riendship might
take root is a desire that sprang into life upon seeing them
together. Should they ever be friends, they would be forever
friends. Of that I am very sure.

By Selwyn's side David Guard seemed smaller, frailer, less robust
than ever, yet about him was no hint of feebleness, and his radiation
of quiet force was not lessened by Selwyn's strength. His clothes
were shabbier than ever, his cravat even less secure than usual, and
the long lock of hair that fell at times across his forehead was
grayer than formerly, I thought, but no externals could dim the
consciousness that he was a man to be reckoned with.

Opposite him Selwyn seemed the embodiment of all he lacked. The
well-being of his body, the quiet excellence of his clothes, the
unconscious confidence, born of ability and abundance, the security
of established position, marked him a man to whom the gods have been
good. But the gods mock all men. In Selwyn's eyes was search for
something not yet found. In David Guard's the peace that comes of
finding. I had hardly thought of their knowing each other.
To-night, quite by accident, they had met. Selwyn had come according
to agreement. David Guard, to tell me of a case in which he was
interested. He had come before Selwyn, and at the latter's entrance
had started to go. I would not let him go. If they could be made
friends--God!--what a power they could be!

They were discussing the war. The afternoon's reports had been
somewhat more ghastly than usual.

"The twentieth century obviously doesn't propose to be outdone by any
other period of history, recorded or unrecorded." One hand in his
pocket, an elbow on the mantel-shelf, Selwyn looked at David Guard.
"In the quarter of a million years in which man, or what we term man,
has presumably lived on this particular planet, nothing so far has
been discovered, I believe, which tells of such abominations as are
taking place to-day. It's an interesting epoch from the standpoint
of man's advance in scientific barbarism."

"It deepens, certainly, our respect for our primeval ancestors."
David Guard smiled grimly. "I understand there are still
tree-dwellers in certain parts of Australia who knock one another in
the head when it so pleases them to do. For the settlement of
difficulties their methods require much less effort and trouble than
ours. On the whole, I prefer their manner of fighting. Each side
can see what the other's about."

"So