A WOUNDED NAME

 BY

 CAPTAIN CHARLES KING U. S. A. 

 [Illustration: CAPT. CHARLES KING]

 AUTHOR OF

 "Warrior Gap, " "An Army Wife, " "Fort Frayne, " "A Garrison Tangle, " "Noble Blood and a West Point Parallel, " "Trumpeter Fred, " etc. 

 "Poor wounded name! My bosom as a bed Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly healed. "

 --_Two Gentlemen of Verona_

 F. TENNYSON NEELY, PUBLISHER, LONDON. NEW YORK. 

 Copyrighted, 1898. 

 by

 F. TENNYSON NEELY

 In the United States and Great Britain

 (All rights reserved)

 * * * * *

A WOUNDED NAME. 

CHAPTER I. 

The stage coach was invisible in a cloud of its own dust as it lurchedand rolled along the alkali flats down the valley, and Sancho, theranch-keeper, could not make out whether any passengers were on top ornot. He had brought a fine binocular to bear just as soon as the shrillvoice of Pedro, a swarthy little scamp of a half-breed, announced thedust-cloud sailing over the clump of willows below the bend. Pedro wasnot the youngster's original name, and so far as could be determined byecclesiastical records, owing to the omission of the customary churchceremonies, he bore none that the chaplain at old Camp Cooke would admitto be Christian. Itinerant prospectors and occasional soldiers, however, had suggested a change from the original, or aboriginal, title whichwas heathenish in the last degree, to the much briefer one of Pedro, asfitting accompaniment to that of the illustrious head of theestablishment, and Lieutenant Blake, an infantry sub with cavalryaspirations which had led him to seek arduous duties in this arid land, had comprehensively damned the pretensions of the place to being a"dinner ranch, " by declaring that a shop that held Sancho and Pedro anddidn't have game was unworthy of patronage. Sancho had additionalreasons for disapproving of Blake. That fine binocular, to begin with, bore the brand of Uncle Sam, for which reason it was never in evidencewhen an officer or soldier happened along. It had been abstracted fromBlake's signal kit, when he was scouting the Dragoon Mountains, andswapped for the vilest liquor under the sun, at Sancho's, of course, andthe value of the glass, not of the whisky, was stopped against the longlieutenant's pay, leaving him, as he ruefully put it, "short enough atthe end of the month. " Somebody told Blake he would find his binocularat Sancho's, and Blake instituted inquiries after his own peculiarfashion the very next time he happened along that way. 

"Here, you Castilian castaway, " said he, as he alighted at Sancho'sdoor, "I am told you have stolen property in the shape of my signalglass. Hand it over instanter!"

And Sancho, bowing with the grace of a grandee of Spain, had assured theSeñor Teniente that everything within his gates was at his service, without money and without price, had promptly fetched from an adjoiningroom a battered old double-barreled lorgnette, that looked as though itmight have been dropped in the desert by Kearny or Fauntleroy, or someof the dragoons who made the burning march before the Gadsden purchaseof 1853 made us possessors of more desert sand and desolate range thanwe have ever known what to do with. 

"This thing came out of the ark, " said Blake, rightfully wrathful. "WhatI want is the signal glass that deserter sold you for whisky lastChristmas. "

Whereat Sancho called on all the saints in the Spanish calendar to bearwitness to his innocence, and bade the teniente search the premises. 

"He's got it in that bedroom yonder, " whispered old Sergeant Feeney, "and I know it, sir. "

And Blake, striding to the door in response to the half-challenge, half-invitation of the gravely courteous cutthroat owner, stopped shortat the threshold, stared, whipped off his scouting hat, and, bowing low, said: "I beg your pardon, señora, señorita; I did not know--" andretired in much disorder. 

"Why didn't you tell me your family had come, you disreputable old rip?"demanded he, two minutes later, "or is that too--stolen property?"

"It is the wife of my brother and his daughter, " responded the ranchmanwith unruffled suavity. 

Nothing could equal Sancho's equanimity in the presence of those hedesired to placate; nothing exceed the frenzy of his wrath when angeredby those whom he could harm without fear of reprisals. Blake was backedby a troop of horse and the conviction that Sancho was an unmitigatedrascal; therefore were his palpable allusions to be accepted as merepleasantries or deprecated as unmerited injustice. Blake had blackenedthe character of the ranch _cuisine_, even if he had been unequal to thetask of blackening that of the owner. Blake had declared Sancho'shomestead to be a den of thieves, and the repast tendered the stagepassengers a Barmecide feast--the purport of which was duly reported toSancho, who declared he would ultimately carve his opinion of Blake onthat officer's elongated carcass, and until he could find opportunity soto do it behooved him to lull the suspicions of the prospective victimby elaborate courtesy of manner, and of this is the Spaniard or hisMexican half-brother consummate master. Blake left without a glimpse ofhis glass, but not without another of "the daughter of my brother" butrecently arrived, and that peep made him desirous of a third. Ridingaway, he waved his hand. 

"_Adios_, Sancho; _hasta otra vista!_" he had hailed, but his gazesought the little window in the adobe wall where a pair of dark, languorous eyes peered out from between the parted curtains and a duskyface dodged out of view the instant it saw it was seen. What Sancho saidin answer is not recorded, but now he was watching the coming of thestage from Yuma. Some one had warned him Lieutenant Blake would returnthat way, ordered back to the old post to the north as witness before animportant court-martial. 

Those were later termed "the days of the Empire" in Arizona. Perhapsfive thousand souls were counted within its borders at the time ourstory opens, not counting the soulless Apaches. Arizona had thecustomary territorial equipment of a governor, certain otherofficials constituting the cabinet, and a secretary. Nine menout of the dozen Americans in the only approach to a town it thenpossessed--Tucson--would have said "Damfino" if asked who was thesecretary, but all men knew the sheriff. The grave, cigarro-smoking, serape-shrouded caballeros who rode at will through the plaza and ogleddark-eyed maidens peeping from their barred windows, could harbor nointerest in the question of who was president of the United States, butthe name of the post commander at Grant, Lowell or Crittenden was ahousehold word, and in the eyes of the populace the second lieutenantcommanding the paymaster's escort was illimitably "a bigger man" thanthe thrice distinguished soldier and citizen whose sole monument, up tothat time, was the flagstaff at the adobe corral and barracks sacred tohis name. Mr. Blake had never been in such a God-forsaken country orcommunity before, but there was something in the utter isolation, thefar-stretching waste of shimmering sand, the desolate mountain rangessharply outlined, hostile and forbidding, the springless, streamless, verdureless plains of this stricken land, that harmonized with thesomewhat savage and cynical humor in which he had sought service in themost intolerable clime then open to the troops of Uncle Sam. Blake hadbeen jilted and took it bitterly to heart. Wearing the willow himself, he cherished it as the only green and growing thing in the Gila valley;whereas, had he sought sympathy he would have found other younggentlemen similarly decorated, and therefore as content as he to spendthe months or possibly years of their embittered life just as far fromthe madding crowd and, as Blake cynically put it, "as near hell. " Blakewas a man of distinction, as relatives went, and those were days whenfriends at court had more to do with a fellow's sphere of duty--verymuch more--than had the regimental commander or even theadjutant-general. Blake took Arizona in preference to a tour in thesignal office at Washington. He wanted to get as far away from thenational capital and the favorite haunt of "the Army and Navy forever"as he possibly could. It was the most natural thing in the world to himthat he should ask for duty in the land of deserts, centipedes, rattlesnakes, and Apaches. He put it on the ground of serious bronchialtrouble which could be cured only in a dry climate, but the war officeknew as well as the navy department that it was an affair of the heartand not of the throat. He wasn't the first man, by any manner of means, to fall in love with Madeleine Torrance, the prettiest girl and mostunprincipled flirt that ever wore the navy button or tormented a sailorfather. Blake sought the roughest duty--that of escorting inspectors, staff officers or paymasters on their wearisome trips through thewilderness--and no one denied him. The cavalry was short of officers andhe got assigned to Sanford's troop, and the biggest surprise that hadcome since his commission met him one day at Gila Bend, when that sameold red stage, a relic of California days, emerged from the dust-cloudof its own manufacture, and a quiet youth in pepper-and-salt andsand-colored costume, looked up from behind a pair of green gogglessaying:

"Hullo, Blake!"

It was the voice, not the face, that the tall trooper recognized. 

"Well--of--all--the--Why, what in the name of Pegasus brings you here, Loring? I thought you had graduated into the engineers. "

"Fact, " said the newcomer sententiously. 

"Well, what's an engineer doing in Arizona? I'd as soon look to see anarchbishop. "

"Scouting, " said the dust-colored man. "Where's dinner?"

