ow? Good! He'll be uniformed there?
Splendid! Don't forget, if you should see my daughter! Well, goodbye and
good luck, Barrow; yours is a noble work, and God husband you!"

"Amen," the Colonel whispered.

Mr. Strong, hanging up the receiver, swung about enthusiastically.

"Jeb," he cried, "hustle! Barrow says bring only a suitcase and toilet
articles; report to his hospital as soon as your train lands you, and be
fitted out. I'll mail this original application to the proper place with
a notation that you've left. You'll take the fast express this
afternoon, reach him about nine-thirty, and sail some time after
midnight. That's moving some!" he slapped his thigh. "Now hurry home and
tell the little aunts. Roger and I will have money at the train for you.
Oh, by the way," he arose and followed Jeb who was about to pass out, "I
wouldn't let on about dangers, understand? Just pretend there aren't
any; for if those dear ladies knew you were going into a branch of
service where the death toll is higher than any place else in the army,
they'd be ill with worrying."

Jeb leaned against the door-jamb and opened his lips wide for breath.
His throat felt parched, his heart was beating like the roll-call on a
drum. But Mr. Strong, moved greatly by the moment, laid a hand on his
shoulder, adding:

"I haven't said as much as I want; I'm not going to, either. You know I
want to be proud of you, and I'll be watching for news with an interest
akin to that which I feel for Marian. You're going away to play a mighty
big game, boy, wherein Humanity is trumps and Patriotism, Righteousness
and Service are the other three aces. Yet even if you hold all these,
you may still lose unless you possess one more magic card: Self-respect.
We all owe to our soul a certain measure of self-respect, Jeb. It is a
gentleman's personal debt of honor to himself, demanding payment before
every other obligation, and is satisfied only when we face each of
life's crises with steel-tipped, crystal courage. Think of this often;
carry it with you everywhere; it is the last and best thing I can give
you. Now hustle!" he gave him an affectionate push. "We'll be at the
depot waiting."

Job went down the stairs in a storm of mental hysteria. His physical
senses seemed to be numb, but the brain more than made up for this. It
was writhing in an agony of fear, a chaos of racing tortures; yet in
their midst one thing stood aloof with the firmness of rock. This was