You're half
asleep now. This afternoon we shall face up to our job."

His father's voice was quietly authoritative and Barry yielded.

"All right, dad. I'll do as you say, and this afternoon--well, we'll
see."

At the noonday meal they were conscious of a mutual restraint. For the
first time in their lives they were not opening to each other their
innermost souls. The experience was as distressing as it was unusual.
The father, as if in dread of silence, was obviously exerting himself
to keep a stream of talk flowing. Barry was listening with a face very
grave and very unlike the bright and buoyant face he usually carried.
They avoided each other's eyes, and paid little heed to their food.

At length Barry pushed back his chair.

"Will you excuse me, dad," he said. "I think I shall step out a moment
into the garden."

"Do, Barry," said his father, in obvious relief. "You are fagged out, my
boy."

"Thanks, dad. I am a bit played out."

"And take it easy this afternoon, Barry. To-night you will tell me about
your trip, and--and--we'll have a talk."

"Good old dad!" said Barry. "You do understand a chap. See you later,
then," he called back as he passed through the door.

His father sat gazing before him for some moments with a deep shadow on
his face.

"There is something wrong with that boy," he said to himself. "I wish I
knew what it was."

He set his house in order, moving heavily as if a sudden weight of years
had fallen upon his shoulders, and took his way slowly down the street.

"I wonder what it is," he mused, refusing to give form to a horrible
thought that hovered like a spectre about the windows of his soul.

The first glance at his son's face at the time of the evening meal made
his heart sing within him.

"He's all right again! He's all right!" he said to himself jubilantly.

"Hello, dad," cried Barry, as his father entered the room. "Supper's
just ready. How do you feel, eh?"

"Better, my boy--first rate, I mean. I'm properly hungry. You're rested,
I can see."

"I'm all right, dad! I'm all right!" cried Barry, in his old cheery way.
"Dad, I want to apologise to you. I wasn't myself to-day, but now I'm
all right again. Dad, I've joined up. I'm a soldier now," he said with a
smile on his face, but with anxious eyes turned on his father.

"Joined up!" echoed his father. "Barry, you have enlisted! Thank God, my
boy. I feared--I thought--No, damned if I did!" he added, with such
an unusu