mic friends had held back behind college walls and thus
had never come out into the scrimmage that makes men; her own young
friends had not yet reached the time when they would buckle on their
armour and mount and talk lance in hand. Alan Howard and John Carr
were men who for a number of years had done man's work out in the open,
no doubt giving and receiving doughty blows. She considered Carr: he
had taken a monster outfit like Desert Valley and had made it over, in
his own image, like a god working. There were thousands of acres, she
had no idea how many. There were cattle and horses and mules; again
she thought of them only vaguely as countless. There were many men
obeying his orders, taking his daily wage. Carr had mastered a big job
and the job had made a masterly man of him. Then had come Alan Howard
with vision and determination and courage. He had expended almost his
last cent for a first payment upon the huge property; he was risking
all that he had gathered of the world's goods, he was out in the open
waging his battle like a young king claiming his heritage. Helen
clothed the act in the purple and gold of romance and thrilled at her
own picture.

'After all,' she discovered, 'there _are_ different kinds of men and I
never knew men like these two.'

Then, when she thought of Yellow Barbee, she sniffed. Barbee was about
her own age; she considered him a mere child and transparent.

She had said good night to her father, but now suddenly in a mood for
conversation went out into the hall and tiptoed to his door. When
there came no response to her gentle tapping she opened the door and
discovered only darkness and emptiness. She was mildly surprised;
distinctly she had heard him go into his room and close his door and
she had not heard him go out again.

There are men who, though they may live to be a hundred years old, keep
always the fresh heart of twenty. James Edward Longstreet was one of
them. He was a man of considerable erudition; he had always supposed
that the choice had lain entirely with him. He had always been amply
content with his existence, had genially considered that the whole of
the bright stream of life, gently deflected, had flowed through his
college halls and under his calm eyes. Now his youthful soul was in a
delightful turmoil; adventures had come to him, more adventures were
coming. Men like Barbee had given him the staunch hand of friendship;
they had welcomed him as