“Six hours you’ve been at it,” remarked Lorimer, as the car swung away under Richard’s hand.  “It makes me fatigued all over to contemplate such zeal.”

“Tell that to the men who really work.  I’m getting off easy, to cut and run at the end of six hours.”

“Rich—­” began his friend, then he paused.  “By the Lord Harry, I’d like to know what’s got you.  I can’t make you and the old Rich fit together at all.  You and your books—­you and your music—­and your pictures—­your polo—­your ’wine, women, and song’—­”

“Take that last back,” commanded Richard Kendrick, with sudden heat.  “You know I’ve never gone in for that sort of thing, except as all our old crowd went in together.  Personally, I haven’t cared for it, and you know it.  It’s travel and adventure I’ve cared for—­”

“And that you’re throwing over now for a country shop.”

“That I’m throwing over now to learn the ABC in the training school of responsibility for the big load that’s to come on my shoulders.  I’ve been asleep all these years.  Thank Heaven I’ve waked up in time.  It’s no merit of mine—­”

“Mind telling me whose it is, then?”

“I should mind, very much—­if you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh—­beg pardon,” drawled Lorimer.

Silence followed for a brief space, broken by Richard’s voice, in its old, genial tone.

“Tell me more about the cruise.  It’s great that you can have your father’s yacht.  I thought he always used it through the summer.”

“He’s gone daffy on monoplanes—­absolutely daffy.  Can’t see anything else.”

“I don’t blame him.  I might have gone in for aviation myself, if I hadn’t got this bigger game on my hands.”

“Bigger—­there you go again!  Well, every man to his taste.  The governor’s lost interest in the Ariel—­let me have her without a reservation as to time limit.  Don’t care for flying myself.  Necessary to sit up.  Like to lie on my back too well for that.”

“You do yourself injustice.”

“Now, now—­don’t preach.  I’ve been expecting it.”

“You needn’t.  I’m too busy with my own case to attend to yours.”

“Lucky for me.  I feel you’d be a zealous preacher if you ever got started.”

“What route do you expect to take?” pursued Richard, steering away from dangerous ground.

Lorimer outlined it, in his most languid manner.  One would have thought he had little real interest in his plan, after all.

“It’s great!  You’ll have the time of your life!”

“I might have had.”

“You will have—­you can’t help it.”

“Not without the man I want in the bunk next mine,” said Belden Lorimer, gazing through half-shut eyes at nothing in particular.

Richard experienced the severest pang of regret he had yet known.

“If that’s true, old Lorry,” said he slowly, “I’m sorrier than I can tell you.”

“Then—­come along!” Lorimer looked waked up at last.  He laid a persuasive hand on Richard’s arm.