Hubert filled his mouth with string beans and stared over McKay's shoulder at an electric fan that whirred busily. Thirty-five dollars a week. Gee, that would be great now that he and Lillian knew how to live without splurging. And maybe there was a future to the job, too. Gosh, past forty and looking for a job with a future. Oh, well, many a man had built his fortune later than that. He'd take the job. He looked back at Arch. He was waiting to be convinced that Hubert needed that job. Arch wanted to know why he appeared prosperous and yet ran about asking for work. He couldn't tell him. There was too much to tell. It went back to old man Dietz who had bought the house and deeded it to Helen, who had warned Helen that Hubert wasn't much and had lived to say, "I told you so." It meant telling Arch that Helen had furnished a separate room for him and that he had to knock on her door before entering. Arch wouldn't understand. He couldn't because even Hubert couldn't. Helen was funny. Always had been. Once they had a big party. All the nicest people in town were there. Old man Dietz's friends and Helen's. When everybody had gone Helen slumped in a chair and cried. Hadn't come to bed at all that night. Just stayed downstairs pacing the floor and crying. No reason for it. It had been a good party, a successful party. Hubert had done card tricks for them and made fifty-cent pieces turn into pennies. No reason why Helen should have cried that night. All these things were somehow vaguely involved in what Arch wanted to know. And he couldn't tell him. Take the time Helen had bought Liberty Bonds and explained
