"Of course," he said, "we'll have a few months, but before we leave America everything will have to be settled. We'll have to know just where we stand." Into the midst of their sombre discussion slipped the tinkling of the telephone. George answered. He glanced at the others. "It's Blodgett. Wants me right away. Something important." He hurried down, wondering what was up. Blodgett's voice had vibrated with an unaccustomed passion that had left with George an impression of whole-hearted revolt; and when he got in the massive, over-decorated office his curiosity grew, for Blodgett looked as if he had dressed against time and without valet or mirror. The straggly pale hair about the ears was rumpled. His necktie was awry. The pudgy hands shook a trifle. George's heart quickened. Blodgett had had bad news. What was the worst news Blodgett could have? "I know," Blodgett began, "that you and your partners have passed and are going to Plattsburgh to become officers." All at once George caught the meaning of Blodgett's disarray, and his hope was replaced by a mirth he had difficulty hiding. "You don't mean you've been over to Governor's Island----" Blodgett stood up. "Yes," he confessed, solemnly. "Just got back from my physical examination. Would you believe it, George, the darned fools wouldn't have me, because I'm too fat? Called it obese, as if it was some kind of a disease, instead of just my natural inclination to fleshiness." One of his pudgy hands struck his chest. "Never stopped to see that my heart's all right, and that's what we want, people whose hearts are all right." Momentarily the enmity aroused by circumstances fled from George. The man was genuine, suffering from a devastating disappointment; but surely he hadn't called him downstairs only to witness this outbreak. Blodgett lowered himself to his chair. He wiped his face with one of his gay handkerchiefs. He spoke reasonably. "My place is at home. All right. I'll make it easier then for the thin people that can go. I'm going to look after you boys. Mundy's not big enough. I've got a man in view I can keep tabs on, and Blodgett'll always be sitting down here seeing you don't get stung." He sighed profoundly. "Guess that'll have to be my share." George would rather have had the man curse him. It struck directly at his pride to submit to this unmasking of his jealous opinion. He strangled his quick impulse to reach forward, to grasp Blodgett's hand, to beg his pardon. Instead he tried to find ways of avoiding the generous gift. "We can't settle anything yet. A dozen circumstances may arise. The war may end----" "When you go, George," Blodgett said, wistfully.