"In the shack yonder, if your stomach's copper-lined. Better come overto my camp and take pot-luck there. "

Which Loring gladly did, and then went on his dusty way, leaving Blakewith something to think of beside his own woes. Within half a year ofhis graduation from West Point the young engineer, one of the stars ofhis class, had been ordered to report to the general commanding theDivision of the Pacific and was set to work on a military map in thatgeneral's office. Loring found all maps of Arizona to be vague andincomplete, and was ordered forthwith to go to the territory and gatherin the needed data. That he, too, should be lass-lorn never for a momentoccurred to his comrade of the line. Had such facts been confessedamong the exiles of those days many a comradeship of the far frontierwould have been strengthened. That the girl who duped Gerald Blakeshould have been known to her who had captivated Mr. Loring wassuspected by neither officer at the time, and that, despite the effortsand the resolution of both men, both women were destined to reappearupon the stage, and temporarily, at least, reassume their sway, wassomething neither soldier would have admitted possible. Yet strangerthings had happened, and stranger still were destined to happen, and thefirst step in the drama was taken within the fortnight of this chancemeeting at Gila Bend. 

Sancho, studying the coming stage with Blake's binocular until it doveinto the arroyo five hundred yards to the west, handed that costlyinstrument to the silent, dumpy, dark-skinned woman who stood patientlyat his side, and said briefly, "_Dos_" at which she vanished, and afterrestoring the glass to its hiding-place in her bedroom, was hearduplifting a shrill, raucous voice at the back of the house, orderingdinner to be ready for two. When the vehicle came rattling up to thedoor Sancho stood at his threshold, the old lorgnette in hand, bowingprofoundly as two travelers, officers of the army apparently, emerged intheir dusters and stiffly alighted. 

"Have any letters or dispatches been left here for me?" asked in quiettone the elder of the two, limping slightly as he advanced, leaving tohis comrade the responsibility of seeing that none of their luggage hadbeen jolted out of the rickety vehicle. One or two hangers-on camelanguidly, yet inquisitively, within earshot. 

For answer the ranch-keeper, with another elaborate bow, produced abulky official envelope. The officer hastily glanced at thesuperscription, said "This is for me, " strode within the adobe-walledcorral, halted under a screen of brown canvas, and there tore open thepacket. Several personal letters fell to the ground, but he at firstpaid little heed to them. Rapidly his eyes ran over a sheet ofclosely-written matter, then he turned to the silent and ceremoniousranchman. 

"When did this come?" he asked. 

"At sunset yesterday, Señor Comandante. "

"Where's the courier?"

"He returned before dawn to-day. "

The loungers drew still nearer as the senior calmly turned to hiscompanion, who, having assured himself that their _impedimenta_ were allsafe, came with quick, springy step to join him. 

"Where do you suppose Blake and his detachment to be at this moment, Loring?"

"Perhaps thirty miles ahead, sir; over toward Maricopa. Do you need him, colonel?"

"Yes, and at once. Our bird has flown. In other words, Nevins hasskipped. "

CHAPTER II. 

Just what an officer's actual rank might be in the days that followedclose on the heels of the war was a matter no man could tell from eitherhis dress or address. Few indeed were they who escaped the deluge ofbrevets that poured over the army and soaked some men six deep. Therewere well-authenticated cases of well-preserved persons who had never somuch as seen a battle, and were yet, on one pretext or another, brevetted away up among the stars for "faithful and meritoriousservices" recruiting, mustering or disbursing. We had colonels by titlewhose functions were purely those of the file-closer. We had generals bybrevet who had never set squadron in the field and didn't know thedifference between a pole yoke and a pedometer. Every captain, exceptone or two who had laughingly declined, wore the straps of fieldofficers, some few even of generals, and so when one heard amilitary-looking man addressed as colonel the chances were ten to onethat he was drawing only the stipend of a company officer, and inmatters of actual rank in the army it was money that talked. 

But there could be no questioning the right of the senior of the twoofficers who had alighted at Sancho's to the title of colonel. Soldierstood out all over him, even though his garb was concealed by anondescript duster. His face, lined, thin-lipped and resolute, wastanned by desert suns and winds. His hair, once brown, was almost white. His beard, once flowing and silky, was cropped to a gray stubble. Hissteely blue eyes snapped under their heavy thatch, his head was carriedhigh and well back, and his soft felt hat, wide-brimmed, was pulled downover the brows. His deep chest, square shoulders, erect carriage andstraight muscular legs all told of days and years in the field, andevery word he uttered had about it the crisp, clear-cut ring of command. It was safe to bet that no mere company was the extent of this soldiersauthority, and Sancho, keen observer, had put him down for alieutenant-colonel at least. Full colonels were mostly older men, andArizona had but one in "the days of the Empire. "

The ranchman had eagerly whispered questions to the loungers as to theidentity of the two arrivals, but without success. Both were strangers, although the junior had been seen at the ranch once before, the dayBlake's troop was camped there on the way back from the Dragoons. Therewas the packet left by the orderly to be called for by officers arrivingon the Yuma stage, addressed in clerkly hand, but Sancho, alas! couldnot read. Hovering as near as the gravity and dignity of his stationwould permit, he had heard the colonel's query about Blake. He prickedup his ears at once. Teniente Blake! Thirty miles east on the Maricoparoad! Why, how was this? Some one had told him Blake had been to theColorado and was coming back by this very stage. How did Blake get tothe east of Sancho's ranch, after having once gone west, withoutSancho's knowing it? Suspiciously he watched the two soldiers, thegrizzled colonel, the slim lieutenant. They were talking together in lowtones, at least the colonel was talking, eagerly, energetically, andwith much gesticulation. The junior listened wordless to every word. What had he meant by "the bird had flown?" Why should Nevins "skip?" Anunpleasant fear seized upon Sancho. He knew Nevins, at least a Nevins, acaptain whom everybody knew, in fact, and few men trusted. What hadNevins been doing? or rather, what that he had been doing was he to beheld to account for? Why should the colonel so eagerly ask where theycould reach Blake? Time was when Sancho flattered himself that there wasno deviltry going on in Arizona, except such as originated with theIndians, in which he had not at least the participation of fullknowledge, yet here came two officials, hastening by stage instead ofmarching with military deliberation and escort, and they were in questof the Señor Capitan Nevins of whom all men had heard and at whosehands many had suffered, for was not he a player whom the very cardsseemed to obey? Was it not he who broke the bank at Bustamente's duringthe _fiesta_ at Tucson but five months agone? Was it not Nevins who wonall the money those two young tenientes possessed--two boys from the farEast just joining their regiment and haplessly falling into the hands ofthis dashing, dapper, wholesouled, hospitable comrade who made histemporary quarters their home until they could find opportunity to goforward to the distant posts where their respective companies werestationed? Was it not Nevins who, right there at Sancho's ranch, findinga party of prospectors, several ex-Confederate soldiers among them, languidly staking silver at the monte table presided over by Sancho'sown brother, had calmly opened a faro "layout" and enticed every manfrom the legitimate game and every peso from their pockets before thetwo-day's session was finished? Well did Sancho recall his own wrath andthat of his brother at this unlicensed interference with their specialbusiness, and the surprising liberality, too, with which the SeñorCapitan had silenced their remonstrance. Rascal though he was, Sanchohad sense enough to know that such proceedings were not seemly in a manbearing the commission of an officer. But Sancho little knew how many acongressman along at the close of the war, finding himself compelled toprovide some kind of living for political "heelers, " or some impersonalreward for services rendered, had foisted his henchmen into the army, then being enlarged and reorganized, and Nevins was one of the resultsof the iniquitous system. 

