men and kill him, then I can return to my people, and we can

all live in peace and happiness."

She spoke of killing Buckingham with no greater concern than

one might evince in the contemplated destruction of a sheep;

yet she was neither cruel nor vindictive. In fact, Victory

is a very sweet and womanly woman. But human life is of

small account beyond thirty--a legacy from the bloody days

when thousands of men perished in the trenches between the

rising and the setting of a sun, when they laid them

lengthwise in these same trenches and sprinkled dirt over

them, when the Germans corded their corpses like wood and

set fire to them, when women and children and old men were

butchered, and great passenger ships were torpedoed without

warning.

Thirty-six, finally assured that we did not intend slaying

him, was as keen to accompany us as was Victory.

The crossing to the continent was uneventful, its monotony

being relieved, however, by the childish delight of Victory

and Thirty-six in the novel experience of riding safely upon

the bosom of the water, and of being so far from land.

With the possible exception of Snider, the little party

appeared in the best of spirits, laughing and joking, or

interestedly discussing the possibilities which the future

held for us: what we should find upon the continent, and

whether the inhabitants would be civilized or barbarian

peoples.

Victory asked me to explain the difference between the two,

and when I had tried to do so as clearly as possible, she

broke into a gay little laugh.

"Oh," she cried, "then I am a barbarian!"

I could not but laugh, too, as I admitted that she was,

indeed, a barbarian. She was not offended, taking the

matter as a huge joke. But some time thereafter she sat in

silence, apparently deep in thought. Finally she looked up

at me, her strong white teeth gleaming behind her smiling

lips.