larly hereafter. Indiman
looked at me, and we trooped out with the rest--que voulez-vous? One
must always dine.

We found a small table; the napery and glass were exquisite, the
cuisine and service perfect. We surrendered ourselves to the
allurements of the hour. I was conscious of an unusual lightness and
exhilaration of spirit; Indiman's eyes were sparkling with unwonted
brilliancy. I raised my champagne-glass: "To the Utinam Club," I said,
with enthusiasm, and rather more loudly than I had intended. The toast
was at once re-echoed from every mouth, and a burst of laughter
followed.

A late-comer entered and looked about the room somewhat uncertainly,
for all the tables had been taken. It was Mr. Colman Hoyt. He saw us
and smiled genially. "We have room here," called out Indiman, and he
joined us.

"I am fortunate as ever," he said, as he took his seat. "New friends,
old wine; and our chef's sauce tartare is incomparable to-night. What
more can the heart of man desire?"

"Not even the North Pole?" said Indiman.

"Ah, the Pole! Bah! I can put my hand on it when I want it. Did I tell
you that I start to-morrow on my fifth expedition? Success is certain.
Will you honor me by drinking to it?" We drank solemnly.

"I thought you were wearing a dark-green scarf," I interrupted,
somewhat irrelevantly, speaking to Indiman.

"I am," he replied.

"It is red," I insisted. "Not green at all."

"Nonsense!" said Indiman, and thereupon Mr. Colman Hoyt burst into a
cackle of laughter.

"Complementary colors," he said. "All the blue, green, and yellow rays
are excluded from this kindly light invented by our friend Magnus;
consequently there can be no sensation of those colors within our
vision."

"A curious fancy," said Indiman.

"Say rather the most glorious and beneficent of discoveries," retorted
Mr. Hoyt. "All life and vigor and power of achievement are dependent
upon the red end of the spectrum. Incapacity, failure, disease,
death-they are generated by the violet rays alone; eliminate them, and
the problem of existence is solved. All hail to thee, O Magnus, and to
thy incomparable genius! Light of lights! All hail!"

A score of voices took up the cry, and I know that I shouted with the
rest. Then I felt Indiman's hand upon my arm; my sober senses partially
returned. "Keep hold of yourself," he whispered, and the warning came
in time, I pushed away my wineglass, and thereafter ate only enough of
the exquisitely s