py. Catch on? There are places where
nothing happens. Nothing ever has happened. Go and find such a hole
and stay in it a month, six weeks--longer, if you can. Be a part of
the nothingness and save your life. Break all the commandments, if
there are any, but don't look back! I've seen big cures come from
letting go! I'll look after your mother and Kathryn."

The telephone here interrupted.

"All right! all right!" snapped Manly into the receiver, "set the
operation for ten to-morrow and have the hair shaved from the side of
her head."

Then he turned back to Northrup as if disfiguring a woman were a
matter of no importance.

"The fact is, Northrup, most of us get glued to our own narrow slits
in the wall, most of us are chained to them by our jobs and we get to
squinting, if we don't get blinded. I'm not saying that we don't each
have a slit and should know it; but your job requires moving about and
peering through other fellows' slits, and lately, ever since that last
book of yours, you've kept to your hole; the fever caught you at the
wrong time and this mess across seas has got mixed up with it all
until you're no use to yourself or any one else. Beat it!"

Something like a wave of fresh air seemed to have entered the quiet,
warm room. Northrup raised his head. Manly took heed and rambled on;
he saw that he was making an impression at last.

"Queer things jog you into consciousness when you detach yourself from
your moorings. A mountain-top, a baby's hold on your finger, when
you're about to hurt it. A sunset, a woman's face; a moment when you
realize your soul! You're never the same after, Northrup, but you do
your job better and your slit in the wall is wider. Man, you need a
jog."

"What jogged you, Manly?"

This was daring. People rarely questioned Manly.

"It was seeing my soul!" Quite simply the answer came.

There was a long, significant silence. Both men had to travel back to
the commonplace and they felt their way gingerly.

"Northrup, drop things. It is your friend speaking now. Go where the
roar and rumble of what doesn't concern you haven't reached.
Good-night."

Northrup got up slowly.

"I wonder if there is such a place?" he muttered.

"Sure, old man. Outside of this old sounding-board of New York, there
are nooks where nothing even echoes. Usually you find good fishing in
them. Come now, get out!"

CHAPTER I

Brace Northrup received the first intimation of his jog when he