lit the gas, but he could
hardly keep back an exclamation as the glare suddenly struck young
Haight's face. What in heaven's name was the matter with his old-time
chum? He seemed to be blighted, shattered, struck down by some terrible,
overwhelming calamity. A dreadful anguish looked through his eyes. The
sense of a hopeless misery had drawn and twisted his face. There could
be no doubt that something had made shipwreck of his life. Vandover was
looking at a ruined man.

"My God, Dolly!" exclaimed Vandover, "what's happened to you? You look
like a death's-head, man! What's gone wrong? Aren't you well?"

Haight caught his friend's searching gaze, and for a moment they looked
at each other without speaking. There was no mistaking the fearful grief
that smouldered behind Haight's dull, listless eyes. For a moment
Vandover thought of Turner Ravis. But even if she had turned him off,
that alone would not account for his friend's fearful condition of mind
and body.

"What is it, Dolly?" persisted Vandover. "We used to be pretty good
chums, not so long ago."

They sat down on the edge of the bed, and for a moment their positions
seemed reversed: Haight the one to be protected and consoled, Vandover
the shielding and self-reliant one.

Young Haight passed his hand over his face before he answered, and
Vandover noticed that his fingers trembled like an old man's.

"Do you remember that night, Van, when you and Charlie and I all went
out to Turner's house, and we had _tamales_ and beer, and a glass broke
in that peculiar way, and I cut my lip?"

Vandover nodded, forcing his attention against the alcoholic fumes, to
follow his friend's words.

"We went down to the Imperial afterward," Haight continued, "and ran
into Ellis, and we had something more to eat. Do you remember that as we
sat there, Toby, the waiter, brought Flossie in, and she sat there with
us a while?"

He paused, choosing his words. Vandover listened closely, trying to
recall the incident.

"She kissed me," said young Haight slowly, "and the court-plaster came
off. You know I never had anything to do with women, Van. I always tried
to keep away from them. But that's where my life practically came to an
end."

"You mean--" began Vandover. "You mean--that you--that Flossie--?"

Haight nodded.

"Good God! I can't believe it. It's not possible! I _know_ Flossie!"

Haight shook his head, smiling grimly.

"I can't help that, Van," said he. "There's no