eve that any
living soul is foredoomed to lose. The chance of a fight, no matter
how heavy the odds, includes the chance of victory. And even if things
do look a bit hopeless for a time, our orders are plain and straight;
'No surrender.'"

Lenox searched his face.

"Ever been through the fire yourself?"

Desmond nodded.

"I suppose moat of us have to go through hell once or twice," he said
quietly. "And I know how it feels to wish that some one would lock up
my revolver."

For answer Lenox got up and paced the room, head down; hands plunged
deep into trouser-pockets; lost, by now, to all sense of his
incongruous appearance.

The other watched him thoughtfully. Then his hand went to his
breast-pocket, and drew out a leather case. A man proffers tobacco to
a friend in trouble as instinctively as a woman proffers a caress.

"Have a cheroot?" he said, holding them out: and Lenox checked his
pacing.

"Thanks,--no. I've no taste for 'em. Never had."

"Better cultivate it, then. These are A1 Havannahs. A passing
extravagance. Good to begin upon. I'd drop pipes for a time, if I
were you. When it comes to breaking a habit, association is the devil.
And whatever happens, don't let this heredity bogey get the upper hand
of you. The taint you speak of is no more, as yet, than inherited
tendency: and this accident--if you believe in accident, I don't--gives
you the chance of killing the snake in the egg. Now light up, there's
a good chap; just to keep me company."

Lenox helped himself with a wry face; lit the cigar, and continued his
walk. The iron had bitten into his soul: and, at the moment, he was
incapable of gratitude. Bit by bit brain and body were adjusting
themselves to the new outlook, the new demands enforced upon them; and
the process was not a pleasant one.

Suddenly he drew up, and faced his companion.

"You can leave me out of the reckoning now for Chumba and Kajiar," he
said abruptly. "I'm in no mood for that sort of foolery. I'll stay
here and grind at this book of mine instead. You must excuse me to Mrs
Desmond; and tell her just as much of the truth as you think fit."

But before he had finished speaking, Desmond was on his feet, decision
in every line of him.

"Not if I know it, my dear fellow! You won't get a stroke of work done
just at present; and 'that sort of foolery,' as you call it, will do
you all the good in the world. Your best chance is to get right
outside your