"And I want you to dinner when she does, and bring along a bunch of your young bucks from the Barracks.

I don't know all their names, but just the same extend the invitation as though from me personally.

I haven't cultivated the social side much,--no time, but see to it that the girl enjoys herself.
Fresh from the States and London, and she's liable to feel lonesome.
You understand." Jacob Welse closed the door, tilted his chair back, and cocked his feet on the guard-rail of the stove.

For one half-minute a girlish vision wavered in the shimmering air above the stove, then merged into a woman of fair Saxon type.
The door opened.

"Mr.Welse, Mr.Foster sent me to find out if he is to go on filling signed warehouse orders ?" "Certainly, Mr.Smith.