Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

"Pretty bad, sonny," sighed his fatlier. "Well, you'd better nin along and play." "Can't I stay with you?" "Yes, if you want to." A semi-undei-ground room had been fitted up as a laboratory, and Stephen had worked there frequently, after hoiu's at the factory, with a chum named Jim Mayton. He de- scended to it now, and the boy went with hini, but his thoughts were occupied with the acci- dent, and he was not in the mood for experi- ment. He sank wearily into a chair, and he was so quiet that after a while Steve thought he was asleep and stole away to rejoin the other boys. Stephen's moodiness persisted all that day and the nest, but Virginia had her o^vn circle of friends and did not trouble much about him. The youngster went to school, but spent all the time he could with his father, and this devotion did not go unrewarded. On tlie third morning Stephen put on rough clothes, got out the car, stowed rod and line and creel and food in it, and took Steve for a long run to a stream that wandered through a wood, up by Albany. It was a perfect day and a pei-fect scene, but Stephen was no more in the humour for fishing tban he had been for chemistry. The line was baited and cast, but after that he squatted on a log and became absorbed in his own bitter thoughts. Steve sat on the bank beside him and began to read aloud from a magazine ho had brought with hmi. "' Again and again he heard that pathetic scream. Drawing his automatic, Saxton crept forward cautiously into the darkened room, knowing full well that at any moment he might bo discovered. What lay beyond that curtain ? Would he be able to rescue Beatrice ? Or would he perish, like so many more had perished bofoie him? To be continued ' "Aw, gosh!"' Steve flung down the maga- zine and looked up at his father's gloomy face. "Why do they always do that, dad?" "Do what, son?" mquired Stephen. "Oh, dad, you weren't even listening!" "I'm sorry." Stephen became all attention. "What happened?" "Nothing," shrugged the boy, "except it was a continued story, and it sorta made me sore. I bet you were tliinking about—about what happened at the plant." "I'm afraid I was," his father admitted. "But you shouldn't think about it all the time, dad. That's why 1 was reading to you." "Okay. I'll snap out of it." The dark thoughts were banished, and after that Stephen enjoyed the jaimt almost as much as Steve. It seemed as though the fish began to bito from that moment, and the creel was full of trout when they built a camp fire, cooked flapjacks over it in a pan, and drank hot coffee from a thermos flask. "Well, son," said Stephen, when the meal was over and the shadows in the wood were Ijeginning to lengthen, "don't you think it's about time we started for home?" "Don't want to go homo," declared Steve with the frank directness of boyhood. "W'hy can't we camp here for a week?" "I wish we could," confessed his father. "But I've got tilings to do, and you've got to go to school. Besides, your mother might wori-y." Steve did not believe that his mother would worry to any extent, and he had no desire to go to school, but he did believe that his father must do .some work, and he did not attempt to argue. "Aw, all right," he said resignedly, "but let's do this again real soon." "You bet wo will," promised Stephen. "Now let's get eoing." A REJECTED OFFER AT four o'clock that aftei-noon Gilbert Westx)n and Henry Downey called at the house in Atherton Avenue to see Stephen, and Virginia prevailed upon theni to wait. She gave them tea, and she did her best to entertain them, feeling sure that it was upon a matter of importance to Stephen that they had come all tlio way from the citv. The clock on the mantelpiece in the drawing- room stiaick five, but still there was no Stephen. The minute hand crept round to Fcbni.iry 24tb, 1940, flve-and-twenty past five, and then Weston ci-ushed a cigarette-end in an ash-tray and said : "We really must go, Mrs. Garfield." "Ob, don't tell me you're going after wail- ing all this time," protested Virginia from her easy-chair behind the low table from which tea had been .served. " I'm afraid we must." " Oh, but he's sure to he hero any minute! Just another cup of tea, will you?" But Weston shook his head" and started to lise. "We have a very important engagement," said Downey. " Stephen will be .so terribly disappointed," she told them. "He was so upset about the trouble at the plant. He felt that you blamed him for it—which was ridiculous, of course." "Oh, of course 1" mui-mured Weston. She heard the sound of a car turning in at the gateway, and she deserted her chair with an expression of relief on her face. '"That sounds like Stephen now!" she ex- claimed. "Will you excuse mo, please?" She flitted up the stairs into the hall and lan out from the house when she saw Stephen and Steve getting out from the dark blue saloon. "Stephen," she cried. "Mr. Weston's here —lie's been waiting for hours 1" Stephen did not seem to be particularly pl(^ased to hear it. "What does he want?" he asked gruffly. "He has some good news for you." Stephen turned to the youngster. "Unload the stuff, sou," ho -aid, "and I'll 1)0 right back to help you." '■ I thought you'd never get here," Virginia complained as she led the way to the drawing- room. President and general manager were on their feet when their former chief cliemist descended the three stairs iu jumper, coarse trousers, and fi.shing-bodts, and greeted them stiffly. Weston adopted quite a genial tone. "Well, Garfield," he said, "we've boon waiting for you since four o'eloc^k." " I just wouldn't let them go," said Virginia brightly. "So you and your boy