398
T h e K i n g ’ s B u s i n e s s
September 1932
“ No, it has not,” she finally replied.' “ I feel, like every other who has been so fortunate as to grow up in this great, broad United States of ours, that we are invincible. We cannot fail! We’re too—too wonderful!” Uncle Alan laughed a little and patted the girlish hand. He liked her for being patriotic. Indeed, he had just been thinking that the nation was sadly in need of genuine patriots. “ How are we, as a country, in danger ?” Connie finally asked. “ We are beseiged by a dangerous foe,” he replied. “W.e’re not in a state of war,” Constance remarked ten tatively. “ This enemy is inside the fort, and it’s worse than disease germs, if we may believe Nikolai—and I feel sure we may. And incidentally, he hurried over here on this mission.” “ Do you mean propaganda from Russia?” ' “Worse than propaganda! Regular organized Com munism !” “ Right here?” “ Right among us—they tell me it’s working actively in twelve of our city schools already.” “ Are they sure? I think children— ” “ My dear Connie, the organized Children of the Young Pioneers, who are from eight to fifteen years of age, are some of the most active and dangerous of the communist workers.” “ I don’t see how they can be, actually.” “ They can distribute literature, for one thing, that adults would be arrested for scattering around. There’s a lot more that I have not time to tell you now. Only this will interest you. The youth of your age make up the Young Communist League and are busy joining as many o f our national defense organizations as they can get into— partly to learn our military art, and partly to spread dis satisfaction with our government. Nikolai vouches for this.” “ Who is back of it all ?” “ Russia’s executive of the central communist body of Soviet Russia. There are about nine men in it.” “ It—it seems bizarre and sensational.” - “ Unfortunately, the whole world has become ‘bizarre and sensational.’ ‘This know, also, that in the last days perilous times shall come.’ ” “ This is the lawlessness of which Paul warns us, isn’t it ? And Peter, too, says they will despise government and speak evil of dignities.” “ Yes.” “Where is Nikolai?” “ In New York now. Some interested people got in touch with him. It seems that a surprisingly large share of the economic depression hinges on some sort of propa ganda. Nikolai is sure it is communistic, more especially the recent runs on different banks throughout the country. O f course, back of it all—back of all human insidiousness — is the great enemy of souls.” Uncle Alan sighed a little. Constance patted his shoul der and smiled up at him. “ We’re safe in Christ,” she said with happy faith. “ Yes, thank God.” “ And the Lord can deal with the Soviet just as He did with the Egyptians— do you remember? Oh, I wish our nation would follow Him, and the Red Sea would open wide for us to pass through, and those who hate our God would be swept forever away!” * * * * * Off to March Field, Constance in Althea’s car with the
adoring Pauline, who was as devoted to Connie as ever, between them! Uncle Alan and Elise, and Lawrence and Beatrice, drove the honorable and ancient touring car that Uncle Alan’s household had used since time began, Little Sister believed. Finally, in the glistening, splendid Snowdon motors of every sort of make and dimension, went all the members of the Thin Red Line who were able. Aunt Margot actually left the Violet Vale Drive house, and Donald Donaldson came with her. “ Is Pansy’s aviator going to do flying stunts?” Elise inquired curiously. But Uncle Alan smiled, shook his head, and refused to talk. Two hours’ ride through the golden California coun try, where the gold-colored hills and fields are so vivid and so hauntingly different from other summery lands! “ I feel as if something nice were going to happen,” Little Sister said softly. “ There is,” Uncle Alan chuckled. “ What are all the big doings on the field?” exclaimed Douglas Snowdon as they arrived. People appeared to have collected from everywhere and nowhere around a Lockheed plane that had landed. Some one had just made a cross-country nonstop flight from New York. Before arriving in this country, a by stander said, the plane had made a spectacular water-hop from Ireland to Harbor Grace. Constance gazed about her as if in a dream. Wings everywhere, whirring and swooping, and with them the strange whizzing sound that accompanies flying! Wings— what was it the Princeling had written about eagles’ wings ? Oh, he longed to be borne to freedom where the great American eagles’ wings protected and yet liberated—at least that was his idea. “ Nikolai! Has Nikolai come?” questioned Eleanor Gorham excitedly. But it was not Nikolai. At this instant, Constance gave a cry of amazed recog nition. Some one was walking toward her across the field. It was—and yet it was not the Princeling. This young man’s curly hair lay in moist jet black rings upon a fore head that was unquestionably Franz Josef’s, but the Prince’s hair had most certainly been yellow. Franz Josef’s honest blue eyes looked out at her from a swarthy, dark-skinned countenance—manifestly Sicilian! Some woman near by said so. But n o ! As her fascinated gaze drew his eyes to hers, he gave a happy little shout that was all Franz Josef’s. “ Constance! It is I !” helmet in hand, the dews of heaven still upon his leather jacket, he kissed her fingers in the old European.way, before them all. “ Quick! Before the cameras get to clicking!” mur mured Douglas Snowdon, deeply sympathetic but practical. They were in the back of Douglas’ own car with its mighty engine carrying them homeward—actually! Con stance and the Princeling! “ Nearly two years,” he said. “ I’m just a poor mechanic, but I’ll get along. Anyway the king-business is out. And airplanes are in. And:—and my mother sent you this—she knows—” “ This” was a most exquisite intaglio. The gem, cut out long ago by a master hand, flashed its deep blush of crimson from a marvelous twist of gold that somehow fit ted Constance’ finger. She inspected it gravely. “ Nearly, if not quite,” she assented. “ And a long two years at that!” “ V ery !”
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