Hamilton.

Suddenly he saw a great truth. There is no difference between the
heights and the depths to those who are playing the game. It is only
those who sit in the grand-stand who see the difference. He ought to
have known that. The hard throws, the stinging tackles that used to
bring the grandstand to its feet, he never felt. The players knew
something that those upon the seats did not know, and thrilled with a
keener joy than the onlookers dreamed of.

If he could only be given another chance to do something for
Marjory--something that would bite into him, something that would twist
his body and maul him! If he could not face some serious physical
danger for her, then some great sacrifice--

Which was precisely the opportunity now offered. He had been
considering this sacrifice from his own personal point of view. He had
looked upon it as merely a personal punishment. But, after all, it was
for her. It was for her alone. Peter played no part in it whatever.
Neither did he himself. It was for her--for her!

Monte set his jaws. If, through Peter, he could bring her happiness,
then that was all the reward he could ask. Here was a man who loved
her, who would be good to her and fight hard for her. He was just the
sort of man he could trust her to. If he could see them settled in New
York, as Chic and Mrs. Chic were settled, see them start the brave
adventure, then he would have accomplished more than he had ever been
able to accomplish so far.

There was no need of thinking beyond that point. What became of his
life after that did not matter in the slightest. Wherever he was, he
would always know that she was where she belonged, and that was enough.
He must hold fast to that thought.

A knock at his door made him turn on his heels.

"Who's that?" he demanded.

"It's I--Noyes," came the answer. "Have you gone to bed yet?"

Monte swung open the door.

"Come in," he said.

"I thought I 'd like to talk with you, if it is n't too late,"
explained Peter nervously.

"On the contrary, you could n't have come more opportunely. I was just
thinking about you."

He led Peter to a chair.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable."

Monte lighted a cigarette, sank into a near-by chair, and waited.

"Beatrice said she told you," began Peter.

"She did," answered Monte; "I'd congratulate you if it would n't be so
manifestly superfluous."

"I did n't realize she was an old friend of yours."