16 THE GARDEN OF A 



and I trembled for the other person. I saw him 

 clearly as he stepped forward, a man of thirty, 

 slightly built and muscular, with a strong face and a 

 pair of steel-gray eyes that could see through a wall. 



The two men looked each other in the face, the 

 younger gave a quizzical little smile, at me it seemed, 

 waived his claim, and the clatter of selling recom- 

 menced. 



Afterward as we picked our way downstairs in the 

 dusk, father hugging his Dodoens, Gray Eyes was 

 close in front of us, and during a moment's pause 

 father held out his hand and thanked him for his 

 courtesy. In short, the book of contention became 

 the book of introduction, for they instantly found 

 that they had mutual friends. Before a year was 

 out they discovered in truth that they had almost all 

 tastes in common ; they liked the same breed of books, 

 cigars of the same shape and moisture, country life 

 better than that of the city, and finally they agreed 

 that they both loved me; but in this rivalry it was 

 father who stepped aside and Evan was retriever. 



Evan was English born, and like many a younger 

 son of that vigorous race preferred free flight to sit- 

 ting underneath in an overcrowded nest, with no more 

 interesting view before him than that of his elder 

 brother's legs. So, after circling the globe, he settled 



