ding
only a few yards away when he had sincerely hoped that at least several
miles separated them.

In reply to Billy's friendly "hello," his brother returned no answer.
Nevertheless Billy strolled quietly across the space between them,
taking a seat on the rocky cliff, apparently as cheerful and undisturbed
as if he considered himself a welcome interruption.

"Better not go in swimming from this cliff, Dan; this place looks pretty
unsafe. The waves are so violent you might be thrown against the rocks,"
he began, offering his entirely unsolicited advice in the most affable
manner.

As a matter of fact, upon most occasions, Dan Webster was rather
unusually sweet tempered. But at present, because of his own
disappointment over not being allowed to volunteer for some branch of
war service, and because of what he considered his brother's disloyal
opinions, the very sight of Billy enraged him.

"Billy Webster, I wonder if you are a coward about every mortal thing? I
suppose you understand that cowardice is what I believe lies at the back
of your pacifism. I suppose it is natural to wish to call an ugly fact
by a pretty name. Besides, it is a lot pleasanter and easier to talk
about the beauty and sacredness of peace and the rights of men than to
fight and die for them. But please don't trouble about me and run along
back to camp. I don't want to go into this subject with you again as I
came away largely to get rid of your society." Dan made an effort to
speak quietly.

"All right, I'll be off in a moment; don't wish to worry you," Billy
agreed, and, except for a slight flush which Dan did not observe, he
appeared unmoved. "Do you know I am glad you reopened this subject.
Ever since you spoke of the same thing the other day I have been
wondering if what you said was true and I am a pacifist because I am a
physical coward. Of course I know I am afraid of a lot of things that
don't frighten you, but I believe you are mistaken about this business,
Dan. If I were up against a stiff proposition I might still be afraid
and yet go through with it. My feeling about peace really has nothing to
do with the part I may some day be called upon to play in this war, a
pretty poor part at best I expect. I wish you would believe this if you
can. But good-by; I am off."

Then, before Dan could make any response, Billy moved away. Once out of
sight, he lay down upon the beach with his head propped on his slender
hands, keeping a watchf