urally,
aren't disposed to look upon your crime quite in the same light as other
people. Why, in heaven's name, when you got a chance of slipping out of
life, and out of the old set, and making a fresh start, didn't you seize
it?"

"You mean, why didn't I get shot?" asked Dick, slowly.

"Well, not exactly that. You know as well as I do that lots of chaps go
to the front to get officially shot, and have their names on the list of
the killed--men who really mean to turn over a new leaf, and get a fresh
lease of life in another country, under another name, when the war is
over. Others get put right out of the way, because they haven't the
courage to do it themselves."

"But my mother could have explained!" cried Dick, huskily. He was so weak
that he was unable to cope with agitation.

"Tut, tut, man, your mother could explain nothing. She could only tell
the truth--that she gave you two checks for small amounts, and you put
bigger amounts to them, and cashed them at the bank; in short, that her
son was a forger."

"My mother said that!"

"Yes."

"God help her!" gasped Dick, with a gulp. He put his hand to his throat,
and fell forward on the table, senseless.

The colonel jumped up in alarm. Waiters rushed forward, and they revived
the sick man by further applications of brandy. He recovered quickly, and
food was again set before him.

He ate mechanically, and for a long time there was silence between the
two men. The colonel wished himself well out of the business, and felt
the brutality of using harsh words to a man in such a condition of
health. Yet, he was resolute in his purpose.

Dick appeared somewhat stronger after the meal. Every now and again, he
would look up at the colonel in a dazed fashion, as if unable to believe
the evidence of his senses. At last, he spoke again.

"I suppose--my brain isn't what it was. But I'm feeling better. Tell me
again what my mother said--and my father."

The colonel detailed all that he knew, displaying considerable irritation
in the process. This attitude of ignorance and innocence nettled him. He
wound up with a soldier-like abruptness.

"Well, are you going to live, or do you intend to remain dead?"

"I'm going home."

"To be arrested?"

"No, to ask some questions."

"Don't be a fool. You'll be arrested at the station."

"No, I sha'n't. I've done a little dodging lately. I shall travel to some
other place, and walk home. I've faced worse things than--"

T