count, "One,
two--" There was a simultaneous report of two pistols, two little puffs
of smoke, and when the smoke had cleared away, the other man with the
pistol was sinking slowly to the ground, and he himself was tottering
into the arms of the man nearest him.

He came back to the present with a gasp.

"My son," he said gravely, "I once was called on and failed. I have
regretted it all my life, though happily the consequences were not as
fatal as I had at one time apprehended. If every generation did not
improve on the follies and weaknesses of those that have gone before,
there would be no advance in the world. I want you to be wiser and
stronger than I."

Gordon's chance of revenge came sooner than he expected. Not long after
he got out of doors again he was on his way down to the lake, where he
was learning to swim, when a number of boys whom he passed began to hoot
at him. In their midst was Ferdy Wickersham, the boy who had crossed the
ocean with him. He was setting the others on. The cry that came to
Gordon was: "Nigger-driver! Nigger-driver!" Sometimes Fortune, Chance,
or whatever may be the deity of fortuitous occurrence, places our
weapons right to hand. What would David have done had there not been a
stony brook between him and Goliath that day? Just as Gordon with
burning face turned to defy his deriders, a pile of small stones lay at
his feet. It looked like Providence. He could not row a boat, but he
could fling a stone like young David. In a moment he was sending stones
up the hill with such rapidity that the group above him were thrown into
confusion.

Then Gordon fell into an error of more noted generals. Seizing a supply
of missiles, he charged straight up the hill. Though the group had
broken at the sudden assault, by the time he reached the hill-top they
had rallied, and while he was out of ammunition they made a charge on
him. Wheeling, he went down the hill like the wind, while his pursuers
broke after him with shouts of triumph. As he reached the stone-pile he
turned and made a stand, which brought them to a momentary stop. Just
then a shout arose below him. Gordon turned to see rushing up the hill
toward him Norman Wentworth. He was picking up stones as he ran. Gordon
heard him call out something, but he did not wait for his words. Here
was his arch-enemy, his conqueror, and here, at least, he was his equal.
Without wasting further time with those above him, Gordon sprang toward
his new as