ery well. We shall have the orders issued at the proper moment,"
concluded Partow. "And Westerling is going to find," he proceeded after
a thoughtful pause, "that a man is readier to die fighting to hold his
own threshold than fighting to take another man's. War is not yet solely
an affair of machinery and numbers. The human element is still
uppermost. I know something, perhaps, that Westerling does not know. I
have had an experience that he has not had and that few active officers
of either army have had--I have been under fire."

His eyes flashed with the memory of his charge, and visions of the day
when Grandfather Fragini was a _beau sabreur_ and Marta Galland's father
toasted quick death and speedy promotion seemed to cluster around him.

"Experience plus an old man's honest effort for a mind open to all
suggestion and improvements!" he exclaimed. "An open mind that let you
have your way in equipping more dirigibles and planes than Westerling
guesses we have, eh? And, perhaps, a few more guns! And you, too, have
been under fire," he added. "Give me your hand--no, not that one, not
the one you shake hands with--the one wounded in action!"

Partow enclosed the stiffened fingers in his own with something of the
caress which an old bear that is in very good humor might give to a
promising cub.

"I have planned, planned, planned for this time," he said. "I have
played politics with statesmen to hold my place in the belief that I was
the man for the work which I have done. The world shall soon know, as
the elements of it go into the crucible test, whether it is well done or
not. I want to live to see the day when the last charge made against our
trenches is beaten back. Then they may throw this old body onto the
rubbish heap as soon as they please--it is a fat, unwieldy behemoth of
an old body!"

"No, no, it isn't!" Lanstron objected hotly. He was seeing only what
most people saw after talking with Partow for a few minutes, his fine,
intelligent eyes and beautiful forehead.

"All that I wanted of the body was to feed my brain," Partow continued,
heedless of the interruption. "I have watched my mind as a navigator
watches a barometer. I have been ready at the first sign that it was
losing its grip to give up. Yet I have felt that my body would go on
feeding my brain and that to the last moment of consciousness, when
suddenly the body collapses, I should have self-possession and energy of
mind. Under the coming strai