Commissioned a first lieutenant of a regiment that had had a proudrecord in the regular division of the Army of the Potomac, and had beenhurried at the close of the war to the Pacific coast, Nevins had joinedat Fort Yuma and served a few weeks' apprenticeship as a file-closer, just long enough to demonstrate that he knew nothing whatever aboutsoldiering and too much about poker. All his seniors in grade, exceptthe West Pointers graduated in '65, had brevets for war service, andNevins' sponsor was appealed to to rectify the omission in thelieutenant's case. Nevins had held a commission in a volunteer regimentin the defenses of Washington the last few months of the war, and thatwas found amply sufficient, when a prominent member of the committee onmilitary affairs demanded it, to warrant the bestowal of a brevet for"gallant and meritorious services. " Hence came the title of captain. Then, as company duty proved irksome, and Nevins' company and postcommander both began to stir him up for his manifold negligences andignorances, the aid of his patron in congress was again invoked. Acrippled veteran who could do no field service was in charge of a supplycamp for scouting parties, escorts, detachments, etc. , and, to the wrathof the regimental officers, this veteran was relieved and Lieutenant andBrevet-Captain Nevins by department orders was detailed in his place. This made him independent of almost everybody, beside placing in hishands large quantities of commissary and quartermaster stores whichwere worth far more to the miner, prospector and teamster than theirinvoice price. The stories that began to come into Yuma and DrumBarracks, and other old-time stations, of the "high jinks" going on dayand night at Nevins' camp, the orders for liquors, cigars and suppliesreceived at San Francisco and filled by every stage or steamer, thelavish entertainment accorded to officers of any grade and to wayfarerswith any sign of money, the complaints of victims who had been fleeced, the gloomy silence of certain fledgling subalterns after brief visits at"Camp Ochre, " as Blake had dubbed it, all pointed significantly to butone conclusion, that, so far from living on his pay, Nevins wasgormandizing on that of everybody else, and doubtless "raising the wind"in other ways at the expense of Uncle Sam. Even in Arizona in the daysof the Empire it could not last forever. Easy come, easy go. Nevins hadlavishly spent what was so lightly won. Tucson and Yuma City were withineasy stage ride, even San Francisco had twice been found accessible. Dashing associates of both sexes were ever at hand. The sudden turn ofthe tide came with the order that broke up the supply camp, required himto turn over his funds and stores to the quartermaster at Camp Cooke, and report for duty in person at that post. Then came the expecteddiscovery of grievous shortages in both funds and property, the orderfor the arrest of the delinquent officer and his trial by court-martial. Colonel Turnbull, inspector-general of the department, was hurried outfrom the shores of the Pacific to sit as one of the senior members ofthe court. Lieutenant Loring, vainly striving along the Gila to findsome resemblance between its tracing on a government map and itsmeanderings through the desert, was selected to perform the duties ofjudge advocate. The court was authorized to sit without regard to hours, and to sift the official career of the _protégé_ of the house committeeof military affairs without regard to consequence, when that volatileand accused person took matters into his own hands, and between thesetting and rising of the sun, disappeared from the brush, canvas andadobe shelters of old Camp Cooke and left for parts unknown, taking withhim the best horse in the commanding officer's stable, and, as geniushas ever its followers, the admiration if not the regard of much of thegarrison. 

But other followers were needed at once. "That man must be caught at anycost, Loring, " said the colonel. "No one begins to know the extent ofhis rascalities, and you and Blake must catch him. "

For answer the engineer took out his watch--it was just a quarter toone--stepped out into the glare of the sunshine and gazed to the farhorizon. The plain to the east was flat as a board for many a mile andwell nigh as barren. Then he turned sharply on Sancho. "Dinner ready?"he asked. 

"In one--two minutes, Señor Capitan, " responded the ranchman gravely, conferring on the officer the brevet of courtesy. 

Out in front of the ranch the old red stage, long since faded to a duncolor, stood baking in the burning rays. The mules had been taken intothe corral for water, fodder and shade. The driver was regaling himselfwithin the bar. The few loungers, smoking, but silent, seemed dozing thenoontide away. Loring stepped to the side of the vehicle and drew fortha leather valise, swung it to his shoulder and strode back to where thecolonel stood pondering under the canvas screen. 

"Good hefting power in that right arm of his, " muttered one of theloungers to a mate sprawled full length on the sand beneath the shelterof the tent fly, and watching the officer from under his half-closedlids. A grunt of assent was the only reply. 

"Know what regiment he belongs to?" queried number one. 

"No, but it's cavalry, " was the murmured answer. "Saw him straddling abroncho at Maricopa Wells last week. He knows how. "

Somewhere within the ranch a triangle began to jangle. "_Quim-a-do!_"shrilled little Pete, and three or four lazy, drowsing forms beganslowly to get to their feet and to shuffle away toward the doorlessaperture in the adobe wall, the entrance to the dining-room of the stageand ranch people. Two men lingered, the two who were speculating as tothe military connections of the young officer. One of them, after aquiet glance about the neighborhood, strolled out toward the stage, hands deep in the pockets of his wide trousers. There he seemed casuallyto repeat his leisurely survey of the surroundings, then he loungedback. 

"No go, " said he, in low tones, "both of 'em there yet. Young fellerchanging his dress. Their dinner's ready though. The colonel's writing. "

Presently Sancho, grave and deliberate as became his race, emerged fromthe shadows of the bar and came close before he spoke. 

"He goes to ride--that youth. Know you whither? And he has no horse. "

And, as though to confirm this statement, with his quick, elastic step, Loring came forth to the side gate, dumped his valise into the stage, turned and looked keenly over the group, then as quickly approachedthem. He had discarded his linen coat and trousers in favor of a pairof brown cord breeches with Hualpai leggings and light spurs. A broadbelt with knife and revolver was buckled to his waist. A silkhandkerchief was loosely knotted at his throat. A light-colored felt hatwas pulled down to his eyebrows, and dust-colored gantlets were drawnupon his hands. "Sancho, " said he, "have that roan of yours saddled inten minutes. How much if I keep him a week?"

"Everything in my house is at the service of the Señor Capitan, " beganSancho grandiloquently, "but as to that horse----"

"No other will do. How much a week? though I may keep him only a day. "

"Señor, he is the horse of my brother, and my brother is not here. Ifharm should come----"

"Full value will be paid. Here!" and a glittering gold piece, a doubleeagle, flashed in the sun. "Waste no talk now. Take this and saddlehim. "

Slowly, gingerly, with thumb and finger tips the ranchman plucked thecoin from the open and extended palm, then bowed with the same nativegrace and gravity. 

"Come, Loring, " growled the colonel impatiently, "dinner, " and Sanchocaught the name. 

"The Señor Loreeng--will not ride him hard--or far? It is to the camp ofthe major he goes?"

But, turning on his heel, not another word would Loring say. Ten minuteslater, his hunger appeased with bacon, _frijoles_ and chocolate, hemounted and rode quietly away eastward until Sancho's ranch was twomiles behind, then gave the roan both rein and spur and sped like thewind up the Gila, two of Sancho's oldest customers vainly lashing on histrail. 

CHAPTER III. 

Three days later, just at sundown, the loungers at Sancho's were treatedto a sensation. Up from the south--the old Tucson trail--came, dusty, travel-stained and weary, half a troop of cavalry, escorting, apparently, some personage of distinction, for he was an object of theutmost care and attention on part of the lieutenant commanding and everyman in the detachment. As the cavalcade approached the dun-colored wallsof the corral and, without a word or sign to the knot of curiousspectators gathered at the bar-room door, filed away to the spot wherewandering commands of horse were accustomed to bivouac for the night(tents would have been superfluous in that dry, dewless atmosphere), thewomen whispering together behind their screened window place, stared theharder at sight of the leaders. One was Lieutenant Blake--no mistakinghim, the longest legged man in Arizona. Another was big Sergeant Feeney, a veteran who bad seen better days and duties, but served his flag inthe deserts of the Gila as sturdily as ever he fought along theShenandoah three years before. Between these two, dapper, slender, natty, with his hat set jauntily on one side and his mustache andimperial twirled to the proportions of toothpicks, rode a third cavalierwhom every one recognized instantly as the fugitive of Camp Cooke, theurgently-sought Captain Nevins. And, though Nevins' arms and legs wereuntrammeled by shackles of any kind, it was plain to see that he was ahelpless prisoner. He had parted with his belt and revolver. His spurswere ravished from his heels, and his bridle-rein, cut in two, wasshared between Blake and his faithful sergeant. Behind these three rodeanother set. Sandwiched between two troopers was a man whom Sancho'speople well remembered as Nevins' clerk and assistant, despite the factthat a bushy beard now covered the face that was smooth-shaven in thehalcyon days of the supply camp. Then came some thirty horsemen in long, straggling column of twos, while, straight from the flank to the gate ofthe corral, silent and even somber, rode the engineer, LieutenantLoring. To him Sancho whipped off his silver-laced sombrero and bowed, while two jaded-looking _vaqueros_, after one long yet furtive stare, glanced quickly at each other and sidled away to the nearest aperture inthe wall of the ranch, which happened to be the dining-room door. Loringmechanically touched his hat-brim in recognition of the ranch-keeper'sobeisance, but there was no liking in his eye. At the gate he slowly, somewhat stiffly, dismounted, for it was evident he had ridden long andfar. The roan with hanging head tripped eagerly, yet wearily, to hisaccustomed stall, and a swarthy Mexican unloosed at once the _cincha_and removed the horsehair bridle. Thus Sancho and the engineer were leftby themselves, though inquisitive ranch folk sauntered to the gatewayand peered after them into the corral. Over at the little clump ofwillows Blake's men were throwing their carbines across their shouldersand dismounting as they reached the old familiar spot, and Loring castone look thither before he spoke. 

"Who were the two men who followed me?" he calmly asked, and his eyes, though red-rimmed and inflamed by the dust of the desert, lookedstraight into the dark face of the aggrieved Sancho. 

"Surely I know not, Señor Teniente"--he had dropped the "capitan" as tootransparent flattery. 