have been out play- ing fishermen, ch?" Weston lit a fresli cigarette. "I'm surprised at you, Gaifield." "How's that?" asked Steiihen coldly. "For taking ir.o .so .seriously the other day — in all that excitement. You must know by now that my bark's worse than my bite." "Of course." Stephen waved a hand. " Won't you sit down ?" They all became .seated, and Virginia ponied a cup of tea for her husband. "It was an accident, of course," Weston wont on. "A tragic accident. When Bayard recovered consciousness in hospital wo found out it wasn't vouv fault in the least." "Scolt deliberately disobeyed orders," put in Downey. "That's what I've been ti'j-ing to make liim understand," said Virginia. Stephen took a cigarette from a box on a table, lit it, and blew a cloud of smoke. "Nice of you gentlemen to come along and tell me," he commented. "That wasn't our only reason for coming to see you," said Downey. "As a matter of fact, that accident—tragic though it was " "Come to the point, Downey," We.ston brusquely interrupted. "We're interested in that explosive, fjurlield. Intensely interested. We feel th.it it has luilimitod possibilities— especially in the manufacture of ammunition." "Undoubtedly," Stephen crossed his long legs and leaned back in his chair. " 1'hcre's a fortune in it," asserted Downey. "Not only for us, but for you." Stephen frowned at tho glowing end of his cigarette. "I wonder if yon gentlemen realise what you're asking mo to do," ho said slowly and incisively. " Scott tried out just a small por- tion of that mixture, and you saw what hap- pened. Tho laboratory was blown to bits and many lives wore lost. Do you want to make nio responsible for tho death of millions?" "Stephen!" cried Virginia in dismaj'. "Do you know what you're saying?" "Of course I know what I'm saying," re- torted hor hiLsband sternly. "There's a for- tune in it all right, but for every dollar a human life! Gentlemen, I don't want tliafc kind of money I" Downey was turning one thumb slowly over the other and trying to hide his disappoint- jiient with a very feeble smile. Weston looked as though he found it difficult to control his temper. "I'm surprised at you, Gai-field," he said. "What about your loyalty? What about the thousands we'vo let you spend on all those experiments? And now, the moment you get something really worth while, you refuse to reveal it on sentimental grounds. As a matter of fact, we're legally entitled to that formula." "Not under the terms of the contract I had with you, Mr. Weston," denied Stephen. "Now, let's not enter into the legal phases," said Downey. "Look, Garfield, a lot of things might have been kept back for the very reasons you've stated—picric acid, chlorine gas, dynamite—all very useful. Think it over, please." " Sorry, there's nothing to think over." Weston got to his feet, defeated and angry. Downey followed his example. Stephen and Virginia rose. "You're making a mistake," said Downey. "Good-afternoon, gentlemen," said Stephen. Virginia escorted the visitors to tho hall, where she handed them their bats and opened the front door. "All I can say is that I'm terrilily sorry," "We understand, of course," purred Downey. ' "But I think I can talk him iirto if." AVestoii brightened considerably. "That's nice of you, Mrs. Garfield," ho said. "I'm sure you can do more with him than we can." Stephen was standing with his back to tho fireplace when she re-entered the drawing- room, handri deep in trouser pockets and almost a scowl on his face. "I can't understand men like that," he growled. " Tragedy means absolutely nothing to them. All they can see is dollars and cents." "But, Stephen," .she reminded him, "what happened was an accident." " Of coui-so it was an accident—and I was blamed for it! But to-day it's a different story, and why ? Because they see a chance to make niillious out of an explosive." "What's wiong about that?" she questioned. "Everything, so far as I'm concerned." "Why?" "Why?" "Ho stared at her reproachfully. "Because I'm not in the business of finding ways and means of destroying human life— and that's exactly wliat it amounts (o! What would happen it that explosive wore used in warfare ? Air-bombs containing it would destroy whole cities with an appalling loss of human lives. Do you think that kind of money would tempt me? There's only one thing that'd ever make me release th.it fonnula, and that is if this country should ever need it for defensive purposes." Virginia knew his resolute nature, but sho was not prepared to givo up the prospect of liches without a struggle. " Can't the stuff be used for any other purpose except war?" she inquired. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But I won't take that chance. So far my work has been creative, not destructive. Let'.s keep it that way and we'll be happy. Besides, I have other things to do that may bo even worth moio than that." "What things?" " WJiat I was v,rorking on when T discovered ilio explosive. When I find tliat it'll be .some- thing far more valuable. I'm going to im- prove on that laboratory in the basciuont and get going on it with Jim Mayton." Consternation rounded her _ blue eyes and brought sparks of resentment into thcni. " Stephen Garfield!" sho cried. " Here yoii have a chance to make a fortune, and you throw it away to go on chasing rainbows!" She fuatchod up the tca-tr.iy, to the jeopardy of the china that was upon it, and ivcnt oft' in a rage of disappointment. SUCCESS I THE s#mi-underground laboratory was moid fully equipped for research work-, and day after day—and often _ far into tho night- Stephen cairied on his experiments with thd aid of Jim !Mnytoii, a bright-eyed young' i