It was Saturday morning when Courtland received the letter. Pat had gone down to the city for over Sunday. An inexpressible longing filled him to see Tennelly again, before his marriage completed the wall that was between them. He wanted to have a real old-fashioned talk; to look into the soul of his friend and see the old loyalty shining there. He wanted more than all to come close to him once more, and, it might be, tell him about the Christ. He took down his road-book, turned to the map, and let his finger fall on the coast-line about midway between the city and the seminary. Looking it up in the book, he found Shadow Beach described as a quiet and exclusive resort with a good inn, excellent service, fine sea-bathing, etc. Well, that would do as well as anywhere. He telegraphed Tennelly: Meet me at Shadow Beach, Howland's Inlet, Elm Tree Inn, this evening. COURT. It was dark when he reached Elm Tree Inn. The ocean rolled, a long black line flecked with faint foam, along the shore, and luminous with a coming moon. Two dim figures, like moving shadows, went down the sand picked out against the path of the moon. Save for those all was lonely, up and down. Courtland shivered slightly and almost wished he had selected some more cheerful spot for the meeting. He had not realized how desolate a sea can be when it is growing cold. Nevertheless, it was majestic. It seemed like eternity in its limitless stretch. The lights in far harbors glinted out in the distance down the coast. Somehow the vast emptiness filled him with sadness. He felt as if he were entering upon anything but a pleasant reunion, and half wished he had not come. Courtland ran his car up to the entrance and sprang out. He was glad to get inside, where a log fire was crackling. The warmth and the light dispelled his sadness. Things began to take on a cheerful aspect again. "I suppose you haven't many guests left," he said, pleasantly, as he registered. "Only him, sir!" said the clerk, pointing to the entry just above Courtland's. "James T. Aquilar and wife, Seattle, Washington," Courtland read, idly, and turned away. "They been here two days. Come in a nerroplane!" went on the clerk, communicatively. "Fly all the way from Seattle?" asked Courtland, idly. He was looking at his watch and wondering if he should order supper or wait until Tennelly arrived. "Well, I can't say for sure. He's mighty uncommunicative, but he's given out he flies 'most anywhere the notion takes him. He's got his machine out in the lot back o' the inn. You oughtta see it. It's a bird!" "H'm!" said Courtland. "I must have a look at it in daylight. I'm looking for a friend up from the city pretty soon. Guess it would be more convenient for you if we dined together. I'll wait a bit. Meantime, let me see what rooms you have."