"I'm telling you, Mr. Spencer. He won't help to make those shells.
He's been acting queer for three or four days and this morning he
told your father."

Graham whistled.

"As if it made any difference," she went on irritably. "Some one
else will get his job. That's all. What does he care about the
Germans? He left them and came to America as soon as he could walk."

Graham sat down.

"Now let's get this," he said. "He won't make shells for the Allies
and so he's given up his position. All right. That's bad, but he's
a good workman. He'll not have any trouble getting another job. Now,
why are you crying?"

"I didn't think you'd want me to stay on."

Putting her fear into words brought back her long hours of terror.
She collapsed into the chair again and fell to unquiet sobbing.
Graham was disturbed.

"You're a queer girl," he said. "Why should that lose me my most
valued assistant?"

When she made no reply he got up and going over to her put a hand
on her shoulder. "Tell me that," he said.