"Don't lie, Sancho. There's ten more dollars, " and Loring tossed aneagle into the ready palm. "That's thirty, and I shall want that horseagain in the morning. "

"To-morrow, señor! Why, he will not be fit to go. "

But to this observation Mr. Loring made no reply. Straight from Sancho'sside he walked down the corral, halted behind two rangy, hard-lookingsteeds that showed still the effects of recent severe usage, and thesehe studied coolly and thoroughly a few minutes, while peering from twonarrow slits in the ranch wall between the windows two sun-tannedfrontiersmen as closely studied him. With these latter, peeping from theshaded window, was "the wife of my brother, " exchanging with themcomments in low, guarded tones. In the adjoining room, a bedroom, a girlof perhaps sixteen, slender, graceful and dark-eyed, peeped in theopposite direction, over toward the willows where Blake's men were nowunsaddling--whence presently, with giant strides came Blake himself, stalking over the sand. Sancho, despite his anxious scrutiny of Loring'ssilent movements, saw the coming officer and prepared his countenancefor smiles. But with a face set and forbidding Blake went sternly by, taking no notice of the proprietor, and made directly for the littlegroup now muttering at the dining-room door. The loungers, some of whomhad deserted the supper-table for a sight of the captives and thecavalcade, sidled right and left as though to avoid his eye, for intoeach face, most of them hang-dog visages, he gazed sharply as though insearch of some one, yet never faltered in his stride. Back from herbarred window shrank the young girl as the tall soldier came within adozen paces. To one side or another, smoke inhaling, and striving tolook unconcerned, edged the swarthy constituents of the group, and withnever a word to one of them, straight through their midst and thedoorway beyond went Blake, catching the three peepers, "the wife of mybrother" and the brace of palpable cutthroats at their loopholes. Sounexpected was the move that it had not even occurred to one of thecreatures at the door to mutter a word of warning. So engrossed were thethree in their scrutiny that Blake's entrance was unheard. True, he haddiscarded boots and spurs, and his feet were encased in soft Apachemoccasins. The floor, too, was earthen, but he had made no effort atstealth, and in the gloom and shadow of the low-roofed room it was for amoment difficult to distinguish the human figures against the oppositewall. It was his ear that first gave warning, for low, yet distinct, heheard the words:

"If he'd taken any horse but that roan--or knew less about riding--we'd'a caught him twenty miles out, and they'd never 'a caught Nevins. Dash, dash the whole dashed blue-bellied outfit, and be dash, dash, dashed totheir quadruple dashed souls!" and the concentrated spite and hatred ofthe speaker hissed in every syllable. 

"'Taint a question of what we couldn't do. What _can_ we do? He's gotmoney and plenty of it _cached_ somewhere about the old camp, and fivehundred dollars of it's mine. That's what I want. I don't care a damnwhat they do with him so long as they don't send him to prison where wecan't nail him. That's what that bloody court will do though, an' I knowit. "

"How d'ye know?" fiercely demanded the other; "'nless you've been in thearmy--which you swear you haven't. Where'd you desert from? Come, own upnow, " and, turning for an instant from his peephole, the speaker becamesuddenly aware of the silent form of Lieutenant Blake. 

"None of your dashed business, " began the other, when a harsh "Shut up!"brought him around in amaze and he, too, confronted the dark figurestanding like a sign post between them and the violet light beyond theopen doorway. Instinctively the hands of both men sought theirpistol-butts, but Blake made never a move. The woman, looking around forthe cause of the sudden silence, caught sight of the statuesque intruderand, with a low cry, threw her shawl over her head and, bending almostdouble, with outstretched, groping hands, scurried to where themission-made blanket hung at the doorway of the bedroom and dartedthrough the aperture like a rabbit to its form, the folds of the heavywool falling behind her. 

And still the tall lieutenant neither spoke nor moved. His revolver hungat his right hip, his hunting-knife slept in its sheath, but his handssat jauntily on his thighs. The stern, set look of his clear-cut facehad given place to something like a grin of amusement. First at one, then at the other, of the two bewildered worthies he gazed, looking eachdeliberately from head to foot as they hovered there, both irresoluteand disconcerted, one of them visibly trembling. There was a doorwayleading into the room in which was set the table for stage passengers ofthe better class, officers and the few ladies who had ventured to followtheir lords into far-away Arizona, or the _gente fine_, which includedAmazons whose money could pay their way pretty much anywhere and wasmade pretty much anyhow. But that room was empty and the one beyond it, the bar, had only one or two occupants, too far away to see what wasgoing on. There was a doorway and a swinging screen of dirty canvas justbeyond the loophole lately occupied by "the wife of my brother, " adoorway that gave on the corral, and to each of these each silent"tough" had given a quick, furtive glance, but not a step was taken. Howlong the strain of the situation might have lasted there is no saying. It was broken by the sudden lifting of that dirty canvas screen, assudden and perceptible a start on part of each of the confronted men andthe quick entrance of the engineer. For another second or two no wordwas spoken. Loring's eyes were evidently unable at the instant topenetrate the gloom. Then he recognized Blake, then gradually the twomen at the wall, and then at last Blake spoke. 

"There are your followers, Loring. "

A moment's careful scrutiny, then a nod of assent was Loring's answer. 

"Now, then, you two, " said Blake. "I've suspected you before. Now I morethan suspect you. You--the long villain--I warn never to come nosingabout our camp again, and you, the shorter, I'll trouble to come intocamp forthwith. No, don't draw that pistol unless you want a dozenbullets through you. Half a troop is right here at my back. Your soldiername was Higgins and you're a deserter from Cram's battery, NewOrleans. "

For a moment there was a silence, broken only by the hard breathing ofthe two cornered men, then came a flash, a sharp report, a piercingscream as the lithe Mexican girl sprang forth from behind the blanketand hurled herself on Blake, a panther-like leap of the accused manunder cover of the flash and smoke, a thwack like the sound of the batwhen it meets a new baseball full in the middle, and Loring's fist hadlanded full on Higgins' jowl and sent him like a log to the floor. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The court-martial that met at Camp Cooke in compliance with orders fromdivision headquarters at 'Frisco had, three weeks later, practicallyfinished the case of Brevet-Captain Nevins, and that debonair person, who had appeared before it on the first day, suave, laughing, and almostinsolently defiant, had wilted visibly as, day after day, the judgeadvocate unfolded the mass of evidence against him. All that Nevinsthought to be tried for was a charge of misappropriation of public fundsand property, and it was his purpose to plead in bar of trial that hehad offered to make complete restitution, to replace every missing item, and doubly replace, if need be, every dollar. This, indeed, he had lostno time in doing the moment he was handed over to the post commander, two days after the exciting episode at Sancho's, but he coupled withthe offer a condition that all proceedings against him should bedropped, and the veteran major commanding, while expressing entirewillingness to receipt for any funds the accused might offer, wouldpromise nothing whatever in return. That Nevins should be charged withdesertion and breach of arrest the accused officer regarded as of smallimportance. He was merely going to Tucson fast as he could to get frombusiness associates, as he termed them, the money deposited with them, and owed to him, and this must also excuse his having borrowed themajor's best horse. His friends in congress would square all that forhim, even if the court should prove obdurate. That grave charges shouldhave followed him from a former sphere of operations, that his record, while retained in the volunteer service until the spring of '66 andassigned to some mysterious bureau functions in the South, should allhave been ventilated and made part and parcel of the charges, that itshould be shown that he, as a newly commissioned officer of the army, had made the journey from New Orleans to the Isthmus and thence to SanFrancisco with men whom he knew to be deserters from commands stationedin the Crescent City, that he should have gambled with them andassociated with them and brought one of them all the way with him toYuma and concealed from the military authorities his knowledge of theircrime, that it should be proved he was a professional "card sharp, "expert manipulator and blackleg he never had contemplated as evenpossible, and yet, with calm and relentless deliberation "thatcold-blooded, merciless martinet of a West Pointer, " as he referred tothe judge advocate at an early stage in the proceedings, had laid proofafter proof before the court, and left the case of the defense at thelast without a leg to stand on. And then Nevins dropped the debonair anddonned the abject, for the one friend or adviser left to him in thecrowded camp, an officer who said he always took the side of the underdog in a fight, had told him that in its present temper that court, withold Turnbull as one of its leaders, would surely sentence him to a termof years at Alcatraz as well as to dismissal from the military serviceof the United States. Dismissal he expected, but cared little for that. He had money and valuables more than enough to begin life on anywhere, and the pickings of his accustomed trade were all too scant in Arizona. He needed a broader field, and a crowding population for the properexercise of his talents; and the uniform of the officer, after all, hadnot proved to be so potent in lulling the suspicions of prospectivevictims as he had expected it might be. But Alcatraz! a rock-boundprison! a convict's garb! hard labor on soft diet! that was indeedappalling. 

