The St. Johns’ house stood among lilacs and back from the street by the breadth of a small garden.  In the rear were large grounds, fields, and even woods.  The place had two entrances, one immediately in front of the house for people on foot, and the other, a quarter of a mile distant, for people driving.  This latter, opening from a joyous country lane of blackberry-vines and goldenrod, passed between two prodigious round stones, and S-ed into a dark and stately wood.  Trees, standing gladly where God had set them, made a screen, impenetrable to the eye, between the gateway and the house.

Here Peter and Aladdin halted, while Aladdin sent a coin spinning into the air.

“Heads!” called Peter.

Aladdin let the piece fall to the ground, and they bent over it eagerly.

“After you,” said Peter, for the coin read, “Tails.”

Aladdin picked up the coin, and hurled it far away among the trees.

“That’s our joint sacrifice to the gods, Peter,” he said.

Peter gave him five cents.

“My share,” he said.

“Peter,” said Aladdin, “I will ask her the first chance I get, and if there’s nothing in it for me, I will go away and leave the road clear for you.  Come.”

“No,” said Peter; “you’ve got your chance now.  And here I wait until you send me news.”

“Lord!” said Aladdin, “has it got to be as sudden as this?”

“Let’s get it over,” said Peter.

“Very good,” said Aladdin.  “I’ll go.  But, Peter, whatever happens, I won’t keep you long in suspense.”

“Good man,” said Peter.

Aladdin turned his face to the house like a man measuring a distance.  He drew a deep breath.

“Well—­here goes,” he said, and took two steps.

“Wait, ’Laddin,” said Peter.

Aladdin turned.

“Can I have your pipe?”

“Of course.”

Aladdin turned over his pipe and pouch.  “I’m afraid it’s a little bitter,” he said.

Again he started up the drive; but Peter ran after him.

“’Laddin,” he cried, “wait—­I forgot something.”

Aladdin came back to meet him.

“Aladdin,” said Peter, “I forgot something.”  He held out his hand, and Aladdin squeezed it.

“Aladdin,” said Peter, “from the bottom of my heart I wish you luck.”

When they separated again there were tears in the eyes of both.

Just before the curtain of trees quite closed the view of the gate, Aladdin turned to look at Peter.  Peter sat upon one of the big stones that marked the entrance, smoking and smoking.  He had thrown aside his hat, and his hair shone in the sun.  There was a kind of wistfulness in his poise, and his calm, pure eyes were lifted toward the open sky.  A great hero-worship surged in Aladdin’s heart, and he thought that there was nothing that he would not do for such a friend.  “He gave you your life once,” said a little voice in Aladdin’s heart; “give him his.  He is worth a million of you; don’t stand in his way.”