“Here is a man,” and the old man indicated Forrester, “who knows every step I would have taken to safeguard him of whom you all know. And here,” indicating Kenyon, “is one of unquestioned courage, of ready resource, of coolness in the face of danger. Combined they will form a defence which even the most secret and deadly machinations would find difficult in breaking down. You, Griscom, have asked Anna of me in marriage; and you,” to Kenyon, “have asked for her.” His hand, as he spoke, rested upon that of the girl of the hansom cab. Kenyon gasped and stood staring in wonder. This was the most astonishing of a series of astonishing things; and his amazement was so great that he could not have protested had his desire to do so been ever so great. And, to speak the plain truth, the desire to do so did not even exist. There was a magic for him in that brilliant, proud face and imperiously uplifted head. Why, if he could--but he halted the idea instantly, crushing it down without ruth. No, no. That sort of thing would not do. He must not allow such fancies to get possession of him. Soldiering in South America is not very profitable employment, but it, at least, teaches a man to avoid ways that are perilous; and in the way to this beautiful unknown’s love lay pain and heart-burning. He could read that in each glance of her eye and each movement of her supple, exquisite figure. These thoughts occupied but a few seconds’ time, and Kenyon was about following where they led when he was arrested by a gesture which the old man made to the two girls. They seemed to understand, and each raised her right hand; the fair-haired one was choked with sobs; the other proud and cold-eyed and looking unflinchingly into Kenyon’s face. Then the sick man spoke in the panting, broken way of a man who had run a long race; and the girls repeated the words after him without hesitation. “I solemnly swear that I will willingly become the wife of,” here one spoke Forrester’s name and the other Kenyon’s, “but not until he has performed the service of which he knows.” As they finished the old man reached the end of his strength. A deep purple ring showed about his mouth, his head hung limply to one side. His iron will was still unbroken, for he managed to gasp out: “My friends, it is for you to--” But death killed the speech in his mouth. And as the two girls sank sobbing beside him, Forrester took two quick strides to Kenyon’s side. “Quick, now,” he whispered. “Everything is ready. Your share of this work will stand no delay.” And with that he all but forced the adventurer from the room and down the stairs. In another moment Kenyon found himself upon the outer steps with the door closed behind him, and all about him the clustering shadows of the night. V GARRY WEBSTER, OF CHICAGO “It’s always best to have a pal; you can frame things up with him, you know.” --_The Advice of Big Slim._