m, Chad knew what the silent torture in Harry's heart must
be, for Harry could not bring himself, that day, even to visit his own
home. And now Morgan was coming, and they might soon be in a
death-fight, Harry with his own blood-brother and both with boyhood
friends.

"God grant that you two may never meet!"

That cry from General Dean was beating ceaselessly through Harry's
brain now, and he brought one hand down on the fence, hardly noticing
the drop of blood that oozed from the force of the blow.

"Oh, I wish I could get away from here!"

"I shall the first chance that comes," said Chad, and he lifted his
head sharply, staring down the street. A phaeton was coming slowly
toward them and in it were a negro servant and a girl in white. Harry
was leaning over the fence with his back toward the street, and Chad,
the blood rushing to his face, looked in silence, for the negro was
Snowball and the girl was Margaret. He saw her start and flush when she
saw him, her hands giving a little convulsive clutch at the reins; but
she came on, looking straight ahead. Chad's hand went unconsciously to
his cap, and when Harry rose, puzzled to see him bareheaded, the
phaeton stopped, and there was a half-broken cry:

"Harry!"

Cap still in hand, Chad strode away as the brother, with an answering
cry, sprang toward her.

. . . . .

When he came back, an hour later, at dusk, Harry was seated on the
portico, and the long silence between them was broken at last.

"She--they oughtn't to come to town at a time like this," said Chad,
roughly.

"I told her that," said Harry, "but it was useless. She will come and
go just as she pleases."

Harry rose and leaned for a moment against one of the big pillars, and
then he turned impulsively, and put one hand lightly on the other's
shoulder.

"I'm sorry, old man," he said, gently.

A pair of heels clicked suddenly together on the grass before them, and
an orderly stood at salute.

"General Ward's compliments, and will Lieutenant Buford and Lieutenant
Dean report to him at once?"

The two exchanged a swift glance, and the faces of both grew grave with
sudden apprehension.

Inside, the General looked worried, and his manner was rather sharp.

"Do you know General Dean?" he asked, looking at Harry.

"He is my father."

The General wheeled in his chair.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Well--um--I suppose one of you will be enough.
You can go."

When the door closed behind Harry, he