rom without, ascended quickly,
and Crailey became pleasantly conscious that two strong hands had lifted
him to his feet; and, presently, that he was being borne aloft upon
the new-comer's back. It seemed quite a journey, yet the motion was
soothing, so he made no effort to open his eyes, until he found himself
gently deposited upon the couch in his own chamber, when he smiled
amiably, and, looking up, discovered his partner standing over him.

Tom was very pale and there were deep, violet scrawls beneath his eyes.
For once in his life he had come home later than Crailey.

"First time, you know," said Crailey, with difficulty. "You'll admit
first time completely incapable? Often needed guiding hand, but
never--quite--before."

"Yes," said Tom, quietly, "it is the first time I ever saw you quite
finished."

"Think I must be growing old and constitution refuses bear it.
Disgraceful to be seen in condition, yet celebration justified. H'rah
for the news!" He waved his hand wildly. "Old red, white, and blue!
American eagle now kindly proceed to scream! Starspangled banner intends
streaming to all the trade winds! Sea to sea! Glorious victories on
political thieving exhibition--no, expedition! Everybody not responsible
for the trouble to go and get himself patriotically killed!"

"What do you mean?"

"Water!" said the other, feebly. Tom brought the pitcher, and Crailey,
setting his hot lips to it, drank long and deeply; then, with his
friend's assistance, he tied a heavily moistened towel round his head.
"All right very soon and sober again," he muttered, and lay back upon
the pillow with eyes tightly closed in an intense effort to concentrate
his will. When he opened them again, four or five minutes later, they
had marvellously cleared and his look was self-contained and sane.

"Haven't you heard the news?" He spoke much more easily now. "It came at
midnight to the Journal."

"No; I've been walking in the country."

"The Mexicans crossed the Rio Grande on the twenty-sixth of last month,
captured Captain Thornton and murdered Colonel Crook. That means war is
certain."

"It has been certain for a long time," said Tom. "Polk has forced it
from the first."

"Then it's a devil of a pity he can't be the only man to die!"

"Have they called for volunteers?" asked Tom, going toward the door.

"No; but if the news is true, they will."

"Yes," said Tom; and as he reached the hallway he paused. "Can I help
you to undre