"Died of a gunshot wound received by accident," the coroner came and found. John March and the minister had gone into March's office, but Captain Champion's word was quite enough. It was nearly tea-time when John and the Parson came out again. The sidewalk was empty. As John locked the door he felt a nail under his boot, picked it up, and seeming not to realize his own action at all, stepped to the sidewalk's edge, found a loose stone and went back to the door, all the time saying, "No, sir, I've made it perfectly terrible to think of God and a hereafter, but somehow I've never got so low down as to wish there wa'n't any. I--" his thumb pressed the nail into its hole in the corner of his sign-- "I do lots of things that are wrong, awfully wrong, though sometimes I feel--" he hammered it home with the stone--"as if I'd rather"--he did the same for the other two and the thumb-tack--"die trying to do right than live,--well,--this way. But--" tossing away the stone and wiping his hands--"that's only sometimes, and that's the very best I can say." They walked slowly. The wind had ceased. By the _Courier_ office John halted. "Supper! O excuse me, Mr. Tombs really! I--I can't sir!--I--I'll eat at the hotel. I've got to see a gentleman on business. But I pledge you my word, sir, I'll come to the meeting." They shook hands. "You're mighty kind to me, sir." The gentleman he saw on business was Ravenel. They supped together in a secluded corner of the Swanee Hotel dining-room, talking of Widewood and colonization, and by the time their cigars were brought--by an obsequious black waiter with soiled cuffs--March felt that he had never despatched so much business at one sitting in his life before. "John," said Ravenel as they took the first puff, "there's one thing you can do for me if you will: I want you to stand up with me at my wedding." March stiffened and clenched his chair. "Jeff-Jack, you oughtn't to've asked me that, sir! And least of all in connection with this Widewood business, in which I'm so indebted to you! It's not fair, sir!" Ravenel scarcely roused himself from reverie to reply, "You mustn't make any connection. I don't." "Well, then, I'll not," said March. "I'll even thank you for the honor. But I don't deserve either the honor or the punishment, and I simply can't do it!" "Can't you 'hide in your breast every selfish care and flush your pale cheek with wine'? Every man has got to eat a good deal of crow. It's not so bad, from the hand of a friend. It shan't compromise you." With head up and eyes widened John gazed at the friendly-cynical face before him. "It would compromise me; you know it would! Yes, sir, you may laugh, but you knew it when you asked me. You knew it would be unconditional surrender. I don't say you hadn't a right to ask, but--I'm a last ditcher, you know." "Well," drawled Ravenel, pleasantly, when they rose, "if that's what you prefer----"