All Men Fear Me by Donis Casey Page A

here. The children have made so many friends at school. Nathan will be starting fifth grade next year. I can hardly believe it! He’s been selling more Liberty Stamps to customers here in the store than I have! Oh, I love the West! So much more opportunity than back home!”
    â€œWhere did you move in from?”
    â€œFrom Chicago. Such a big town, you wouldn’t believe. My wife misses her family, of course, but we wouldn’t go back to all that noise and crowds.”
    â€œI’m glad you came out, Mr. Khouri. Thank you for the nice piece of meat.”
    ***
    Old Nick treated himself to a sundae at Williams’ Drug Store downtown, then took a leisurely stroll up and down the main thoroughfare, looking into the shop windows and killing time until dark. He had big plans for the evening, for he figured that Rose’s place would be hopping at around midnight. And her customers were likely to be just the kind of men who could be tempted to avail themselves of Nick’s special talents.
    But it was a long while until midnight, so Nick used the time to look around and see if any other opportunities presented themselves. The street was busy, and it wasn’t hard for him to lose himself in the crowd. Most of the housewives, businessmen, and overalls-clad farmers that he passed were plain, decent people who held no interest for him. After an hour or so he was ready to find someplace to hole up and wait for dark. Until a round, natty man in a black suit came out of a door marked “W.E. Clare Insurance Agency, Upstairs.” The face was pinched and anxious, sporting hectic red cheeks. He clutched a sheaf of papers in his hand. The round man kept his eyes on the sidewalk as he hurried up the street, thinking his own thoughts, until he came upon Khouri’s market and looked up sharply. He stood outside for a moment, carefully inspecting the signs Khouri had posted in his window. The price of a peck of green beans, a pound of butter, quart of sweet cream.
    The round man’s mouth grew more pursed by the second as he scanned the window. Finally he drew himself up and marched inside, followed by a big-eyed, buck-toothed little boy who had been playing on the sidewalk.
    Old Nick sucked in a satisfied breath and let it out. It looked like he would have plenty to keep himself amused this afternoon.

Chapter Twelve
    â€œI am glad to join you in the service of food conservation for our Nation and I hereby accept membership in the United States Food Administration, pledging myself to carry out the directions and advice of the Food Administration in my home, in so far as my circumstances permit.”
    â€”Housewife’s pledge card,
United States Food Administration, 1917
    Mr. Khouri and Alafair turned to see who had entered the store. Alafair smiled, but Mr. Khouri drooped when he recognized the plump, well-dressed man steaming toward them. Chase Kemp had followed the man in, copying his hurried stride and determined expression with such verve that Alafair had some trouble keeping a straight face. Grace had no such compunction and shrieked out a laugh. Alafair put her down and gave her a shove toward the door before the girl could say something undiplomatic. “You children wait for me outside. And stay on the sidewalk.” Her tone dissuaded the two children from trying to argue. They were gone in a flash.
    â€œGood day, Mr. Clover,” Khouri said. His greeting wasn’t as enthusiastic as it might have been.
    Emmanuel Clover nodded a businesslike greeting. “Mr. Khouri, Mrs. Tucker.”
    Khouri crossed his arms. “What can I do for you?”
    Alafair sensed a frisson of ill-will between the two men, which surprised her. She had always found both Mr. Clover and Mr. Khouri to be pleasant men.
    â€œI notice that you haven’t posted the Food Administration’s list of austerity days,” Clover said.
    Khouri shot a thumb over his left shoulder. “There it is