the other things afterwards."

By nightfall, Tavernake's wardrobe was complete. Even Pritchard regarded
him with a certain surprise. He seemed, somehow, to have gained a new
dignity.

"Say, but you look great!" he exclaimed. "They won't believe it at the
meeting to-morrow that you are the man who crossed the Yolite Mountains
and swam the Peraneek River. That's a wonderful country you were in,
Tavernake, after you left the tracks."

They were in Broadway, with the roar of the city in their ears, and
Tavernake, lifting his face starwards, suddenly seemed to feel the
silence once more, the perfume of the pine woods, the scent of nature
herself, freed through all these generations of any presence of man.

"I'll never keep away from it," he said, softly. "I'll have to go back."

Pritchard smiled.

"When your report's in shape and the dollars are being scooped in,
they'll send you back fast enough--that is, if you still want to go," he
remarked. "I tell you, Leonard Tavernake, our city men here are out for
the dollars. Over on your side, a man makes a million or so and he's
had enough. One fortune here only seems to whet the appetite of a New
Yorker. By the way," he added, after a moment's hesitation, "does it
interest you to know that an old friend of yours is in New York?"

Tavernake's head went round swiftly.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Mrs. Wenham Gardner."

Tavernake set his teeth.

"No," he said, slowly, "I don't know that that interests me."

"Glad of it," Pritchard went on. "I can tell you I don't think things
have been going extra well with the lady. She's spent most of what she
got from the Gardner family, and she doesn't seem to have had the best
of luck with it, either. I came across her by accident. She is staying
at a flashy hotel, but it's in the wrong quarter--second-rate--quite
second-rate."

"I wonder whether we shall see anything of her," Tavernake remarked.

"Do you want to?" Pritchard asked. "She'll probably be at Martin's for
lunch, at the Plaza for tea, and Rector's for supper. She's not exactly
the lady to remain hidden, you know."

"We'll avoid those places, then, if you are taking me around," Tavernake
said.

"You're cured, are you?" Pritchard inquired.

"Yes, I am cured," Tavernake answered, "cured of that and a great many
other things, thanks to you. You found me the right tonic."

"Tonic," Pritchard repeated, meditatively. "That reminds me. This way
for the best cocktail in