or yet to give any satisfaction in response to his
companion's somewhat pointed references as to his doings of the night
before.

"There are times, Linder," he said, "when my soul craves solitude. You,
being a sergeant, and therefore having no soul, will not be able to
understand that longing for contemplation--"

"It's all right," said Linder. "I don't want her."

"Furthermore," Grant continued, "to-night I mean to resume my
soliloquies, and your absence will be much in demand."

"The supply will be equal to the demand."

"Good! Here are some morsels of money. If you will buy our railway
tickets and settle with the chief extortionist downstairs I will join
you at the night train going west."

Linder sprang to attention, gave a salute in which mock deference
could not entirely obscure the respect beneath, and set about on his
commissions, while Grant devoted the afternoon to a session with Murdoch
and Jones, to neither of whom would he reveal his plans further than to
say he was going west "to engage in some development work." During the
afternoon it was noted that Grant's interest centred more in a certain
telephone call than in the very gratifying financial statement which
Murdoch was able to place before him. And it was probably as a result
of that telephone call that a taxi drew up in front of Murdoch's home
at exactly six-thirty that evening and bore Miss Phyllis Bruce and an
officer wearing a captain's uniform in the direction of the best hotel
in the city.

The dining-room was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and soft strains
of music stole vagrantly about its high arching pillars, mingling
with the chatter of lovely women and of men to whom expense was no
consideration. Grant was conscious of a delicious sense of intimacy
as he helped Phyllis remove her wraps and seated himself by her at a
secluded corner table.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I don't make compliments for exercise, but you
do look stunning to-night!"

A warmth of color lit up her cheek--he had noticed at Murdoch's how pale
she was--and her eyes laughed back at him with some of their old-time
vivacity.

"I am so glad," she said. "It seems almost like old times--"

They gave their orders, and sat in silence through an overture. Grant
was delighting himself simply in her presence, and guessed that for her
part she could not retract the confession her love had wrung from her so
long ago.

"There are some things which don't change, Phyll