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 whisper, to Di. Ellen whispered to her God who also was Di's God, so far as Di remembered any—the God of the little white clapboard church with the belfry exposed to the four winds, sweeping across the point of the Michigan peninsula. Di and Ellen had knelt, children there.

The God of the four winds and the earth and seas, of the stars and the sky, endured with Ellen. When the doubled red flags, with the black square centers, flattened in the gale from the coast guard staffs, when the radio flashed the storm warning and the hurricane signals were set and you knew that your father, with ten thousand tons of iron in his ship, was off the rocky capes of Keweenaw, a girl needed a God to pray to.

A garage mechanic's daughter matured into no such need; God might be only a sudden, flitting panic of midnight memory. Di had recovered herself. She arose and, whistling softly, she went to bed.

The morning completely confirmed Di's claim upon the Metten order. Mr. Lowry himself reported to Mr. Rountree, when Jay and Ellen were present:

"It's signed, sealed and delivered. Slengels start the machines in their addition to-day."

The converse of this was that Rountrees must shut down machines in part of their plant but no one said it. Mr. Rountree listened to Lowry.

"Entertaining beat us and nothing else; the personal angle. Sam Metten appreciates parties; and they certainly gave him plenty—good parties."

"Good?" Mr. Rountree put in.

"Exactly to Sam's taste. Phil had different tastes;