"That man Loring has made you out an innate blackguard, Nevins. You'vegot to plead for mercy, " said his shrewd adviser, and Nevins saw thepoint and plead. He laid before the court letters from officers of rankspeaking gratefully of his aid during the prevalence of yellow fever inthe Gulf States. He begged the court to wait until he could show themthe affidavits of many statesmen and soldiers, whom it would takemonths to hear from by mail, and there was then no telegraph in Arizona. He begged for time, for pity, and the court was moved and wrote to DrumBarracks for instructions, and adjourned until the answer came, which itdid by swift stage and special courier within a week. "Advices fromWashington say that the congressional backers of the accused havedeclared themselves well rid of him and suggest the extreme penalty ofthe law, " and this being the advice of Washington it was simply humannature that the court should experience a revulsion of feeling andconsider itself bound to see that the poor fellow was not made to suffermartyrdom. Most of the members were men from the volunteers or from theranks. West Pointers were the exception, not the rule, in the line ofthe army for years after the war. Most of the court had been therecipients of Nevins' exuberant hospitality at one time or other. He hadobjected to the few who had lost heavily to him at cards, and theobjection had been sustained, and when the last day for the longsession arrived and a sad-eyed, pale-faced, scrupulously groomed anddressed accused arose before the dignified array and the little line ofcurious spectators, to make his last plea, a silence not unmixed with acertain sympathy, fell upon all hearers, as in low voice and falteringaccents the friendless fellow began his story. Partly from manuscript, which he seemed to find hard reading, but mainly as an extemporaneouseffort, his remarks were substantially as follows:

"I've come to make a clean breast of it, gentlemen. I'm not fit to wearyour uniform. I never was. I never wanted to. It was practically forcedupon me by men who ought to have known better, who did know better, butwho didn't care so long as they got me out of the way. My father as muchas owned more than one congressman in York State. The Honorable Mr. Cadger, of the Military Committee, couldn't 'a been renominated if ithadn't been for him, and he didn't want me round home any more. He gotme kept on bureau work long after all but a few volunteers weremustered out and shoved me down to New Orleans, where I'd often beensteamboating before the war. I had the fever there when I was onlytwenty. Perhaps he thought I could get it again, and that would be theend of me. If there's a worse place for a young officer to start in thanthat infernal town was just after the war it ain't on the map o' theseUnited States. I had the luck and the opportunities of the devil fornigh onto a year. I got more money and learned more ways of getting itthan I knew how to use, and then I got married. A homeless woman, awoman with brains and good looks and education, married me for theposition I could give her, I suppose. They told me afterward she did itout of spite or desperation; that she was a Northern girl who had beenemployed as governess in an old Southern family that was ruined by thewar; that she had a younger sister in New York whom she was educating, agirl who had a magnificent voice and wanted to go on the stage, and allthe money she could save went to her. She got employment when Ben Butlertook command, for she knew all the Southern families, and who had moneyand plate and jewels, and who had nothing but niggers. She fell in love, they told me afterward, with a swell colonel who came there on staffduty, for he cut a dash and made desperate love to her until his wifegot wind of it and came down there all of a sudden just after thesmash-up of the Confederacy, and put a stop to his fun. That was in May, and I got there in July. We were married that winter, and I loaded herwith the best I could buy and gave her all she could spend on her sisteruntil she found out how my money was made there--in cotton and cards. She thought, and I'd let her think so, that I had big property in theNorth. It was another woman gave her the tip, and then the troublebegan. She swore we must give up the house we lived in, the horses andcarriage, and go to a cheap boarding-house. She got the jewelers to takeback the watch and every trinket I'd given her--at their own valuation, about a quarter of what they cost me. She argued and pleaded and prayed, and swore she'd confess the whole thing to General Sheridan, who camethere right after the riots of '66 and took command, and that would havesent me to the penitentiary. There were regular officers in the dealsbeside me, and they got wind of it and tried to bribe her; and she'd cryall night and mope all day, and swore she'd leave me unless I cut loosefrom the whole business and restored what I'd made. By God, I couldn't!I'd spent it! I was no worse than three or four others who had eyes opento their opportunities--two of 'em in the regular army now--bang-upswells, and at last I couldn't stand it and got to drinking, and then Ilost my card nerve and the money went with it, and it made me desperate, crazy, I reckon; for one night when I came home drunk and she made ascene I suppose I must have struck her, and then she took sick and gotdelirious, and I was horribly afraid, and so were my partners, thatshe'd give up the whole business; so they got me leave of absence. Theysaw me aboard the steamer for New York. My money was running short, andthey gave me enough to place her in a sanitarium on the Hudson and gether sister with her, and then I came back, and bad luck followed. I wasstrapped when the old man told me I'd have to go out and join myregiment, for he'd got me appointed in the regulars. Why, some ofSheridan's officers when they saw my name in the papers, wrote to stopit, but it was no use. The military committee in congress couldn't goback on Mr. Cadger, and he daren't go back on my father. But they got mesent out here to be as far away as possible; and yes, there were threedeserters from Cram's battery aboard the steamer, so I learned, and oneof them, the man you call Higgins, who was betrayed to Lieutenant Blakeby another deserter just as bad as him, was staking the other two, forhe had money in plenty until after I had done with him. What my life'sbeen out here you know well enough; same as it was in New Orleans--allluck and plenty at first, then all a collapse. I'm ruined now. When Ihad hundreds and thousands I helped everybody who wanted it. There aremen in Yuma and Tucson now whom I set on their pins, and they give methe cold shoulder. All that offer to the major was a bluff. They've gotall my money. I haven't a cent anywhere, and so far as I'm personallyconcerned I don't care. If there was no one on earth dependent on me I'das lief you'd shoot me to-morrow. 

"But, gentlemen, there's the rub. I own it now. There's my poor wife andher sister. I've lied to them both. She got well at the sanitarium. She's believed my promises and she's come all the way to San Francisco, and was expecting me there when--when the bottom fell out of the wholebusiness. She's there now, she and her sister. They've got enough to paytheir expenses perhaps a month or so, and that's all. I can make aliving, I can get along and provide for her if you'll only give me achance. I know I deserve dismissal. That's all right; but for God'ssake, gentlemen, don't send me to Alcatraz--don't put me in jail, leaveme free to work. There's men in this territory that owe me nearly athousand dollars to-day. Let me gather that up and go to mywife--I--I--She's a good woman, gentlemen--" and here the tears camestarting from the pleading culprit's eyes, and one or two sympatheticsouls about the rude tables sniffed suspiciously. "It ain't for me totalk of such things. Perhaps you won't believe me, but--" and hefingered the leaves of the blue-bound copy of the regulations that layto the left of the judge advocate's elbow, "I--I love that woman and Iwant to care for her, and take good care of her. Look here, " hecontinued, as with sudden, impulsive movement he unbuttoned histrim-fitting, single-breasted frock coat and displayed a snowy shirtbosom on which sparkled and glistened a great diamond set in the stylemuch affected by the "sporting gent" of the day. "See this diamond. Itcost eleven hundred dollars in San Francisco six months ago; and here, this solitaire, " and he produced from an inner pocket an unquestionablyvaluable ring and, with trembling hands, laid them upon the table infront of the judge advocate; "and here, " and he whipped from thewaistband of his trousers a massive and beautiful watch. "There are allthe valuables I have in the world. These I place in the hands of theworthy officer and gentleman who has only done his duty in representingthe government through this long and painful trial. These I publiclyturn over to him with the request that he personally hand them to mypoor wife as soon as he reaches San Francisco as earnest of my intentionto lead an honest life and to care for her in the future. And now, gentlemen, I've nothing to ask for myself--nothing but liberty to go andwork for her. I'm not fit to sit with such as you. "

He finished and, quivering as with suppressed emotion, turned his backupon the court, pressed his handkerchief to his streaming eyes andgroped his way to the little table set apart for him a few yards to theleft of the judge advocate. The silence among the members and along thebenches whereon were seated the dozen spectators was for a momentunbroken by a sound except a little shuffling of feet. Then one veteranmember cleared his throat with a "hem" of preparation to speak, yethesitated. The junior officer of the court, a lieutenant of cavalry, slowly stretched forth his hand, picked up the solitaire and eyed itwith an assumption of critical yet respectful interest. The president, agrizzled, red-faced veteran, presently stole a glance at Turnbull, whosat with stolid features immediately on his right. One by one the ninemembers (two of the original eleven having been challenged and excused)began to look cautiously about them. A captain of infantry was observedto be very red about the eyelids, but--that might have been, andpossibly was, the result of cocktails. Loring alone remained in the sameposition. He had half turned his back to Nevins when the latter began tospeak, rested his left elbow on the table, and his head on his hand, hiseyes shaded under the curving palm against the glare of light that camefrom without. There was no room or building big enough for the purposeat the post, and the court had held its session under a brace ofhospital tent flies stretched on a framework adjoining the office ofthe major commanding, and Camp Cooke, as a rule, looked on from afar. The spectators who ventured beneath the shade were officers of thelittle garrison, the sutler and half a dozen "casuals" of the civilianpersuasion, among whom, if not among the members of the court, Nevins'harangue had created undoubted sensation, for glances indicative ofsurprise if not of incredulity passed among them. 

At last as though he felt that something must be said rather than thathe knew what was appropriate to say, the presiding officer addressed themember who had cleared his throat. 

"You were about to say something, major?"

"I--er--should like to ask the accused whether--his wife is informed ofhis--er--predicament?"

