ught
as we walked up your front path how different everything is here; your
front yard is so clean, and there's so much room!"

She stopped again. She wished Mr. Bartlett would speak. He must guess
now all that she meant to convey to him; all she would ask of him.

But still he didn't answer. "The Eagle Man owned those houses," she said
at last.

"The Eagle Man?" Mr. Bartlett roused himself at last. "Who is the Eagle
Man?"

"Mr. Massey other people call him. The Eagle Man's my own private name
for him."

Graham knew his father was heavily interested in the Massey Steel Mills.
But he did not speak.

"You know, it's an awful fine feeling you get when you're doing
something for strangers," Suzanna pressed on. "Some way you don't feel
so excited when you're doing something for your very own family."

But she was doomed to disappointment. A continued silence still greeted
her words. "When people work for you isn't it as though you were their
father or their big brother and had to help them when they needed it?"
she asked, at length.

"Well, it's a new thought that you owe anything to the men who work for
you except their wages," said Mr. Bartlett at last.

"Why, Drusilla told me that everyone in the world has a little silver
chain running from his wrist to his next friend's wrist; it stretches
when you run--a fellowship link my father named it when I told him. And
the chain runs from my wrist to your wrist and from yours to every other
wrist in the world." She leaned closer, finishing earnestly. "And
Drusilla says if you break your chain you're really a slave."

"Very interesting," commented Mr. Bartlett.

"Yes, isn't it?" agreed Suzanna. She returned tenaciously to her
subject. "There are many homeless families who weren't welcome where
they had to go after the fire. Mary Holmes says her mother took in four
people and she says as long as they stay there'll have to be stews, for
in that way a pound of meat goes further, and Mary just hates stews."

"Well, what is your suggestion of a remedy, Suzanna?" asked Mr.
Bartlett. At which question, though put in words beyond her, Suzanna's
eyes brightened. She caught the sense unerringly and answered promptly.

"Why, I thought _you_ could do something. You have so much room." And
then the solution came, out of the sky as often answers came when you
didn't expect them. "Why, you could put tents up in your big yards for
the homeless people, till their own homes are buil