It _is_ good to see somebody of one's own caste again." A few moments later, Selwyn and Gerald in their oilskins were dashing eastward along the coast in the swiftest motor-boat south of the Narrows.
* * * * * The boy seemed deathly tired as they crossed the dim lawn at Silverside.
Once, on the veranda steps he stumbled, and Selwyn's arm sustained him; but the older man forbore to question him, and Gerald, tight-lipped and haggard, offered no confidence until, at the door of his bedroom, he turned and laid an unsteady hand on Selwyn's shoulder: "I want to talk with you--to-morrow.

May I ?" "You know you may, Gerald.

I am always ready to stand your friend." "I know.

.

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