the Prince imagined them of course to be exactly like the Professor,
and rejoiced that Ivan could be among such studious and book loving,
quiet people. So he told Ivan that he might spend what time he liked
with the Morris family, and then forgot the whole thing in the fearful
question of War which soon arose. When he left for the Russian front
he left orders that in case of any peril or disaster Ivan was to go to
the Morris house and there remain for greater safety.

Before the happenings of the last chapter, however, Ivan had been
almost constantly with Warren for a year, and had so imbibed his
democratic ideas and had studied so hard to make good as a Scout that
Prince Ivan the Magnificent, had he returned, would have had difficulty
in recognizing his only and dearly loved son.

But as a matter of fact, Ivan the Magnificent did not return. Instead,
blood stained, mud stained and distorted, he slept in a far away trench
past which had swept the invaders' line, grim and terrible.

He had fought well and desperately for the honor of Poland until at
last, under a leaden rain, Ivan the Prince had gone to meet the fate of
Ivan the Man. And not one word of this did Ivan the boy suspect.

It had never seemed that harm could touch his wonderful father. He
must be safe; and Ivan moved through his many adventurous days with
only the thought that he would have so much more to tell his father on
one of the rare and precious evenings when Prince Ivan's duties at
court and with his regiment would allow him to spend a few happy hours
with his son.

So it was with a keen and appraising eye that Ivan viewed that dark and