I wish I were going with you.' 'So do we all, Dickie,' said the Keneu.
'And I most of all,' said the new artist of the Central Southern Syndicate.
'Could you tell me----' 'I'll give you one piece of advice,' Dick answered, moving towards the door.

'If you happen to be cut over the head in a scrimmage, don't guard.
Tell the man to go on cutting.

You'll find it cheapest in the end.
Thanks for letting me look in.' 'There's grit in Dick,' said the Nilghai, an hour later, when the room was emptied of all save the Keneu.
'It was the sacred call of the war-trumpet.

Did you notice how he answered to it?
Poor fellow! Let's look at him,' said the Keneu.
The excitement of the talk had died away.

Dick was sitting by the studio table, with his head on his arms, when the men came in.