McCay sucked his cigar in silence for a while, watching with dreamy eyes the blue smoke as it curled ceiling-ward. When he spoke his voice was singularly soft. 'Do you know, Sigsbee,' he said, sipping his Maraschino with a gentle melancholy--'do you know, there is something wonderfully pathetic to me in this business. I see the whole thing so clearly. There was a kind of quiver in the poor old chap's voice when he said: "She is coming to Cape Pleasant," which told me more than any words could have done. It is a tragedy in its way, Sigsbee. We may smile at it, think it trivial; but it is none the less a tragedy. That warm-hearted, enthusiastic girl, all eagerness to see the man she loves do well--Archie, poor old Archie, all on fire to prove to her that her trust in him is not misplaced, and the end--Disillusionment--Disappointment--Unhappiness.' 'He ought to keep his eye on the ball,' said the more practical Sigsbee. 'Quite possibly,' continued McCay, 'he has told her that he will win this championship.' 'If Archie's mutt enough to have told her that,' said Sigsbee decidedly, 'he deserves all he gets. Waiter, two Scotch highballs.' McCay was in no mood to subscribe to this stony-hearted view. 'I tell you,' he said, 'I'm _sorry_ for Archie! I'm _sorry_ for the poor old chap. And I'm more than sorry for the girl.' 'Well, I don't see what we can do,' said Sigsbee. 'We can hardly be expected to foozle on purpose, just to let Archie show off before his girl.' McCay paused in the act of lighting his cigar, as one smitten with a great thought. 'Why not?' he said. 'Why not, Sigsbee? Sigsbee, you've hit it.' 'Eh?' 'You have! I tell you, Sigsbee, you've solved the whole thing. Archie's such a bully good fellow, why not give him a benefit? Why not let him win this championship? You aren't going to tell me that you care whether you win a tin medal or not?' Sigsbee's benevolence was expanding under the influence of the Scotch highball and his cigar. Little acts of kindness on Archie's part, here a cigar, there a lunch, at another time seats for the theatre, began to rise to the surface of his memory like rainbow-coloured bubbles. He wavered. 'Yes, but what about the rest of the men?' he said. 'There will be a dozen or more in for the medal.' 'We can square them,' said McCay confidently. 'We will broach the matter to them at a series of dinners at which we will be joint hosts. They are white men who will be charmed to do a little thing like that for a sport like Archie.' 'How about Gossett?' said Sigsbee.