wore under his shirt? He said it was an heirloom. It looked devilishly like an order of nobility." He referred to an incident in the man's narrative, when the latter had drawn from beneath the blue army blouse what had at first appeared to be a Star of the Bath. It had been solemnly handed to him for inspection, with the information that the trooper's father had also worn it.

It was old. The circular scroll, which at one time had doubtless borne an inscription, was smooth[Pg 12] save for a few dimples which indicated faintly where words had been. The centre was a slightly raised disc about an inch and a quarter in diameter. Upon this, of blue enamel, cracked and chipped with age and usage, was the figure of a lion rampant, a royal crown upon its head. From the central disc, intersected by the scroll, radiated points of equal length, making a star of the whole. Something also had been said about papers. Supposing that Carrick had meant insurance policies, he had paid but passing heed to the allusion.

[Pg 12]

Carter's ideas were growing patchwork, he confessed. He felt he was unable, in his weariness, to sustain much connected thought. The mental trend was all one way, however,—pointing to a desire to escape the enforced ennui, which was sure to be consequent upon his recent exhausting contest. Nor was he particularly anxious to meet any one until he had eased up the terrific pace which his nerves had set him.

Hearing a couple of his friends enter, he determined to wait until they should discover him before he would make his presence known. Aware that no one would choose that room for confidential chats, he had no fear of eavesdropping. As he was yielding to drowsiness the words of one of the men back of him caused him to sit up alertly. It was[Pg 13] Billy Saunderson, one of the pair who had just entered, who was speaking.

[Pg 13]

"I tell you, Lang," Saunderson was saying to Langdon of the Diplomatic Corps,—"I tell you that there'll be war. It isn't going to be any police-clubbed riot this time. It'll be the real thing." Carter felt a personal affront in Langdon's sceptical laugh at this assertion.

"How do you figure that, Saunderson?" the government man queried.

"Immigration statistics of the last ten years prove to any sane man that the natives are returning to their fatherland in unprecedented numbers. Read for yourself." The pause that followed, broken only by the rustling 

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