"He goes by the name of Tintype," explained Mr. Webster, after the two men had shaken hands. "Not because he looks like one, but because the village idiot's name is Furman, and we have to have some way of tellin' them apart." A few minutes later, Charlie knocked resoundingly on Courtney's door. "Who is it?" "It's me,--Charlie Webster. Got a nice surprise for you." "Come in." And in strode Charlie, followed by the tall stranger and the lank Mr. Hatch. Courtney, full dressed,--except that he wore instead of his coat a thick blue bath gown,--was sitting at a table in front of the small wood-fire stove, playing solitaire. A saucer at one corner of the table served as an ash tray. It was half full of cigarette stubs. "Well, what the--" he began, and then, catching sight of the stranger, scrambled up from his chair, his mouth still open. "I thought you'd be surprised," said Charlie triumphantly. "This is Mr. Blythe, Mr. Thane,--shake hands with each other, comrades. When I told him you were so keen to see him and talk over old times, he said slap-bang he'd come with me when I offered to bring him up." "I hope we're not intruding, Mr. Thane," said Blythe, advancing with hand extended. "Mr. Webster assured me you were quite well enough to receive--" "I am glad you came," cried Courtney, recovering from his surprise. "Awfully good of you. These beastly lungs of mine, you know. The least little flare-up scares me stiff. Still, I had almost screwed up my nerve to going out this afternoon--" "It doesn't pay to take any risks," warned Blythe, as they shook hands. The two men looked each other closely, steadily in the eye. Courtney was the first to speak at the end of this mutual scrutiny. "I wasn't quite sure whether I met you over there, Captain Blythe," he said, "but now I know that I didn't. I've been puzzling my brain for days trying to recall the name, or at least your face. I may be wrong, however. I haven't much of a memory. I hope you will forgive me if we did meet and I have forgotten it. I--" "I have no recollection of ever having seen you, Mr. Thane," said Blythe. "It isn't surprising, however. It--it was a pretty big war, you know." Charlie Webster was slightly dashed. If anything, Courtney Thane was more at ease, more convincing than Addison Blythe. He felt rather foolish. Something, it seemed, had fallen very flat. He evaded Mr. Hatch's eye. "Sit down, Captain Blythe," said Courtney affably. "Hope you don't mind this bath gown. Charlie, make yourself at home on the bed,--you too, Hatch. We're as shy of chairs here as we were at the front, you see." Blythe remained for half an hour and then went away with his two companions. Courtney shook hands with him and said good-bye at the hall door; then he strode over to the bureau to look at himself in the glass. He saw reflected therein a very well satisfied face, with brightly confident eyes and the suggestion of a triumphant smile.