"A d——d failure," agreed the General, heartily.
"We've given way to cranks and noisy, shrill-voiced women; to vapouring politicians; to socialism and all the other isms. We had a notion that we could ante-date the millennium and work the scheme of national life according to ideas of equality and uniformity. It can't be done. Experience proves that anomalies work well when logical systems fail. It's a conceited age, a puffed up generation. We are not really wiser than our fathers, though we think we are. Let us try to revert to first principles."
"I'm your man, heart and soul," said General Hartwell, and the two old friends grasped hands across the table.
"I knew you would be!" There was a shine as of tears in the Judge's eyes. "But you and I can't work this thing alone. We must have colleagues; not many, but some, or at least one," and he looked at Linton Herrick.
"I'm with you too, sir," said the young man simply, "show me the way, that's all."
"We three alone at present, with loyal hearts and silent tongues," said Sir Robert, gravely.
"The Three Musketeers!" ventured Linton.
"By Jove, yes," agreed the old officer.
"And we undertake everything that serves the State," added Sir Robert, solemnly. They rose by mutual understanding and clinked their glasses.
"All for one! and one for all!" they cried with one accord.