The fight had begun. His first battle was against his own desire to turn his head and catch one more glimpse of her, to memorize her face. He won! And in the hour of his first victory he felt very lonely. CHAPTER IV IT was in that mood that he decided to go home. The little house on West Twelfth Street was the abode of misery. So much the better. He found some letters and a telegram waiting for him. He opened the telegram, certain that it was an urgent invitation to join beloved merrymakers--an invitation that he declined in advance with much self-pity He read: Ask for Thompson. It was signed: Tecumseh Motor Company. He then saw that it came from Dayton, Ohio. The other letters were from some of the other Herald advertisers. All but one were cordial requests for his immediate services--and capital. The last asked for more details about the business experience of Mr. Thomas P. Leigh. They did not interest him. He was too full of his romantic experiences. The Dayton man was a hero--a Man! Tommy must become one. He saw very clearly that he must add ten years to his life. He did it! Then it became obvious that he must transform his hitherto juvenile mind into a machine, beau-fully geared, perfectly lubricated, utterly efficient. Since machines express themselves in terms of action and accomplishment, Tommy began to pack up. His wearing apparel did not bother him, save for a passing regret that he had no old clothes to be a mechanic in. But the succeeding vision of overalls calmed him. What meant a second fight was the problem of living in Dayton in a room which he must not decorate with the treasured trophies of his college life. It was to a battle-field that he was going. He took out of his trunk many of the cherished objects and prepared to occupy a bomb-proof shelter instead of a cozy room. Second victory! And it was an amazing thing, but when Mr. Leigh came home that evening he found in his son no longer a boy of twenty-one, but a young man. The sight of the father, whose tragedy was now his son's, gave permanence to the change in the son. Tommy had passed the stage of regrets and entered into the hope of fair play. Fate must give him a sporting chance. He did not ask for the mischief to be undone suddenly and miraculously; nothing need be wiped out; he asked only that time might be given, a little time, until he could pay back that money. And if he couldn't win, that he might have one privilege--to die fighting. His father was his father. And the son's work would be the work of a son in everything. Fairness, justice--and a little delay!