a little tingling
thrill。
〃Oh； why； how do； Chuck！ Hello； Scotty。 Sure； if you're going our
way。〃
At every turn Chuck left her side and dashed around behind her in
order to place himself at her right again； according to the rigid rule of
Chippewa etiquette。 He took her arm only at street crossings until they
reached the tracks； which perilous spot seemed to justify him in retaining
his hold throughout the remainder of the stroll。 Usually they lost Cora
and Scotty without having been conscious of their loss。
Their talk？ The girls and boys that each knew； the day's happenings
at factory and express office； next Wednesday night's dance up in the
Chute； and always the possibility of Chuck's leaving the truck and
assuming the managership of the office。
〃Don't let this go any further； see？ But I heard it straight that old
Benke is going to be transferred to Fond du Lac。 And if he is； why； I step
in； see？ Benke's got a girl in Fondy； and he's been pluggin' to get there。
Gee； maybe I won't be glad when he does！〃 A little silence。 〃Will you
be glad； Tess？ Hm？〃
Tess felt herself glowing and shivering as the big hand closed more
tightly on her arm。 〃Me？ Why； sure I'll be pleased to see you get a job
that's coming to you by rights； and that'll get you better pay； and all。〃
But she knew what he meant； and he knew she knew。
No more of that now。 Chuckgone。 Scottygone。 All the boys at
the watchworks； all the fellows in the neighborhoodgone。 At first she
hadn't minded。 It was exciting。 You kidded them at first： 〃Well；
believe me； Chuck； if you shoot the way you play ball； you're a gone goon
already。〃
〃All you got to do； Scotty； is to stick that face of yours up over the top
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of the trench and the Germans'll die of fright and save you wasting
bullets。〃
There was a great knitting of socks and sweaters and caps。 Tessie's
big… knuckled； capable fingers made you dizzy； they flew so fast。 Chuck
was outfitted as for a polar expedition。 Tess took half a day off to bid
him good…by。 They marched down Grand Avenue； that first lot of them；
in their everyday suits and hats； with their shiny yellow suitcases and their
pasteboard boxes in their hands； sheepish； red…faced； awkward。 In their
eyes； though； a certain look。 And so off for Camp Sherman； their young
heads sticking out of the car windows in clustersblack； yellow； brown；
red。 But for each woman on the depot platform there was just one head。
Tessie saw a blurred blond one with a misty halo around it。 A great
shouting and waving of handkerchiefs：
〃Good…by！ Good…by！ Write； now！ Be sure！ Mebbe you can get
off in a week； for a visit。 Good…by！ Good〃
They were gone。 Their voices came back to the crowd on the depot
platform high； clear young voices； almost like the voices of children；
shouting。
Well； you wrote lettersfat； bulging lettersand in turn you received
equally plump envelopes with a red emblem in one corner。
You sent boxes of homemade fudge （nut variety） and cookies and the
more durable forms of cake。
Then； unaccountably； Chuck was whisked all the way to California。
He was furious at parting with his mates； and his indignation was
expressed in his letters to Tessie。 She sympathized with him in her
replies。 She tried to make light of it； but there was a little clutch of terror
in it； too。 California！ Might as well send a person to the end of the world
while they were about it。 Two months of that。 Then； inexplicably again；
Chuck's letters bore the astounding postmark of New York。 She thought；
in a panic； that he was Franceward bound； but it turned out not to be so。
Not yet。