And Nevins, slowly turning, answered, "I wrote last week confessingeverything. It will be a relief to her that I am no longer in the army. She said she could never look an officer in the face. " There was anotherpause, then Nevins spoke again. "I hope I have not imposed too much onthe judge advocate. I have asked because he is the only gentleman herewho is not entirely a stranger to my wife. "

Then all eyes were on Loring as he slowly dropped his hand and lookedwith undisguised astonishment at the accused. Blake, a spectator, suddenly drew his long legs under him and straightened up in his seat. It was needless for Loring to speak. His eyes questioned. 

"I do not mean that Mr. Loring knows my wife, but--she has heard of himfrom her sister. They hoped to find him in Frisco. "

Loring had picked up a pencil as he turned. Its point was resting on thepine-topped table. He never spoke. His eyes, still steadily fixed uponthe twitching face of Nevins, questioned further, and every man presentstrained his ears for the next word. 

"I should explain--her sister is Miss Geraldine Allyn. "

And with a snap that was heard all over the assemblage the lead ofLoring's pencil broke short off. He sat staring at Nevins, white andstunned. 

CHAPTER V. 

The sutler's "shack" at Camp Cooke was crowded with officers thatevening and the episode of Nevins' address was the talk of all tongues. Certain civilians were there, too, frequenters of Sancho's place, butthey were silent, observant and unusually abstemious. To say that Nevinshad astonished everybody by an exhibition of feeling and an access ofconscience would be putting it mildly. But the fact was indisputable. Hehimself, after adjournment, exhibited to the interrogative major twolong letters, recently received from San Francisco, in graceful femininehand, and signed "Your sad but devoted wife, Naomi. " One of thesereferred to Lieutenant Loring, "whom Geraldine met at West Point and sawfrequently the summer and fall that followed his graduation. "

There were members of the court who sought to hear what Loring had tosay on the subject, but he proved unapproachable. All men noted theamaze--indeed, the shock--that resulted from Nevins' public and somewhatabrupt mention of the sister's name. The judge advocate sat for a momentas though stricken dumb, his eyes fixed and staring, his face pallid, the muscles of his compressed lips twitching perceptibly, his handclinched and bearing hard upon the table. There were few army women atCamp Cooke in those days, only two or three veteran campaigners and onemisguided bride, but had the post been full of them there could hardlyhave been curiosity more lively than was exhibited by most of the courtall that long afternoon and evening. Conjecture, comment, suggestionpassed from, lip to lip. One or two men even went so far as to drop inat the tent assigned to the lonely accused and after expressing interestand sympathy and a desire to see that he got "fair play and a freshstart, " they ventured to inquire if Nevins knew why Mr. Loring had beenso much astonished, if not overcome, by the mention of the name ofNevins' sister-in-law. Nevins didn't know, but at that moment he wouldhave given his hopes of mercy to find out. He was writing to his wifewhen his visitors came, and demanding explanation. He could think ofseveral possibilities, any one of which in his unenlightened mind mightgive him a claim, even a hold on the hitherto intractable West Pointer. Why, why had he not heard or dreamed before this long trial came to itsdramatic close that there was some strong and mysterious connectionbetween him and Loring, between prosecutor and accused? The oneplausible theory was that Loring and Geraldine were or had beenaffianced. From all his wife had told him in their few days of moderatecontent and apparent bliss, he knew Geraldine to be beautiful, giftedand attractive to any man, despite her poverty. That she had been pettedand spoiled, that she was selfish to the core, grasping and ambitious, he had never heard, yet might have inferred from Naomi's faltering pleason her sister's behalf early in the days of their wedded life. In hiseagerness to learn something of the truth he sent a messenger during theafternoon, after the final adjournment, and begged that Mr. Loringshould come to see him. The reply was that Mr. Loring would do so later. Only two men succeeded in seeing Loring that afternoon and evening, thepost commander, Major Stark, at whose quarters he was housed, and theveteran president of the court. On the plea of being very busy writingthe record of the week's session, he had excused himself to everybodyelse. There had been something of a scene before the adjournment thatmorning. The court was ordered to try "such other prisoners as mightproperly be brought before it, " and it was understood that twodeserters, captured at Tucson, had announced their intention of pleadingguilty and throwing themselves on the mercy of the court. Higgins hadbeen sent to Fort Yuma. It would take long weeks to get the evidence inhis case from New Orleans, but the two victims at Cooke knew well thattheir case was clear. There was no use in fighting. The sooner theywere tried the shorter term would they serve as prisoners. Nevinsfinished at ten o'clock. Loring's brief stupefaction was conquered notwithout evident effort. Vouchsafing no response to the plea of theaccused for mercy, he announced that he submitted the case withoutremark, and the president nodded to Nevins the intimation that he mightretire. Nevins slowly gained his feet, took a long look about the silentarray, hesitated, and then with his eyes on Loring said:

"I should like to be assured that the judge advocate accepts the trust. It will be two or three months before the orders in my case can get backfrom Washington, meantime my pay is stopped and has been for threemonths back. My wife must have means to live on, and that's all I haveto offer. There is no other way of getting it to her that I considersafe. "

Loring's white hand was trembling visibly, but his head was bowed asthough in painful thought. The president had to speak. "I presume youwill not refuse, Mr. Loring?"

For another moment there was silence. At last, slowly, the judgeadvocate looked up, turned to the accused and said, "Write Mrs. Nevins'address on that, " holding forth as he did so a heavy official envelope. Wrapping the pin and ring together in note paper he stowed them in asmaller envelope, moistened the gummed flap, closed it and slid itwithin the heavier one which Nevins, after addressing, laid before him. Then turning to the president, Loring calmly bowed and said, "I willaccept, sir. "

Five minutes later, cleared of all persons except the members and thejudge advocate, who in those days did not withdraw during thedeliberations of the court, this open-air temple of military justice wasgiven over to the discussion on the findings and the determination ofthe sentence. In low, grave tones those members who had opinions toexpress gave utterance to their views. The votes on each specificationand to the various charges were recorded, and finally the sentence wasarrived at. By 11:30 the case of Brevet-Captain Nevins was practicallyconcluded and the president, eager as were his associates to finishtheir work after their long detention at this hot, barren, yet notinhospitable post, looked briskly up at the silent, somber young officerat the opposite end of the long table. 

"Shall we take ten minutes' recess and have a stretch before you go onwith the next case, Mr. Judge Advocate? I understand both victims pleadguilty and we can do 'em up in thirty minutes. "

Nevins' watch was going the rounds of the court at the moment, itsbeautiful and costly case and workmanship exciting general admiration. Again the judge advocate was slow and hesitant in his reply, utterlyunlike the prompt, alert official whose conduct of the trial had wongolden opinions from every man, old or young, in the service. It wasnearly half a minute before he spoke, and then only after the presidentreminded him that several officers wished to start that afternoon forthe Gila so as to meet the eastward stage at Sancho's two days later. 

"Give me an hour, sir. I cannot go on sooner. "

Out under the canvas shelter at the adjutant's office stood the twoprisoners with their guards. For an hour or more they had been waitingtheir turn. A shade of disappointment stole over one or two faces, butthe president's answer was prompt. 

"Certainly, Mr. Loring. The court owes it to you, " and the recess wasdeclared accordingly. The post quartermaster was one of the juniormembers and Loring detained him. Bidding the orderly remain in charge ofthe premises he turned to this official. 

"You have a safe at your office. Will you permit me to place these init?--and come with me until I do so?"

"Certainly. Come right along. It's but a step. "

Wrapped in a silken handkerchief Nevin's watch, with the envelopecontaining the diamonds, was stored in a little drawer within the safeand securely locked. "You need a drink, " said the quartermaster to theengineer, noting again his pallid face. 

"None, I thank you, " said Loring briefly, and without another word hetook himself straightway to Major Starke's. At 12:30 when courtreconvened the judge advocate went swiftly and methodically through hiswork, read the orders, propounded the usual questions, swore the court, took his own oath, read the charges and recorded the pleas without lossof a second of time or use of a superfluous word. At 1:15 the courtstood adjourned _sine die_, leaving the president and judge advocate tofinish and sign the record. By 3 P. M. Five of its members, in the one"four-mule" road wagon belonging at Cooke, were speeding southward, hoping to catch the stage to take them to their posts lying far to theeast. By midnight the record was well-nigh complete, and Loring, lockingup the papers, stepped softly out into the starlight. 

