e
crumbling rocks had formed a shelter, that Courtland dropped upon his
knees. Not as a spot he had been seeking for, but as a haven to which he
had been led. He knelt, and all that Pat, standing, awed and uncovered,
a few feet below, heard, was:

"O God! O _God_!"

He knelt there a long time, while Pat waited below, trying to think
what to do. The sun was beginning to sink, and a soft, pink summer light
was glinting over the brown rocks and bits of moss and grasses. The
young leaves waved lightly overhead like children dancing in the
morning, and something of the sweetness and beauty of the scene crept
into Pat McCluny's soul as he stood and waited before this Gethsemane
gate for a man he loved to come forth.

At last he stepped up the rocks quietly and came and stood by Courtland,
laying a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "Come on, old man, it's getting
late. About time we were going back!"

Courtland got up and looked at him in a dazed way, as if his soul had
been bruised and he was only just recovering consciousness. Without a
word he turned and followed Pat back again to the city. They did not
talk on the way back. Pat whistled a little, that was all.

When they reached the gates of the university Courtland turned and put
out his hand, speaking in his own natural tone: "Thanks awfully, old
chap! Sorry to have made you all this trouble!"

"That's all right, pard," said Pat, huskily, grasping the hand in his
big fist. "I saw you were up against it and I stuck around, that's all!"

"I sha'n't forget it!"

They parted to their rooms. It was long past suppertime. Pat went away
by himself to think.

Over and over again to himself Courtland was saying, as he came to
himself and began to realize what had come to him: "It isn't so much
that I have lost her. It is that _she should have done it_!"

Pat said nothing even to Tennelly about his walk with Courtland. He
figured that Courtland would rather they did not know. He simply hovered
near like a faithful dog, ready for whatever might turn up. He was
relieved to see that his friend came down to breakfast next morning,
with a white, resolute face, and went about the order of the day
quietly, as if everything were as usual.

Tennelly and Bill Ward were on the alert. They had missed Courtland from
the festivities the night before, but were so thoroughly occupied with
their own part in the busy week that they had little time to question
him. Later in the day Tennell