Grand Central station which would carry him by way of Albany
to Toronto. Borne along by the crowd of home-going people he found
himself on Broadway facing Trinity Church. The dusk of evening was
already falling, and here and there the glow of electric lamps began
to pierce the gloom. On one occasion he had wandered, with his
grandfather, through Trinity Churchyard, and had read and been
thrilled by inscriptions on ancient tomb-stones marking the graves of
those who had served their country well in her early and struggling
years. Had it been still day he would not have been able to resist the
impulse to repeat that experience of his boyhood. As it was, he stood,
for many minutes, peering through the iron railing that separated the
living, hurrying throngs on the pavement from the narrow homes of
those who, more than a century before, had served their generation by
the will of God and had fallen on sleep.

As he turned his eyes away from the deepening shadows of the graveyard
it occurred to him that he would go to a hotel formerly frequented by
Colonel Butler, and get his dinner there before going to the train. It
would seem like old times, for it was there that they had stayed when
he had accompanied his grandfather on those trips of his boyhood. To
be sure the colonel would not be there, but delightful memories would
be stirred by revisiting the place, and he felt that those memories
would be most welcome this night.

Ever more and more, in these latter days, his thoughts had turned
toward his boyhood home. After six years of absence and estrangement
there was still no tenderer spot in his heart, save the one occupied
by his mother, than the spot in which reposed his memories of his
childhood's hero, the master of Bannerhall. He wished that there might
have been a reconciliation between them before he went to war. He
would have given much if only he could have seen the stern face with
its gray moustache and its piercing eyes, if he could have felt the
warm grasp of the hand, if he could have heard the firm and kindly
voice speak to him one word of farewell and Godspeed. He sighed as he
turned in at the subway kiosk and descended the steps to the platform
to join the pushing and the jostling crowd on its homeward way. At the
Grand Central Station he procured his railway tickets and checked his
baggage and then came out into Forty-second street. After a few
minutes of bewildered turning he located himself and made his wa