When I look back， I realize what a peculiar friendship itwas. First， there was Lloyd Inwood， tall， slender， and finelyknit， nervous and dark. And then Paul Tichlorne， tall，slender， and finely knit， nervous and blond. Each was thereplica of the other in everything except color. Lloyd’s eyeswere black； Paul’s were blue. Under stress of excitement，the blood coursed olive in the face of Lloyd， crimson inthe face of Paul. But outside this matter of coloring theywere as like as two peas. Both were high-strung， prone toexcessive tension and endurance， and they lived at concertpitch.
But there was a trio involved in this remarkablefriendship， and the third was short， and fat， and chunky，and lazy， and， loath to say， it was I. Paul and Lloyd seemedborn to rivalry with each other， and I to be peacemakerbetween them. We grew up together， the three of us， andfull often have I received the angry blows each intendedfor the other. They were always competing， striving tooutdo each other， and when entered upon some suchstruggle there was no limit either to their endeavors orpassions.
This intense spirit of rivalry obtained in their studiesand their games. If Paul memorized one canto of“Marmion，” Lloyd memorized two cantos， Paul cameback with three， and Lloyd again with four， till each knewthe whole poem by heart. I remember an incident thatoccurred at the swimming hole—an incident tragicallysignificant of the life-struggle between them. The boyshad a game of diving to the bottom of a ten-foot pooland holding on by submerged roots to see who could stayunder the longest. Paul and Lloyd allowed themselves tobe bantered into making the descent together. When Isaw their faces， set and determined， disappear in the wateras they sank swiftly down， I felt a foreboding of somethingdreadful. The moments sped， the ripples died away， theface of the pool grew placid and untroubled， and neitherblack nor golden head broke surface in quest of air. Weabove grew anxious. The longest record of the longestwindedboy had been exceeded， and still there was nosign. Air bubbles trickled slowly upward， showing that thebreath had been expelled from their lungs， and after thatthe bubbles ceased to trickle upward. Each second becameinterminable， and， unable longer to endure the suspense， Iplunged into the water.
I found them down at the bottom， clutching tight tothe roots， their heads not a foot apart， their eyes wideopen， each glaring fixedly at the other. They were sufferingfrightful torment， writhing and twisting in the pangsof voluntary suffocation； for neither would let go andacknowledge himself beaten. I tried to break Paul’s holdon the root， but he resisted me fiercely. Then I lost mybreath and came to the surface， badly scared. I quicklyexplained the situation， and half a dozen of us went downand by main strength tore them loose. By the time we gotthem out， both were unconscious， and it was only aftermuch barrel-rolling and rubbing and pounding that theyfinally came to their senses. They would have drownedthere， had no one rescued them.
When Paul Tichlorne entered college， he let it begenerally understood that he was going in for the socialsciences. Lloyd Inwood， entering at the same time，elected to take the same course. But Paul had had itsecretly in mind all the time to study the natural sciences，specializing on chemistry， and at the last moment heswitched over. Though Lloyd had already arranged hisyear’s work and attended the first lectures， he at oncefollowed Paul’s lead and went in for the natural sciencesand especially for chemistry. Their rivalry soon became anoted thing throughout the university. Each was a spur tothe other， and they went into chemistry deeper than didever students before—so deep， in fact， that ere they tooktheir sheepskins they could have stumped any chemistryor “cow college” professor in the institution， save “old”
Moss， head of the department， and even him they puzzledand edified more than once. Lloyd’s discovery of the “deathbacillus” of the sea toad， and his experiments on it withpotassium cyanide， sent his name and that of his universityringing round the world； nor was Paul a whit behind whenhe succeeded in producing laboratory colloids exhibitingamoeba-like activities， and when he cast new lightupon the processes of fertilization through his startlingexperiments with simple sodium chlorides and magnesiumsolutions on low forms of marine life.
It was in their undergraduate days， however， in the midstof their profoundest plunges into the mysteries of organicchemistry， that Doris Van Benschoten entered into theirlives. Lloyd met her first， but within twenty-four hoursPaul saw to it that he also made her acquaintance. Ofcourse， they fell in love with her， and she became the onlything in life worth living for. They wooed her with equalardor and fire， and so intense became their struggle forher that half the student-body took to wagering wildly onthe result. Even “old” Moss， one day， after an astoundingdemonstration in his private laboratory by Paul， wasguilty to the extent of a month’s salary of backing him tobecome the bridegroom of Doris Van Benschoten.
In the end she solved the problem in her own way， toeverybody’s satisfaction except Paul’s and Lloyd’s. Gettingthem together， she said that she really could not choosebetween them because she loved them both equally well；and that， unfortunately， since polyandry was not permittedin the United States she would be compelled to forego thehonor and happiness of marrying either of them. Eachblamed the other for this lamentable outcome， and thebitterness between them grew more bitter.
But things came to a head enough. It was at my home，after they had taken their degrees and dropped out of theworld’s sight， that the beginning of the end came to pass.