s and shot casual glances after them as they
passed. Handsome pleasure cars glided about; there was a smell of new
flowers in all the air.

"What do you make of it, mate?" said Grant at last.

Linder pulled slowly on his cigarette. Even his training as a sergeant
had not made him ready of speech, but when he spoke it was, as ever, to
the point.

"It's all so unnecessary," he commented at length.

"That's the way it gets me, too. So unnecessary. You see, when you
get down to fundamentals there are only two things necessary--food
and shelter. Everything else may be described as trimmings. We've
been dealing with fundamentals so long---mighty bare fundamentals at
that--that all these trimmings seem just a little irritating, don't you
think?"

"I follow you. I simply can't imagine myself worrying over a stray
calf."

"And I can't imagine myself sitting in an office and dealing with such
unessential things as stocks and bonds.... And I'm not going to."

"Got any notion what you will do?" said Linder, when he had reached the
middle of another cigarette.

"Not the slightest. I don't even know whether I'm rich or broke. I
suppose if Jones and Murdoch are still alive they will be looking
after those details. Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me with
additional wealth. What are YOU going to do?"

"Don't know. Maybe go back and work for Transley."

The mention of Transley threw Grant's mind back into old channels. He
had almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite forgotten
Zen Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when they potted him
in No Man's Land. As he lay there, waiting.... he knew he had not
forgotten. And he had thought many times of Phyllis Bruce. At first he
had written to her, but she had not answered his letters. Evidently
she meant him to forget. Nor had she come to the station to welcome him
home. Perhaps she did not know. Perhaps--Many things can happen in four
years.

Suddenly it occurred to Grant that it might be a good idea to call on
Phyllis. He would take Linder along. That would make it less personal.
He knew his man well enough to keep his own counsel, and eventually they
reached the gate of the Bruce cottage, as though by accident.

"Let's turn in here. I used to know these people. Mother and daughter;
very fine folk."

Linder looked for an avenue of retreat, but Grant barred his way, and
together they went up the path. A strange woman, with a baby on her arm,
m