r childhood;
"since you came back from Johannesburg, you've not been the same
man. What has done it?"

Weldon's lips shut with a tightness which curled the corners
downward. Then, as he looked into the questioning eyes and anxious
face of his companion, his own eyes softened, and he changed his
mind in regard to keeping silence.

"It was a hard journey," he said evasively, yet with a kindly accent
to the words. "Such days take it out of a man, Carew. I shall brace
up in time."

Carew shook his head.

"That is just what you must not do. You have braced too long, as it
is. Your wounds were nothing but scratches. They healed up easily
enough, and you say, yourself, that they don't trouble you; but you
look--"

"Well?" "As if things had ended for you," Carew blurted out
desperately.

Slowly, wearily, Weldon lifted his eyes to his friend's face.

"Well, they have," he said, with an intonation of dreary finality.

"Rot!" Carew observed profanely. "Look here, Weldon, you've no
business to funk in this fashion. It's not like you, either."

The word stung Weldon. He scrambled to his feet and stood to
attention.

"Carew, no other man could say that to me," he said slowly.

Carew maintained his ground.

"No other man cares for you as I do, Harvey. We've been like
brothers, and I have been too proud of your record to be willing to
sit by, quiet, and see you spoil the last round of the game. There
is too much at stake." Weldon raised his brows.

"What is at stake?" he asked coldly.

"Your whole army record. Your manhood. Your--" Carew hesitated; then
he nerved himself to speak out plainly; "your love for Miss Dent."

Weldon shut his teeth and drew in his breath between them, while the
dark red blood rushed across his face, and then died away, to leave
in its place a grayish pallor. He put out his hand, as if to ward
off something.

"For God's sake, don't!" he said huskily.

Carew watched him for an instant. Then he stepped forward and linked
his arm through that of Weldon.

"There's nothing doing now," he said quietly. "Let's go for a walk.
We can talk better, while we're moving, you know."

"But what is the use of talking?" Weldon objected listlessly.

Carew looked into the heavy eyes, the overcast face of his friend.
Not once during the past three weeks since Weldon's return from
Johannesburg had the cloud lifted.

"You must talk, Weldon," he said firmly. "If you don't talk, you'll
go mad. I've watche