"Good-by and good luck, old boy.

If you get out, and you _will_, let the old _Dolphin_ know I'm gone.

And carry on, pal--and always remember the O'Keefe loved you like a brother." I squeezed his hands desperately.

Then out of my balanceshaking woe a strange comfort was born.
"Maybe it's not good-by, Larry!" I cried.

"The banshee has not cried!" A flash of hope passed over his face; the old reckless grin shone forth.
"It's so!" he said.