have every right to it."

"No, Jack, I have no right to it," answered Dru, "but certain as I am
that I am doing the only thing I could do, under the circumstances, it's
a hard wrench to leave the Army, even though I had come to think that I
can find my place in the world out of the service."

The depression was not shaken off until after they had reached New York,
and Philip had been told by the great specialist that his eyesight
probably never again would pass the Army tests. Once convinced that an
Army career was impossible, he resigned, and began to reconstruct his
life with new hope and with a new enthusiasm. While he was ordered to
give his eyes complete rest for at least six months and remain a part
of every day in a darkened room, he was promised that after several
months, he probably would be able to read and write a little.

As he had no relatives in New York, Philip, after some hesitation,
accepted Jack Strawn's insistent invitation to visit him for a time, at
least. Through the long days and weeks that followed, the former young
officer and Gloria were thrown much together.

One afternoon as they were sitting in a park, a pallid child of ten
asked to "shine" their shoes. In sympathy they allowed him to do it. The
little fellow had a gaunt and hungry look and his movements were very
sluggish. He said his name was Peter Turner and he gave some squalid
east side tenement district as his home. He said that his father was
dead, his mother was bedridden, and he, the oldest of three children,
was the only support of the family. He got up at five and prepared their
simple meal, and did what he could towards making his mother comfortable
for the day. By six he left the one room that sheltered them, and