Over across the contracted parade a lamp was burning dimly at the guardtents and several others flared at the brush and canvas shack of thesutler. Everywhere else about Camp Cooke there was silence and slumber. The muttered word of command as the half-past-twelve relief formed atthe guard tent, the clink of glasses and murmur of voices, sometimesaccentuated by laughter, came drifting on the night from the openclubroom. Beyond the guard tents the dim walls of the corral loomeddarkly against the dry, cloudless, star-dotted sky that bordered theeastern horizon. The sentry, slowly pacing his beaten path along the_acequia_ that conducted the cool waters of the Yavapai, from thenorthward hills to the troughs in the corral, moved noiseless, dim andghostly, and Loring, listening for a moment to the faint sounds ofrevelry at the shack, turned away to the north, passed the rude shelterswhich had been built by the labor of troops for the accommodation of theofficers and the few families there abiding, and found himself presentlyon the open plain full a hundred yards out from the buildings and beyondthe post of the sentry on that flank, who, far over at the west end ofhis long beat at the moment, was dreaming of the revels he'd have whenhis discharge came, and neither heard nor saw the solitary officer whoseone desire was to get away by himself to some point where he couldcalmly think. He needed to be alone. Even Blake, whom he had grown tolike and whom he believed to be still at the camp, would have been inthe way. 

A strange fellow was Loring, a man grown, so far as judgment andexperience were concerned, when at the age of twenty he entered WestPoint, and from the very start became one of the leaders of his class inscholarship, and later one of the prominent officers of the battalion ofcadets. In scientific and mathematical studies, indeed, he had nosuperior among his comrades, but languages and drawing, as taught inthose days at the academy, threw him out of the head of the class, butcould not prevent his landing a close second to the leader in generalstanding. Never a popular man in the corps, he commanded, nevertheless, the respect and esteem of the entire battalion, and little by littlewon a deeper regard from his immediate associates. He was a man ofmarked gravity of demeanor. He rarely laughed. His smile was only atrifle more frequent. He was taciturnity personified and for two yearsat least was held to be morose. Of his antecedents little was known, forhe never spoke of them and seldom of himself. He was methodical in thelast degree, exercising just so long in the gymnasium every morningduring the barrack days and putting on the gloves for fifteen minutesevery evening with the best middleweight in the corps. There were timesin his early cadet days when he was suspected of having an ugly temper, and perhaps with reason. Exasperated at some prank played at his expenseby a little "yearling" toward the close of his first--the"plebe"--encampment, Loring actually kicked the offender out of histent. The boy was no match for the older, heavier man, but flew at himlike a wildcat then and there, and Loring suddenly found himself in afierce and spirited battle. The little fellow had pluck, science andtraining, and Loring's eyes and nose were objects to behold in less thana minute. For that moment, shame-stricken, he fought on the defensive, then, stung by the taunts of the swift-gathering third classmen, herushed like a bull, and two heavy blows sent the yearling to grass andthat fight was ended. But challenges rained on him from "men of his sizeand weight, " and the very next evening he went out to Fort Clinton withone of the champions of the upper class and in fifteen minutes wascarried away to a hospital a total wreck. It was ten days before he wasreported fit for duty. Then camp was over and barrack life begun. Not aword would he or did he say about his severe defeat, but systematicallyhe went to work to master "the noble art of self-defense, " and two yearsfrom that time the corps was treated to a sensation. Loring, back fromcadet furlough, had been made first sergeant of Company "D, " in which asa private and first classman was the very cadet who had so soundlythrashed him. Loring proved strict. Certain "first-class privates"undertook to rebel against his authority, his former antagonist beingthe ringleader. Matters came to a crisis when Loring entered the namesof three of the seniors on the delinquency book for "slow taking placein ranks at formation for dinner. " It was declared an affront. His oldantagonist demanded satisfaction in the name of the aggrieved ones, andthat fight was the talk of the corps for six months. Loring named theold battle-ground at Fort Clinton as the place, and in ten minutesutterly reversed the issue of his plebe effort, and the first classmanwas the worst whipped victim seen in years, for he fought until fairlyknocked senseless. That was Loring's last affair of the kind. He wentabout his duties next day as seriously and methodically as ever, withoutthe faintest show of triumph, and when the vanquished cadet finallyreturned from hospital, treated him with scrupulous courtesy that, before the winter wore away, warmed even to kindliness, and when thespringtime came the two were cordial friends. The summer of hisgraduation Loring was ordered on temporary duty as an instructor duringthe encampment of cadets. He did not dance. He cared little for society, but one evening at Cozzens' he was thrilled by the sweetness of awoman's song, and gazing in at her as she sang to an applauding audiencein the great parlor, Loring saw a face as sweet as the voice. Severalevenings he spent on the broad veranda, for every night she sang and erelong noticed him; so did prominent society women and read his unspokenadmiration. "Let me present you to her, Mr. Loring, " said one of thelatter. "She is a lovely girl, and so lonely, you know. She is engagedas companion, it seems, to Miss Haight--a dragon of an old maid who is agood deal of an invalid and seldom out of her room. That is why younever see the girl at the 'hops' at the Point, yet I know she'd love togo. "

Loring felt that he blushed with eagerness and pleasure, though hemerely said "please, " and so Miss Geraldine Allyn met Lieutenant Loringof the engineers, and within the fortnight he knew, though he strove tohide it, that he was madly in love with her. Such beauty, such a voice, such appealing loneliness were too much for him. Six long weeks, thoughhe became her shadow, Loring struggled against his passion. He hadplanned that for years he should remain single until he had saved amodest nestegg; then, when he had rank and experience, had moved in theworld and had ample opportunity to study women, he would select forhimself and deliberately lay siege to the girl he thought to make hiswife. 

But when his duties were completed with the twenty-eighth of August andhe should have gone to his home, Loring remained at the Pointfascinated, for Miss Haight and her musical companion stayed at Cozzensthrough September. In October they were to go to Lenox, and before theparting Loring's ring was on that little finger. She had promised to behis wife. Home then he hurried in response to the pleading of hissister, but the moment the Lenox visit was over and Miss Haightreturned to New York thither went Loring to find his _fiancée_ at thepiano, with a middle-aged, somewhat portly civilian bending eagerly overher and so engrossed that he never saw or heard the intruder. This wasNovember fourth. The engagement was barely six weeks old, but Loring'sring was not on her finger as she rose in confusion to greet him. Morethan that, she wrote a piteous letter to him, begging for her release. She "really had not known her own mind. " Loring gave it without a wordto or without other sight of her, packed his trunk, and left New York onthe morning train. There was a sensation at the Point when it wasannounced that Miss Allyn was to marry Mr. Forbes Crosby, a wealthy"board-of-trade man" of forty. Loring reappeared no more. He got hisorders for San Francisco and sailed late in the fall, and barely had hegone than the story spread from lip to lip that Mr. Crosby had brokenthe engagement, that Miss Haight had decided to go abroad and would notrequire a companion what was more, that Forbes Crosby had been makingvery judicious investments for Miss Haight herself, and people reallywouldn't be surprised if--and then Geraldine Allyn, too, disappearedfrom New York and was next heard of living very quietly with a marriedsister, herself an invalid, a Mrs. Nevins, whose husband was said to besomewhere in the army. 

And so that girl whom Loring had so deeply loved was sister to the wifeof this military castaway, this unprincipled gambler, swindler andthief, and he, Loring, had charged himself with a commission that mightbring him once more face to face with her who had duped him. 

Circling the camp at wide distance, he had crossed the _acequia_ andreached the Gila road. To the north now lay the camp, and the twinklinglights of the sutler's bar, and between him and these twinkling lightstwo dark objects bobbed into view some thirty yards distant, and, asplain as he could hear his own heart beat, Loring heard a voice say:"Then I'll count on you not to let him out of your sight, " and thevoice was that of Nevins--Nevins who was supposed to confine himself, day and night in arrest, to the limits of the garrison. 

CHAPTER VI. 

The members of the court had scattered to their posts, all save theveteran president and Colonel Turnbull, the department inspector. Lieutenant Blake, to his disgust, had been sent scouting up theHassayampa where the Apaches had been seen some days before, butcouldn't be found now--it being the practice of those nimble warriors toget far from the scene of their deviltries without needless delay, andthe rule of the powers that were, until General Crook taught them wisermethods, to promptly order cavalry to the spot where the Indians hadbeen, instead of where they had presumably gone. A buckboard _en route_to Date Creek, with two of the array that had sat in judgment on Nevins, had been "held up" at night by a gang of half a dozen desperadoes andthe three passengers relieved of their valuables, consisting of onegold watch and two of silver, one seal ring, three revolvers, threeextra-sized canteens, a two-gallon demijohn, and in the aggregate threegallons of whisky. The victims had submitted to the inevitable so far astheir gold and silver were concerned, but pathetically pointed out tothe robber chief the hardship of being bereft at one fell swoop of theexpensive and only consolation the country afforded, and despite hiswrath and disappointment at finding that the gentlemen had already beenrobbed, two of them having spent four nights hand-running at the postpoker-room--the leader was not so destitute of fellow-feeling as tocondemn the hapless trio to the loss of even the necessaries of life, and mercifully handed back half a gallon. 

