CHAPTER VIII.
A QUESTION OF NERVE "Gentlemen, may I introduce Captain Dunbar, your sky-pilot, padre, chaplain, anything you like?
They say he's a devil of a good preacher.
The Lord knows you need one." So Barry's commanding officer introduced him to the mess.
He bowed in different directions to the group of officers who, in the ante-room of the mess, were having a pre-prandial cocktail.

Barry found a place near the foot of the table and for a few minutes sat silent, getting his bearings.
Some of the officers were known to him.

He had met the commanding officer, Colonel Leighton, a typical, burly Englishman, the owner of an Alberta horse ranch, who, well to do to begin with, had made money during his five years in the country.

He had the reputation of being a sporting man, of easy morality, fond of his glass and of good living.

He owed his present position, partly to political influence, and partly to his previous military experience in the South African war.