Part 29 (1/2)
”But your wife! How does she take it?”
Izon's face brightened.
”Oh, she's a Comrade! That's why I married her!”
”Good!” said Joe. ”Then I'll go ahead. I'll speak my mind!”
”Not for me, though,” cried Izon. ”I'll get something else.”
”Are you _sure_ of that?” asked Joe.
”Why not?”
”Are you sure,” Joe went on, ”that you won't be blacklisted?”
Izon stared at him.
”Well--I suppose--I will.”
”You'll have to leave the city, Jacob.”
”I can't. I'm right in my course of engineering. I can't go.”
”Well, we'll see!” Joe's voice softened. ”Now you go home and rest.
There's a good fellow. And everything will be all right!”
And he saw Izon out.
Joe began again to feel the tragic undercurrents of life, the first time since the dark days following the fire. He came back, and stood brooding, his homely face darkened with sorrow. Sally stood watching him, her pale face flus.h.i.+ng, her eyes darting sympathy and daring.
”Mr. Joe.”
”Yes, Miss Sally.”
”I want to do something.”
”What?”
”I want to go up to Marrin's to-morrow and get the girls out on strike.”
”What's that?”
”I've done it before; I can do it again.”
Joe laughed softly.
”Miss Sally, what would I do without you? I'd go stale on life, I think.”
She made an impulsive movement toward him.
”Mr. Joe.”