"Such creatures are a disgrace to a civilized government," he exclaimed, with ill-concealed wrath. "Our government is a disgrace to itself," she added. "It creates such creatures by a legal process, and yonder is the factory," and she pointed in the direction of the canteen. "Canteen beer--canteen beer," she began again, with warmth, but stopped, for she knew that she was very much excited and that she might not speak wisely. If she had opened an argument with the gentleman at her side she would have found that he was well posted with the old arguments about the canteen being an institution to keep the soldiers from the greed of evil saloons outside the different posts, but her companion respected her silence, and did not speak until they had passed the great iron gate, when it became necessary. "Now," said he, "if you will direct the way, and have no objections, it will give me pleasure to see you safely home." "I am Miss Thorn," said Jean, giving him her address. "Miss Thorn? Perhaps you are related to Judge Thorn?" "I am," replied Jean, smiling. "That is nice. I have had the pleasure of meeting the judge, and I do not know a man whom I would rather oblige. He is a man all men honor." "I am his daughter," Jean said, proudly, "and I assure you my father will feel under lasting obligations to you for your kindness to me this afternoon, Mr. ----" "Allison," the gentleman said. "Allison?" It was Jean's turn to look surprised. "Yes, madam. Allison--Gilbert Allison." "Not of the firm of Allison, Russell & Joy?" "The same, madam." She looked at him with mingled wonder and regret. The firm name of Allison, Russell & Joy to her mind was a synonym for heartless destruction of happiness and life. The traffic itself was a great evil generality, and as such met condemnation. But in generalities, as in mountain ranges, there are specific points that tower out distinctively for consideration. Such a pinnacle of iniquity this liquor firm had seemed to Jean to be since her acquaintance with the Crowleys. "You must be mistaken," she observed at length. Gilbert Allison had been amused before. Now he laughed. "If I am mistaken, life has been a vast mistake," he said, "for I have supposed myself to be this same Allison for over thirty years. But why do you think so?" Jean shook her head sadly. "I do not understand it at all," she said, gravely. "I beg your pardon; but if you will explain to me the trouble, perhaps I may be able to enlighten your understanding." "I do not understand how the same person can be so kind and yet so cruel. I do not understand how one person can risk his life to save a life--for perhaps you saved mine to-day--and yet cause death, and you have been the cause of death." Jean spoke slowly and looked grave. Mr. Allison felt like laughing again, but politely refrained. "I have been accused of a number of things in my life," he said, good-naturedly, "but, until to-day, murder has been omitted from the list."