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these tragedies. A violent and dreadful world to be living in, and the rich and mighty ones

shuddered and lost their sleep.

For a full generation Robbie Budd's irregular family had lived on the ample estate of

Bienvenu and the idea of danger had rarely crossed their minds, even in wartime. But now it was

hard to think about anything else, especially for the ladies. Fanny Barnes imagined kidnapers

crouching behind every bush, and whenever the wind made the shutters creak, which

happened frequently on the Cote d'Azur, she sat up and reached out to the baby's bed, which

had been moved to her own room. Unthinkable to go on living in a one-story building, with

windows open, protected only by screens which could be cut with a pocket-knife. Fanny wanted

to take her tiny namesake to Shore Acres and keep her in a fifth-story room, beyond reach of

any ladders. But Beauty said: "What about fire?" The two grandmothers were close to their

first quarrel.

Lanny cabled his father, inquiring about Bub Smith, most dependable of bodyguards and

confidential agents. He was working for the company in Newcastle, but could be spared, and

Robbie sent him by the first steamer. So every night the grounds of Bienvenu would be

patrolled by an ex-cowboy from Texas who could throw a silver dollar into the air and hit it

with a Budd automatic. Bub had been all over France, doing one or another kind of secret

work for the head salesman of Budd Gunmakers, so he knew the language of the people. He

hired a couple of ex-poilus to serve as daytime guards, and from that time on the precious mite

of life which was to inherit the Barnes fortune was seldom out of sight of an armed man.

Lanny wasn't sure if it was a good idea, for of course all the Cap knew what these men were

there for, and it served as much to advertise the baby as to protect her. But no use telling that

to the ladies!

Bub came by way of Paris, so as to consult with Lanny and Irma. He had always been a pal of

Robbie's son, and now they had a confidential talk, in the course of which Bub revealed the fact

that he had become a Socialist. A great surprise to the younger man, for Bub's jobs had been

among the most hardboiled, and Bub himself, with his broken nose and cold steely eyes, didn't

bear the appearance of an idealist. But he had really read the papers and the books and knew

what he was talking about, and of course that was gratifying to the young employer. The man

went down to the Cap and began attending the Socialist Sunday school in his free time,

becoming quite a pal of the devoted young Spaniard, Raoul Palma.

That went on for a year or more before Lanny discovered what it was all about. The bright

idea had sprung in the head of Robbie Budd—to whom anarchists, Communists, and

kidnapers were all birds of a feather. Robbie had told Bub that this would be a quick and easy

way to get in touch with the underworld of the Midi; so before stepping onto the steamer,

Bub had got himself a load of Red literature, and all the way across had been boning up as if

for a college entrance examination. He had "passed" with Lanny, and then with Raoul and the

other comrades, who naturally had no suspicions of anybody coming from Bienvenu. It was

somewhat awkward, because Bub was also maintaining relations with the French police; but

Lanny didn't know just what to do about it. It was one more consequence of trying to live in

the camps of two rival armies getting ready for battle.

IV

Hearing and thinking so much about the Lindbergh case had had an effect upon Irma's

maternal impulses; she decided that she couldn't do any more traveling without having at least

a glimpse of Baby. She proposed that they hop into the car and run down to Bienvenu—the

weather was hot there, and they could have a swim, also. The young Robins hadn't seen

Baby for more than a year; so come along! Hansi had been motored to Paris by Bess, in her

car; now the couples "hopped" into two cars, and that evening were in Bienvenu, with Irma

standing by the bedside of her sleeping darling, making little moaning sounds of rapture and

hardly able to keep from waking the child.

The next two days she had a debauch of mother emotions, crowding everything into a short

time. She didn't want anybody else to touch the baby; she washed her, dressed her, fed her,

played with her, walked with her, talked to her, exclaimed over every baby word she managed to

utter. It must have been bewildering to a twenty-seven-month child, this sudden irruption into

her well-ordered life; but she took it serenely, and Miss Severne permitted some rules to be

suspended for a brief period.

Lanny had another talk with Bub Smith, keeper of the queen's treasure and sudden convert

to the cause of social justice. Bub reported on his experiences at the school, and expressed his

appreciation of the work being done there; a group of genuine idealists, he said, and it was a

source of hope for the future. Lanny found it a source of hope that an ex-cowboy and

company guard should have seen the light and acknowledged his solidarity with the workers.

Also Bub told about conditions in Newcastle, where some kind of social change seemed

impossible to postpone. There wasn't enough activity in those great mills to pay for the taxes

and upkeep, and there was actual hunger among the workers. The people had mortgaged their

homes, sold their cars, pawned their belongings; families had moved together to save rent; half a

dozen people lived on the earnings of a single employed person. So many New Englanders were

proud and wouldn't ask for charity; they just withdrew into a corner and starved. Impossible

not to be moved by such distress, or to realize that something must be done to get that great

manufacturing plant to work again.

Bub Smith had always been close to Robbie Budd, and so this change of mind appeared

important. There was no secret about it, the man declared; he had told Mr. Robert how he felt,

and Mr. Robert had said it would make no difference. Lanny thought that, too, was important;

for some fifteen years or so he had been hoping that his father would see the light, and now

apparently it was beginning to dawn. In a letter to Robbie he expressed his gratification; and

Robbie must have had a smile!

V

The young people had their promised swim, diving off the rocks into that warm blue

Mediterranean water. Afterward they sat on the shore and Bub lugged a couple of heavy boxes

from the car, one containing Budd automatics and other weapons, the other containing several

hundred rounds of ammunition. Bub had brought a liberal supply from Newcastle, enough to

stave off a siege by all the bandits in France. He said the family ought to keep in practice, for

they never knew when there might be an uprising of the Fascists or Nazis, and "we comrades"

would be the first victims. He was shocked to learn that neither Hansi nor Freddi had ever

fired a gun in his life, and hadn't thought of the possible need. The ex-guard wanted to

know, suppose their revolution went wrong and the other side appeared to be coming out

on top?

He showed them what he would propose to do about it. He threw a corked bottle far out

into the water, and then popped off the cork with one shot from an army service revolver. He

threw out a block of wood and fired eight shots from a Budd .32 automatic, all in one quick

whir, and not one of the shots struck the water; Bub admitted that that took a lot of practice,

because the block jumped with every hit, and you had to know how far it would jump in a