Chapter 27 DECENT BURIAL

To-morrow? 'Tis not ours to know

That we again shall see the flowers.

To-morrow is the gods'-but, oh!

To day is ours.

-C.E. Merrill, Jr.

Claiborne called Oscar through the soft dusk of the April evening. The phalanx of stars marched augustly across the heavens. Claiborne lifted his face gratefully to the cool night breeze, for he was