al Library in Tokio; the great
Corn Exchange covering a city block; the superb Art Museum crowning
the highest hill in the Park; the beautiful chateau of the millionaire
surrounded by thousands of acres of virgin forest; the spacious
warehouses on the water front, and many others.

With the passing of the flagons an electric current of good fellowship
flashed around the circle. Stories that would have been received with
but a bare smile at the club were here greeted with shouts of laughter.
Bon-mots, skits, puns and squibs mouldy with age or threadbare with use,
were told with a new gusto and welcomed with delight.

Suddenly, and without any apparent reason, these burst forth a roar
like that of a great orchestra with every instrument played at its
loudest--rounds of applause from kettle-drums, trombones and big horns;
screams of laughter from piccolos, clarionettes and flutes, buzzings of
subdued talk by groups of bass viols and the lesser strings, the whole
broken by the ringing notes of a song that soared for an instant clear
of the din, only to be overtaken and drowned in the mighty shout of
approval. This was followed by a stampede from the table; the banners
were caught up with a mighty shout and carried around the room; Morris,
boy for the moment, springing to his feet and joining in the uproar.

The only guest who kept his chair, except Peter and myself, was a young
fellow two seats away, whose eyes, brilliant with excitement, followed
the merrymaking, but who seemed too much abashed, or too ill at ease,
to join in the fun. I had noticed how quiet he was and wondered at the
cause. Peter had also been watching the boy and had said to me that he
had a good face and was evidently from out of town.

"Why don't you get up?" Peter called to him at last. "Up with you, my
lad. This is one of the times when every one of you young fellows should
be on your feet." He would have grabbed a banner himself had any one
given him the slightest encouragement.

"I would, sir, but I'm out of it," said the young man with a deferential
bow, moving to the empty seat next to Peter. He too had been glancing at
Peter from time to time.

"Aren't you with Mr. Morris?"

"No, I wish I were. I came with my friend, Garry Minott, that young
fellow carrying the banner with 'Corn Exchange' marked on it."

"And may I ask, then, what you do?" continued Peter.

The young fellow looked into the older man's kindly eyes--something in
their ex