he said--nothing. Perhaps she could not. The
flood-gate of an awful torrent of pent-up, bravely controlled grief may
be opened in the utterance of that word "good-bye."

Laurence Stanninghame seemed to walk blindly, staggering in the strong
sunlight. Was it the midday heat, or the strong glare? The
ever-monotonous beat of the Crown Reef stamps seemed to hammer within
his brain, which seethed and swirled with the recollection of that last
long kiss. He would not look back. Impervious to the furnace-like heat,
he stepped out over the veldt at a pace which, by the time he reached
the corner of the Wemmer property, caused him to look up wonderingly,
that he should already be entering the town.

"Oh, there you are, Stanninghame," sung out a voice, whose owner nearly
cannoned into him. Laurence looked up.

"Here I am, as you say, Holmes," he answered, quite coolly and
unconcernedly. "But where are you bound for, and what's the excitement,
anyway?"

"Why, I thought I'd see if I could meet you. Hazon said you had gone
down to Booyseus this morning. What do you think? I've got round him,
and I'm going with you."

Laurence stared, then looked grave.

"Going with us, eh? I say, youngster, have you made your will?"

"Haven't got anything to leave. But, Stanninghame, I'm awfully obliged
to you, old fellow. It's all through you I've got round the old man."

"Have you any sort of idea what our program is?"

"None. And I don't care."

Laurence whistled.

"See here, Holmes," he said, "this thing has got to be looked into. In
fact, it can't go on."

"Yes it can, and it shall. Don't be a beast, now, Stanninghame. I'd go
anywhere with you two fellows, and I'm dead off this waiting for a boom
that never comes. I shall be as stony broke as the rest of them if I
hold on any longer. So I'm going to realize at a loss, and go with you.
Come along, now, to Phillips' bar and we'll split a bottle of cham. to
the undertaking."

"You don't need to buzz to that extent, Holmes. I hate 'gooseberry.'
'John Walker' is good enough for me."

They reached Phillips', and found that historic bar far from empty; and
young Holmes, who was full of exhilaration over the prospects of this
trip, was insisting that many should drink success thereto. Laurence,
silent amid the racket of voices, was curiously watching him. This
joyous-hearted youngster, would he ever come to look back upon life as a
thing that had far better have never been lived? An