tion.

Closing the door after him and bidding Mrs. McGrath allow no one to
enter the study until his return unless Mr. Elmendorf should come in,
Major Cranston went in search of him. It was barely noon, up to which
hour he was supposed to be closeted with his pupil at the Allisons'
home. Then after a light luncheon it was his wont to sally forth on a
tramp, Cary starting, but rarely returning, with him. When Cranston was
at head-quarters a fortnight previous, the officers were speaking of the
almost daily appearance about two o'clock of Mr. Elmendorf, who was
possessed with a desire to get into the general's office and impress
that magnate with his views concerning the impending crisis. The
general, however, being forearmed, was always too busy to accord the
interview, one experience having proved more than enough. Everybody was
beginning to give Elmendorf the cold shoulder there, and by this time,
reasoned Cranston, he must have had sense enough to discontinue his
visits. Here, however, he underrated Elmendorf's devotion to his
principles, for such was the tutor's conviction of their absolute wisdom
and such his sense of duty to humanity that he was ready to encounter
any snub rather than be balked in his determination to right the
existing wrongs. Cranston did not want to go to the Allisons' and ask
for Elmendorf. He had that to say which could not be altogether pleasant
and was altogether personal, and he had no right to carry possible
discord into a fellow-citizen's home. The Lambert Library, a noble
bequest, stood within easy range of Allison's house and his own, a sort
of neutral ground, and from there did Cranston despatch a special
messenger with a note.

"Will Mr. Elmendorf kindly drop in at the Lambert Library when he has
finished luncheon? I have to take the three P.M. train back to Sheridan,
and desire five minutes' conversation relative to affairs at the study
as I found them this morning," was all the major wrote, but it was
nearly half-past one before that boy returned with the answer. There was
no telephone at the Allisons', for the millionaire had long since
ordered it out, finding his home peace broken up by incessant summonses
from all manner of people. Cranston waited impatiently, and meant to
upbraid the boy. "It wasn't my fault, sir: the gentleman was at lunch
and wouldn't write until he had finished," was the explanation. Cranston
tore open the unexpected reply:

"Mr. Elmendorf deeply regrets t