ays with enthusiasm. Warde added a note or two to the chorus.

"This is an opportunity for Scaife," he told John. "He may distinguish
himself very greatly, and the discipline of the camp will transmute the
bad metal into gold. War is an alchemist."

Upon the 11th of October war was declared.

After that, Desmond became as one possessed. He went about saying that
he pitied his father profoundly because he was a civilian and a
non-combatant. Warde wrote to Charles Desmond; "If you mean to send
Harry out, send him at once. He's fretting himself to fiddlestrings,
doing no work, and causing others to do no work also."

Sir William Symons' victory and death followed, and then the mortifying
retreat of General Yule. Upon the 30th day of the month eight hundred
and fifty officers and men were isolated and captured. Who does not
remember the wave of passionate incredulity that swept across the
kingdom when the evil tidings flashed over-seas? But Buller and his
staff were on the _Dunottar Castle_, and all Harrovians believed
devoutly that within a month of landing the Commander-in-Chief would
drive the invaders back and conquer the Transvaal.

Day after day, Desmond importuned his father. The "fun" would be over,
he pointed out, before he got there--and so on. At last word came. A
billet had been obtained. Desmond received a long envelope from the
War Office. He showed it to all his friends, old and young. Duff
junior--Caesar's fag--became so excited that he asked Warde for
permission to enlist as a drummer-boy. The School cheered Caesar at
four Bill.

And then came the parting.

Caesar was to join the Headquarters' Staff as soon as possible. He
spent the last hours with John, but his mind, naturally enough, was
concentrated upon his kit. He chattered endlessly of saddlery,
revolvers, sleeping bags, and Zeiss' glasses. John packed his
portmanteau. And on the morrow the friends parted at the station
without a word beyond--

"Good-bye, old Jonathan. Wish you were coming."

"Good-bye, Caesar. Good luck!"

And then the shrill whistle, the inexorable rolling of the wheels, the
bright eager face leaning far out of the window, the waved
handkerchief, the last words; "So long!" and John's reply, "So long!"

John saw the face fade; the wheels of the vanishing train seemed to
have rolled over his heart; the scream of the engine was the scream of
anguish from himself. He left the station and ran to the To