gh I think young Holt is not a bad egg.... Is his sister
the dark one who steps so straight and holds herself so well?"

"Yes, that sounds like Dorothy," replied Lane.

"She's about the only one I know who doesn't paint her face and I
never saw her at--well, never mind where. But the fact I mean makes
her stand out in this Middleville crowd like a light in the dark....
Lane, have you got on yet to the speed of the young people of this old
burg?"

"I'm getting on, to my sorrow," said Lane.

"Ahuh! You mean you're getting wise to your kid sister?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to say. What do you know, Pepper?"

"Now, son, wait. I'm coming to that, maybe. But I want to know some
things first. Is it true--what I hear about your health, bad shape,
you know--all cut up in the war? Worse than young Maynard?"

Pepper's hand was close on Lane's. He had forgotten his cigar. His
eyes were earnest.

"True?" laughed Lane, grimly. "Yes, it's true.... I won't last long,
Pepper, according to Doctor Bronson. That's why I want to make hay
while the sun shines."

"Ahuh!" Pepper cleared his throat. "Forgive this, boy.... Is it also
true you were engaged to marry that Helen Wrapp--and she threw you
down, while you were over there?"

"Yes, that's perfectly true," replied Lane, soberly.

"God, I guess maybe the soldier wasn't up against it!" ejaculated
Pepper, with a gesture of mingled awe and wonder and scorn.

"What was the soldier up against, Pepper?" queried Lane. "Frankly, I
don't know."

"Lane, the government jollied and forced the boys into the army,"
replied Pepper. "The country went wild with patriotism. The soldiers
were heroes. The women threw themselves away on anything inside a
uniform. Make the world safe for democracy--down the Hun--save France
and England--ideals, freedom, God's country, and all that! Well, the
first few soldiers to return from France got a grand reception, were
made heroes of. They were lucky to get back while the sentiment was
hot. But that didn't last.... Now, a year and more after the war,
where does the soldier get off? Lane, there're over six hundred
thousand of you disabled veterans, and for all I can read and find out
the government has done next to nothing. New York is full of begging
soldiers--on the streets. Think of it! And the poor devils are dying
everywhere. My God! think of what's in the mind of one crippled
soldier, let alone over half a million. I just have a dim idea of what
I'd felt. Y