could be done, but you have done it. Still, now and then
I remember, and I know that there will be long years after you have
all gone back to that beloved Australia of yours when there will be
nothing to keep me from realizing that I am crippled and a hunchback.
To-night I have the one chance of my life of living up to the
traditions of O'Neills who were fighting men; so if, by good luck, I
manage to wing a German or two, and then get in the way of an odd
bullet myself, you mustn't grudge my finishing so much more pleasantly
than I had ever hoped to do.

"If I do fall, I am leaving you that place of mine in Surrey. I have
hardly any one belonging to me, and they have all more money than is
good for them. The family estates are entailed, but this is mine to
do as I please with. I know you don't need it, but it will be a home
for you and your father while Jim and Wally are fighting, if you care
for it. And perhaps you will make some use of it that will interest
you. I liked the place, as well as I could like any place outside
Ireland; and if I can look back--and I am very sure that I shall be
able to look back--I shall like to see you all there--you people who
brought the sun and light and laughter of Australia into the grey
shadows of my life--who never seemed to see that I was different from
other men.

"Well, good-bye--and God keep you happy, little mate.

"Your friend,
"John O'Neill."

*****

Jim folded the letter and put it back in his pocket, and there was a
long silence. Each boy was seeing again a strip of Irish beach where
a brave man had died proudly.

"Different!" Wall said, at last, with a catch in his voice. "He
wasn't different--at least, only in being a jolly sight better than
most fellows."

Jim nodded.

"Well, he had his fight, and he did his bit, and, seeing how he felt
about things, I'm glad for his sake that he went out," he said. "Only
I'm sorry for us, because it was a pretty big thing to be friends with
a man like that. Anyhow, we won't forget him. We wouldn't even
without this astonishing legacy of Norah's."

"Have you any particulars about it?" Wally asked.

"Dad got a letter from O'Neill too--both were sent to his lawyers; he
must have posted them himself that evening in Carrignarone. Dad's was
only business. The place is really left to him, in trust for Norah,
until she comes of age; th