“Eh?  Oh yes!  Right through the jolly old war.”

“What was your rank?”

“Oh, second lieutenant.”

“You ought to have been a general!” Mr. Brewster clasped his hand once more in a vigorous embrace.  “I only hope,” he added “that your son will be like you!”

There are certain compliments, or compliments coming from certain sources, before which modesty reels, stunned.  Archie’s did.

He swallowed convulsively.  He had never thought to hear these words from Daniel Brewster.

“How would it be, old thing,” he said almost brokenly, “if you and I trickled down to the bar and had a spot of sherbet?”

The end