be one of these kings, not if you paid
me. . . . Look here, we'll cross to-morrow, eh? Of course, if
you prefer to stay behind--'

"'I'm not going to stay behind,' said I, throwing away my
cigarette.

"'Capital! We'll wind up with a dinner at the Savoy--'

"'Cold roast beef and mixed pickles,' I put in.

"He chuckled. 'Clever fellow, that Caffyn--made my mouth water,
he did. We'll wind up at the Savoy, and talk over another trip
that we'll take together, one of these days. For I shall miss
your company, Doctor.'

"'No, you won't,' said I, lighting a fresh cigarette.

"He stared at me for a moment as if slightly hurt in his
feelings. Then: 'Don't contradict,' he said sharply, and
laughed as I stared in my turn. 'Expression of yours,' he said.
'Sounds rude; but all depends _how_ you say it. I reckon I've
caught up the accent--eh?--by the quick way you looked up. . . .
I hadn't much school and never went to College: but I've studied
you, Doctor, and I'll improve.'

"'Well, then,' said I, nettled and less inclined to spare him,'
I'm sorry to contradict you, Mr. Farrell, but you are never
going to miss my company--_never, until your life's end_.'

"'What d'ye mean?' he blurted: and I suppose there was something
in my look that made him edge off an inch or two on the rustic
seat.

"'Simply this,' I answered. 'Ten or a dozen weeks ago you made
yourself the instrument to destroy something twenty times more
valuable than yourself. I am not speaking of what you killed in
me, nor of the years of application, the records, measurements,
analyses which you hoofed into nothing with no more thought than
a splay coon's for an ant-heap. Nor will I trouble you with any
tale of the personal hopes I had built on them, for you to
murder. The gods suffer men of your calibre to exist, and they
must know why. But I tell you this, though you may find it even
harder to understand. Science has her altars, and her priests.
I was one, serving an altar which you defiled. And by God,
Peter Farrell, upholsterer, the priest will pursue!'

"He drew back to the end of the seat and fairly wilted.
His terror had no more dignity than a sheep's. He cast an eye
about for help. There was none. 'You're mad!' he quavered.
'If we were in England