Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1917 - Feb 1918)

For Valour 109 sum — and it was — over two hundred dollars. The bag itself was probably worth another hundred. This, with her own savings, would enable Henry to make good his "losses," and some time later she would repay Charmion. That night Melia brought her brother to task. "I have sacrificed my honesty for you," she said bluntly. "It's been an ordeal for me. I don't want to talk about it. Some men are beasts, Henry. The manager of the theater is one." Into the boy's eyes flashed, a gleam of fire that for the first time in his life lifted him to the level of his fighting father. "He insulted you?" he cried. "I'll kill him !" Melia smiled. "Let's say the man was drunk. It's over and done with, Henry. It won't occur again. He'll be apologetic to-morrow. I 'refused his advances,' as they say in the novels. So we'll forget it. He refused to raise my salary, and I stole the money from a woman who can afford to lose it." She gave him a package of bills. "This will clear your indebtedness, I hope," she went on. "You spoke of 'killing,' a moment ago, Henry. It made me glad to see the glow in your eyes. The real man that is in you has been hidden during all these fearful days of war. It is small matter that your sister should have been insulted; this one big thing in Europe overtops every other thing. The Hun is at the gate. Civilization is at stake. The world's dearest treasures are at the mercy of the trained barbarian. Murderers by land and sea have been let loose ' upon the world. The gospel of frightfulness is being preached and put into practice by these sons of hell. And yet you talk of marrying and settling down. Henry, Henry — stand up and meet the foe. The spirit of your dad is not dead in you." The boy was carried away by the torrent of the girl's words. "I'll do it," he said. "I'll pay my debts and enlist. Melia, you've brought me to my senses." "Oh, I am glad — so glad, Henry!" She flung her arms around him. "What's this you are glad about, little daughter?" asked Ambrose Nobbs. The old man had been dozing over the kitchen stove, and, hearing the excited voices in the parlor, had hobbled in to find out what it was all about. Melia ran to him and gave him a great hug. "Oh, daddy, daddy, Henry is going to volunteer for service in France !" The old man stared at his son. A flush of pride crept into his withered cheeks. His arms opened wide. "My boy," he said, his eyes filling. "I knew you were a chip of the old block." When men speak of the Canadian division in days to come they will remember with gratitude what the brave men of the Dominion did to save the world from the menace of kaiserism. In company with the joyous souls who crossed the seas to avenge the rape of Belgium, Henry Nobbs soon forgot his mollycoddle platitudes. The fighting spirit took hold of him, and he was a glutton for dangerous tasks. Comrades were shot down beside him, but he seemed to bear a charmed life. It was a miracle that he answered to roll call after each desperate assault on the enemies' lines — a miracle repeated again and again. Once in a communicating trench he overheard a man at the field telephone announce that a bloody battle was in progress on the hilltop half a mile away. "There's hell a-popping on Hill 404," said the man with the receivers at his ears. Half an hour later Henry Nobbs was in the thick of the hell that the man at the telephone had announced. Back and forth swept the battle lines. Men