make a man feel that you know! But the
hellish smoke-hunger--you don't know anything of that."

"It's a part of the same hellish selfishness which eats the vitals out
of everything. Get out of yourself, get into the lives of others, and
the smoke-hunger will quit you. You could n't go down where you 've
been and made a beast of yourself if you cared more about others than
yourself. The power that drove you down there would n't mean anything
if a stronger power held you back. The point is, Arsdale, the point
is, that all by himself a man is n't worth much. He does n't count.
Either he dries up or he rots."

"That's true! That's true!" answered Arsdale. "And I 've rotted. If
only I had found you a year ago!"

"A year ago is dead and buried. Let it alone. Think of the live
things; think of the Now! There 's a big, strong world all around you,
pulsating with life; there 's sunshine in the morning and stars at
night--and they are alive; there are flowers, and birds, and
grasses--all alive; there are live men and women, live questions, and
there is your sister. The world would be alive--would be worth while
if you had only her. She 's a world in herself."

"You are right. Man, how you know!"

"Can't you see it yourself? Can't you feel the thrill of it all?"

"Yes," answered Arsdale, his eyes as alive as Donaldson's, "I see. I
feel. And if I had your strength--"

"You have the strength! You have everything you need in just your
beating heart and the days ahead of you. Buck up to it!--Go and meet
life half-way. Throw yourself at life! The trouble with you and me is
that we stand still, all curled up in ourselves as in a chrysalis. You
must give yourself room, you must break free from your own selfish
conceit, you must reach a point where you don't give a damn about
yourself! Do you hear--where all the worrying you do is about others?
Then don't worry."

Arsdale was breathing through his nostrils, his lips closed.

"It's going to be a hard fight," he said. "It 's going to be a hard
fight, but you make me feel as though I could do it."

"A hard fight," cried Donaldson. "Why, man, I 'd strip myself down to
you--I 'd go back to where you stand to-day for the fighting chance you
have."

"You'd--what?"

Donaldson caught his breath. For a moment he was silent, staring at
the eager life upon the street. Then he turned again to Arsdale.

"I 'd like to swap places with you--that's all," he sai