l have; that this government, this country which we love,
which has three times been saved at such cost of blood, shall survive."

It was after that speech that he met Pink Denslow for the first time.
A square, solidly built young man edged his way through the crowd, and
shook hands with him.

"Name's Denslow," said Pink. "Liked what you said. Have you time to run
over to my club with me and have a high-ball and a talk?"

"I've got all the rest of the night."

"Right-o!" said Pink, who had brought back a phrase or two from the
British.

It was not until they were in the car that Pink said:

"I think you're a friend of Miss Cardew's, aren't you?"

"I know Miss Cardew," said Willy Cameron, guardedly. And they were both
rather silent for a time.

That night proved to be a significant one for them both, as it
happened. They struck up a curious sort of friendship, based on a humble
admiration on Pink's part, and with Willy Cameron on sheer hunger for
the society of his kind. He had been suffering a real mental starvation.
He had been constantly giving out and getting nothing in return.

Pink developed a habit of dropping into the pharmacy when he happened
to be nearby. He was rather wistfully envious of that year in the camp,
when Lily Cardew and Cameron had been together, and at first it was
the bond of Lily that sent him to the shop. In the beginning the shop
irritated him, because it seemed an incongruous background for the fiery
young orator. But later on he joined the small open forum in the back
room, and perhaps for the first time in his idle years he began to
think. He had made the sacrifice of his luxurious young life to go to
war, had slept in mud and risked his body and been hungry and cold and
often frightfully homesick. And now it appeared that a lot of madmen
were going to try to undo all that he had helped to do. He was surprised
and highly indignant. Even a handful of agitators, it seemed, could do
incredible harm.

One night he and Willy Cameron slipped into a meeting of a Russian
Society, wearing old clothes, which with Willy was not difficult,
and shuffling up dirty stairs without molestation. They came away
thoughtful.

"Looks like it's more than talk," Pink said, after a time.

"They're not dangerous," Willy Cameron said. "That's talk. But it shows
a state of mind. The real incendiaries don't show their hand like that."

"You think it's real, then?"

"Some boils don't come to a head. But