Mr. Courage is known to have left New York some
months ago, for a hunting trip in the Rockies, and nothing has been heard
of him for some time. No trace has been discovered of his guides,
although his camp and outfit were found close at hand. As no money or
valuables were discovered on the body of the deceased, it is feared that
he has met with foul play."
I think that no man can read his own obituary notice without a shiver.
For a moment I lost my nerve. I cursed the moment when I had met Guest, I
felt an intense, sick hatred of my present occupation and everything
connected with it. I felt myself guilty of this man's death. Guest
listened to my incoherent words gravely. When I had finished he laid his
hand upon nine.
"Gently, Courage," he said. "I knew that this must be a shock to you, but
you must not lose your sense of proportion. Think of the men who have
sacrificed their lives for just causes, remember that you and I to-day,
and from to-day onward, can never be sure that each moment is not our
last. Remember that we are working to save our country from ruin, to save
Europe from a war in which not one life, but a hundred thousand might
perish.
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