| Jean Morley | [ Frontispiece] |
| FACING PAGE | |
| “Men who work with their hands—these things!” | [ 322] |
| “There was a dull sound as of a blow struck” | [ 422] |
| “Ghosts, the ghosts of dead soldiers” | [ 442] |
THE LORDS OF HIGH DECISION
The Lords of High Decision
CHAPTER I
THE FACE IN THE LOCKET
AS Mrs. John McCandless Blair entered the house her brother, Wayne Craighill, met her in the hall. The clock on the stair landing was striking seven.
“On time, Fanny? How did it ever happen?” he demanded as she caught his hands and peered into his face. He blinked under her scrutiny; she always gave him this sharp glance when they met,—and its significance was not wasted on him; but she was satisfied and kissed him, and then, as he took her wrap:
“For heaven’s sake what’s up, Wayne? Father was ominously solemn in telephoning me to come over. John’s dining at the Club—I think father wants to see us alone.”
“It rather looks that way, Fanny,” replied Wayne, laughing at his sister’s earnestness.
“Well, is he going to do it at last?”
“There’s no use kicking if he is, so be prepared for the worst.”