"None of that, Willett!" he cried, his voice harsh with anger. "Your ways and mine are wide apart, but I'll stand no sneering. You come to me for help and you're going to get it, not because you scoff at my views, but in spite of it; not for your sake, but that of the old Academy. You and I are the only West Pointers at this post, bar the dear old general. You and I are classmates, and I know you, and _don't_ believe in you, but the money's yours for the asking. You say you come to me as an old friend, and I have never had faith in your friendship. I know how other men's and some women's names have suffered at your hands, and I don't know what you may have done to mine, but----" and now Harris was on his feet, standing over Willett--sitting there gripping the frail arms of a canvas-covered straddle-box, and looking up into the elder soldier's--the junior officer's--face in amaze. Never before had Willett been so braved by man or woman--"But your name shall be protected for just two reasons--and protected just so long as you can show you're worth it. But--Willett, I'm not preaching on drink or gambling now. There's another thing you've got to stop--or I'm done with you." And then Harris himself stopped short. "I don't know what you mean," began Willett, shifting uneasily. "You _do_ know what I mean! You've only to go back to your graduating June, when you were spooning day and night over a society flirt there at the hotel--a married woman at that--and your mantel-shelf was stacked high with unopened, unanswered letters from the poor girl you were engaged to. You were, Willett, in sight of God and man, so don't deny it! And she was telegraphing to me in pity to say was Harold sick--or what. She broke with you, of course, after you broke her heart. And you've been at that sort of thing ever since, unless the Division of the Pacific is a nest of liars--oh, bosh! I don't count Case, though it's like enough he told the truth. But now, Willett, you're _here_! and--what have we to expect at Almy?" "Damn my past all you like, Harris. No man's more ashamed of it than I, but don't damn my future!" And now Willett was on _his_ feet, his eyes snapping, his face aflame. "I was never so earnest in my life. [Small comfort that! thought Harris.] I never knew before what it was to be utterly in earnest. Stop it! Why, man, where have I--or you--ever known a girl like _her_? Stop it! Oh, here, Hefty, I can't talk as I feel. You _must_ see how different this is--how much this means to me! The man doesn't deserve to live that--that could be untrue to a girl like that?" "That's--sound enough," said poor Hefty. "But how long will you hold to it?" "So long as I live, Harris," was the solemn, the surprising answer. "God knows I mean it," and Willett held forth his hand.