to their small son that she bought them because they were a good investment. Hubert Sr. had added, "Yes, and it helps whip the God-damned Germans." Helen had said, "You ignoramus, your son is a God-damned German on my side." And that night he had heard her explain to the boy that the German soldiers must be beaten for the sake of world prosperity but that they were just fellows like Uncle Rudolph. Great stuff to tell a kid, and it turned the kid against his father, too.
Arch was still waiting.
Maybe he could say instead that he loved another woman and explain in part the complications that arose therefrom. But Arch McKay was an ardent churchman and a good Rotarian.
"Hell, no. I'm not broke," Hubert said. "Just bored with being idle."
"That's what I figured," Arch returned.
They talked of other things then. Of politics, of real estate, of tailors, and of business. Of baseball, of weather, of cars, and of aviation. Finally Arch said that he had to be getting back to work.
"Think I'll go to the ball game," Hubert said. "Oh, gee, I can't. I'm out without a red cent and no check-book."
Arch dug his hand in his pocket and brought out a twenty-dollar bill.
"Wait till I pay the check," he said. "I'll let you have a couple of dollars. Five do?"
"Make it ten, will you? I may have dinner in New York."
Arch said, "I'll give you fifteen if you want it."
