good," nodded Noyes. "I should have waited for my
sister, but I was a bit restless. Do you mind asking the clerk to let
her know where I am when she comes down?"

Monte called Henri.

"Inform Miss Noyes we'll be on the quay," he told him.

They walked in silence until they reached the boulevard bordering the
ocean.

"We have the place to ourselves," said Monte. "If I walk too fast for
you, let me know."

"I 'm not very sure of my feet yet," apologized Noyes. "I suppose in
time I'll get used to this."

"Good Lord, you don't expect it to last?"

"No. They tell me I have a fighting chance."

"How did it happen?"

"Used them a bit too much, I guess," answered Noyes.

"That's tough."

"A man has so darned much to do and such a little while to do it in,"
exclaimed Noyes.

"You must live in New York."

"Yes. And you?"

"I generally drift back for the holidays. I've been traveling a good
deal for the last ten years."

"I see. Some sort of research work?"

The way Noyes used that word "work" made Monte uncomfortable. It was
as if he took it for granted that a man who was a man must have a
definite occupation.

"I don't know that you would call it exactly that," answered Monte. "I
've just been knocking around. I have n't had anything in particular
to do. What are you in?"

"Law. I wonder if you're Harvard?"

"Sure thing. And you?"

Noyes named his class--a class six years later than Monte's.

"Well, we have something in common there, anyhow," said Covington
cordially. "My father was Harvard Law School. He practiced in
Philadelphia."

"I've always lived in New York. I was born there, and I love it. I
like the way it makes you hustle--the challenge to get in and live--"

He stopped abruptly, putting one hand to his eyes.

"They hurt?" asked Monte anxiously.

"You need your eyes in New York," he answered simply.

"You went in too hard," suggested Monte.

"Is there any other way?" cried Noyes.

"I used to play football a little," said Monte. "I suppose it's
something like that--when a man gets the spirit of the thing. When you
hit the line you want to feel that you 're putting into it every ounce
in you."

Noyes nodded.

"Into your work--into your life."

"Into your life?" queried Monte.

"Into everything."

Monte turned to look at the man. His thin lips had come together in a
straight line. His hollow cheeks were flushed. Every sense was as
alert as a fencer's.