struck a match. His pipe had gone out. 

 "I certainly can't," said Meldon, "if you won't tell me what it is that troubles you." 

 "It's that damned Simpkins," said the Major. 

 "Simpkins may or may not be damned hereafter," said Meldon.  "I offer no opinion on that point until I hear who he is and what he's done. He can't be damned yet, assuming him to be still alive. That's an elementary theological truth which you ought to know; and, in fact, must know. It will be a great deal more satisfactory to me if you use language accurately. Say that 'damnable Simpkins' if you're quite sure he deserves it; but don't call him damned until he is." 

 "He does deserve it." 

 "If he does," said Meldon—"I'm not, of course, certain yet that he does—but if he does, I'll do my best to see that he gets it; but I won't act in the dark. I have a sense of justice and a conscience, and I absolutely decline to persecute and harry a man simply because you don't like him. Who is this Simpkins? Is he any kind of government inspector?" 

 "He's an agent that they've sent down here to manage the Buckley estates." 

 "Well, I don't see anything wrong about that. I suppose there must be an agent. I could understand Doyle objecting to him on the ground of his profession. Doyle is the President of the League, and, of course, he's ex officio obliged to dislike land agents passionately; but I didn't expect you to take that line, Major. You're a loyalist. At least you used to be when I was here, and it's just as plainly your duty to support agents as it is Doyle's to abuse them." 

 "I don't object to him because he's an agent," said Major Kent.  "I object to him because he's a meddlesome ass, and keeps the whole place in continual hot water." 

 "Very well. That's a distinct and definite charge. If you can prove it, I'll take the matter up and deal with the man. Pass the tobacco." 

 Meldon filled and lit his pipe. Then he got up and walked across to Major Kent's writing-table. He chose out a pen, took a quantity of notepaper and a bottle of ink. With them he returned to his armchair and sat down. He put the ink-bottle on the arm of the chair and, crossing his legs, propped the paper on his knee. 

 "Do be careful, J. J.," said the Major.  "You'll certainly upset that ink-bottle, and this is a new carpet." 

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