with his hands and sought to
fight down the joyful hysteria that began to shake his whole body. All
at once he caught sight of De Gollyer's impish eyes, and, unable longer
to contain himself, burst out laughing. The more he laughed at De
Gollyer, who laughed back at him, the more uncontrollable he became.
Tears came to his eyes and trickled down his cheeks, washing away all
illusions and self-deception, leaving only the joy of deliverance,
acknowledged at last.

All at once holding his sides, he found a little breath and cried
combustibly:

"A _can-can_!"

Suddenly, with one impulse, they locked arms and pirouetted about the
room, flinging out destructive legs, hugging each other with bear-like
hugs as they had done in college days of triumph. Exhausted at last,
they reeled apart, and fell breathless into opposite chairs. There was a
short moment of weak, physical silence, and then Lightbody, shaking his
head, said solemnly:

"Jim--Jim, that's the first real genuine laugh I've had in six vast
years!"

"My boy, it won't be the last."

"You bet it won't!" Lightbody sprang up, as out of the ashen cloak of
age the young Faust springs forth. "To-morrow--do you hear, to-morrow
we're off for Morocco!"

"By way of Paris?" questioned De Gollyer, who likewise gained a dozen
years of youthfulness.

"Certainly by way of Paris."

"With a dash of Vienna?"

"Run it off the map!"

"Good old Jack! You're coming back, my boy, you're coming strong!"

"Am I? Just watch!" Dancing over to the desk, he seized a dozen heavy
books:

"'Evolution and Psychology,' 'Burning Questions!' 'Woman's Position in
Tasmania!' Aha!"

One by one, he flung them viciously over his head, reckoning not the
crash with which they fell. Then with the same _pas de ballet_ he
descended on the hat-box and sent it from his boot crashing over the
piano. Before De Gollyer could exclaim, he was at the closet, working
havoc with the boxes of cigars.

"Here, I say," said De Gollyer laughing, "look out, those are cigars!"

"No, they're not," said Lightbody, pausing for a moment. Then, seizing
two boxes, he whirled about the room holding them at arms' length,
scattering them like the sparks of a pin-wheel, until with a final
motion he flung the emptied boxes against the ceiling, and, coming to an
abrupt stop, shot out a mandatory forefinger, and cried:

"Jim, you dine with me!"

"The fact is--"

"No buts, no excuses! Break all engagements! To-night