a distant shout. And then: "Coming, Kenny."

Had Kenny's call been one of reassurance? To Garry, miserably intent
upon the ordeal ahead, the big Irishman, whistling softly in his chair,
had sent a message through the dark to ease the tension. Already the
daredevil light danced wantonly in his eyes.

Hannah trotted off in better humor.

Dreading the supper hour, dreading the sound of steps upon the walk,
Garry smoked and gnawed his lips. The meeting must be painful. . . .
Now they were coming along the gravel . . . and now . . . He had
undervalued Kenny's tact.

The latch of the screen door clicked. Kenny rummaged for cigarettes
and struck a match. Joan had slipped to her place at the table before
he threw the match away. Then he smiled. His eyes were a curious
droll confessional that Brian seemed at once to understand. They
deplored the fickle strain in his blood that doomed all madness of the
heart to end in time. Brian had seen that look too many times to doubt
it now.

"Come, Garry." Joan brought him into the circle at the table with a
smile. Garry joined it with a sinking heart. He would have had that
shining look of wonder in her eyes less unrestrained. But the shadows
for Joan, thanks to Kenny's lie, lay already dimly in the past.

The merriment of the supper hour Garry thought of later with a pang.
He ate but little, fascinated by the reckless spontaneity of Kenny's
mood. It put them all at ease. The big kind Spartan will behind it
brought a catch to Garry's throat. Daredevil glints laughed in Kenny's
eyes. Again and again Garry found himself staring at the actor's vivid
face in a panic of unbelief.

"Garry's had a letter," said Kenny presently. "He's driving back
to-night."

"Garry!"

"I'm sorry." Garry rose. "I'm afraid," he added, glancing at his
watch, "that I'll have to slip upstairs and sling some odds and ends in
my suit case. Mind, Kenny?"

"Run along," said Kenny. "I'll be up in a minute." He drummed an
irresponsible tune upon the table and looked apologetic.

"If you'll not be mindin', Brian," he began, "I'll go along. He
doesn't know the roads--"

Brian eyed him with a familiar glint of authority.

"I thought so," he said slowly. "I saw it coming. You're just in the
mood for what Jan calls 'rocketing' and Garry's letter, of course, was
the spark. Luckily, old boy, I'm on the job again. You've been
tearing around unguarded a shade too long."

"I've got t