.

"Derry," Drusilla said, softly. "Derry, why aren't you fighting?"

It was the question he had dreaded. He had seen it often in her eyes,
but never before had she voiced it.

"I can't tell you, Drusilla, but there's a reason--a good one. God
knows I would go if I could."

The passion in his voice convinced her.

"Don't you know I'd be in it if I had my way. But I've got to stay on
the shelf like the tin soldier in the fairy tale. Do you remember,
Drusilla? And people keep asking me--why?"

"I shouldn't have asked it, Derry?"

"You couldn't know. And you had a right to ask--everybody has a
right--and I can't answer."

She laid her hand on his shoulder. "When I was a little girl," she
said, softly, "I used to cry--because I was so sorry for the--tin
soldier--"

"Are you sorry for me, Drusilla?"

"Dreffly sorry."

They stood in silence among the shadows, with only the red candles
burning. Then Derry said, heartily, "You are the best friend that a
fellow ever had, Drusilla."

And that was as far as he would play the game!

CHAPTER IV

THE QUESTION

Whatever else might be said of General Drake, his Bacchanalian
adventures were those of a gentleman. Not for him were the sinister
streets and the sordid taverns of the town. When his wild moods came
upon him, he struck out straight for open country. Up hill and down
dale he trudged, a knight of the road, finding shelter and refreshment
at wayside inns, or perchance at some friendly farm.

The danger lay in the lawless folk whom he might meet on the way.
Unshaven and unshorn he met them, travelling endlessly along the
railroad tracks, by highways, through woodland paths. They slept by
day and journeyed by night. By reversing this program, the General as
a rule avoided them. But not always, and when the little lad Derry had
followed his strange quests, he had come now and then upon his father,
telling stories to an unsavory circle, lord for the moment of them all.

"Come, Dad," Derry would say, and when the men had growled a threat, he
had flung defiance at them. "My mother's motor is up the road with two
men in it. If I don't get back in five minutes they will follow me."

The General had always been tractable in the hands of his son. He
adored him. It was only of late that he had found anything to
criticise.

Derry, driving along the old Conduit road in the crisp darkness,
wondered how long that restless spirit would endure in