"We hope to catch some of you gentlemen when you haven't been playingpoker, " said he, striving to stifle his chagrin. "Who got it all, anyhow?" he asked, with an eye to future business. "Ah, yes--might haveknown it, " he continued in response to the rueful admission of one ofthe party. "Wonderfully smart outfit that at Cooke, wonderfully--most assmart as some of our people at Sancho's. Well, so long, gentlemen. 'Fany of your friends are coming this way recommend our place, won't you?We've treated you as well as we knew how. Drive on, Johnny. Nobody elsewill stop you this side of Date. They know we got here first. "

Arizona was an interesting region in those days of development thatfollowed close on the heels of the war. Hundreds of experienced handshad been thrown out of employment by the return of peace, and theterritories overflowed with outlaws, red and white, male and female. Itwas taking one's life in one's hands to venture pistol shot beyond theconfines of a military post. It was impossible for paymasters to carryfunds without a strong escort of cavalry. The only currency in theterritory was that put in circulation by the troops or paid tocontractors through the quartermaster's department. Even Wells-Fargo, pioneer expressmen of the Pacific slope, sent their messengers andagents no further then than the Colorado River, and Uncle Sam's mailstage was robbed so often that a registered package had grown to beconsidered only an advertisement to the covetous of the fact that itscontents might be of value. 

And so when the record of the court was duly signed and sealed in hugeofficial envelope, and Lieutenant Loring, even more grave and taciturnthan usual, went the rounds of the rude quarters to leave his card orpay his ceremonious parting call on the officers who knew enough to callon him--which in those crude days of the army many did not--he was askedby more than one experienced soldier whether he had requested an escortin view of the fact that he was burdened with valuables that, thoughsmall in bulk, were convertible into cash that was anything but small inamount. To such queries Mr. Loring, who had an odd aversion to answeringquestions as to what he was going to do, merely bowed assent and changedthe subject. Lieutenant Gleason, an officer who had recently joined theinfantry and was one of Nevins' victims, a man of unusual assurancedespite his few months of service, had persisted in his queries to theextent of demanding from what quarter Loring expected to get an escort, Blake being away at the Hassayampa, and no other cavalry being withinsixty miles; and Gleason felt resentful, though he deftly hid the fact, because the engineer ignored the question until it had been thricerepeated, and then he said, somewhat tartly: "That is my affair, Mr. Gleason. " Everybody thought that Loring was decidedly unsociable, andsome went so far as to call him supercilious and haughty. 

"Too damned big to mingle with men who fought all through the war whilehe was a schoolboy at the Point, " said Gleason, who had never seen askirmish. 

This latter gentleman took it much amiss that Loring had won theshoulder-straps of a first lieutenant the day he first donned hisuniform (many vacancies then existing in the Corps of Engineers), whileGleason and others, with what he called war records, were still secondlieutenants. Officers of the caliber of Turnbull and Starke saw much torespect in the grave, silent, thoughtful young officer, but thejuniors--the captains and lieutenants--though they had marked the easeand ability with which Loring handled what was probably his first caseas judge advocate, nevertheless agreed that he was "offish" toward thegeneral run of "the line, " held himself aloof as though he consideredhimself of superior clay, didn't drink, smoke, swear, or play cards, andwas therefore destitute of most elements of soldier companionship asthen and there defined. It was resented, too, by almost everybody thatLoring would not say when and how he expected to leave Camp Cooke. Hehad come on Sancho's famous roan, but had returned that animal byspecial courier without delay. Starke and Turnbull were informed, but atLoring's request saw fit to hold their tongues. No one should know, hehad said to them, if he was to be responsible for those valuables. Itmight leak out, and the veteran officers saw the point. The juniorscould not well ask them, the veterans, but they could and did askLoring, and held it up against him in days to come that he declined tobe confidential. 

There was a man at Cooke who could have told them Loring showed wisdomin his observance of caution, and that man was Nevins, who had been sentfor by the commanding officer the morning after the adjournment of thecourt, and subjected to a questioning and a lecture that nobody elseheard, but that everybody speedily knew must have been severe, becauseNevins, lately so meek and lachrymose, was seen to go to his tentflushed with rage, and then from within those canvas walls his voice washeard uplifted in blasphemy and execration. Nor did he take advantage ofgarrison limits the rest of that day, nor once again that day appearoutside. At so great a distance from civilization trifles prove ofabsorbing interest, and callers came to see what they "could do forhim, " and learn for themselves, and Nevins' face was black as a stormand his language punctuated with profanity. He raved about tyranny andoppression, but vouchsafed no intelligible explanation of what heconfessed to be the commanding officer's latest order--that he wasremanded to close arrest. 

Let it be here explained for the benefit of the lay reader that when anofficer is accused of a crime, or even of a misdemeanor, he is placed inarrest, which means that he is suspended for the time being from theexercise of command, must not wear a sword, and must confine himself tocertain limits--to his tent or quarters if in close arrest, as for oneweek the officer generally is, and to the limits of the parade orgarrison if allowed out for exercise. No sentry is posted, for anofficer is supposed to be on honor to observe the prescribedrestrictions, and only when he breaks his arrest, by visiting thequarters of some brother officer or by going outside of camp, is he indanger of other humiliation. To none of his few visitors did Nevinsreveal the fact that on the previous night, if not before, he had brokenhis arrest and gone far out on the mesa back of the post, that he hadbeen detected, by whom he knew not, reported to the commanding officer, and by him severely reprimanded and threatened with close confinementunder guard, as when first brought back to the post, if he againventured beyond the restricted limits now assigned him. 

"I have twice sent to ask that Mr. Loring should come to see me, " railedNevins. "I have important matters--papers and messages from my wife, andhe holds aloof. By God, Gleason! you tell him for me that if he can'ttreat me decently, and come to see me before tattoo this night, I demandthat he hand back those diamonds and things! Do you understand?"

And that message Mr. Gleason, who of all things loved a sensation, faithfully promised to deliver and fully meant to, but the game at thesutler's developed into a big one that eventful night. Jackpots were therule before the drums of the infantry hammered out first call fortattoo, and in the absorbing nature of his occupation he never thoughtof Nevins' charge except as something to be attended to later, and notuntil guard-mount of another day, when his head was muddled with thepotations of an all-night session and the befogging cocktails of themorning, did Mr. Gleason approach the engineer upon the subject, andthen there was a scene. 

Loring was standing at the moment in front of the rude brush and adobequarters of Major Starke conversing with two or three officers, orrather listening in silence to their observations. Turnbull was seatedunder the shelter of a sort of arbor made of framework and canvassigning some papers. The president of the court had disappeared and arumor was flitting about the post that early in the morning, before thedawn, in fact, that hardy veteran had pushed ahead in saddle, escortedby most of Blake's troop, which had unexpectedly returned during theprevious night, but merely unsaddled and, after a "rub-down, feed andwater, " had gone on again. If that were true, they had left as silentlyand mysteriously as they came, and only a corporal's guard remained. HadGleason been intent on anything but the manner in which he could makehis communication most public and significant, if not offensive, hewould have noticed that both Turnbull and Loring were in riding dress. But while it could not be said of him that in his condition he wascapable of seeing only one thing at a time, those things which he didsee were duplicate images of the same object, and he lurched up to thedual Loring and the hazy figures that seemed floating about him, and, with an attempt at majestic impressiveness, thickly said: "Mr. Loring, I'm bearer of a message from my fren' Mr. --Captain Nevins, d'manding theme'dy't r'turn of the diamon's an' valu'bles he placed in yourp'ssession. "

Other officers within earshot heard, as Gleason intended they shouldhear, and turned instantly toward the group, all eyes on the two--theflushed, swaying subaltern in fatigue uniform; the calm, deliberate manin riding dress. A faint color, as of annoyance, quickly spread overLoring's face, but for a moment he spoke not a word. Angrily the post, commander came hurrying forth, bent on the prompt annihilation of hisluckless subaltern, and was about to speak, but Loring interposed. 

"One moment, sir, I beg. " Then turning again on Gleason the engineerlooked him calmly over from head to foot a second or two and then ascalmly said:

"Too late, sir, they've gone. "

CHAPTER VII. 

Three days after the adjournment of Nevins' court Camp Cooke had droppedback to the weary monotone of its everyday life. Everybody was goneexcept the now sullen and complaining prisoner and the little garrisonof two companies of infantry. Vanished even were all but two or three ofthe colony of gamblers and alleged prospectors, who occupied, to theannoyance of the commanding officer and the scandal of the sutler, alittle ranch just outside the reservation lines whither venturesomespirits from the command were oft enticed and fleeced of the money thatthe authorized purveyor of high-priced luxuries considered hislegitimate plunder. By this time Camp Cooke waked up to the fact that ithad been dozing. While its own little force of cavalry was scouting thevalleys of the Verde and the Salado to the east and Blake's troop hadbeen rushed up the Hessayampa to the north, and there was no oneapparently to do escort duty through the deserts along the Gila, CampCooke and the outlying prowlers believed that those costly trinketswhich Nevins had begged Mr. Loring to take to his wife would not bewithdrawn from the quartermaster's safe, much less sent forth upon theirperilous way. Not until after Colonel Turnbull and the engineer hadridden off southward, escorted by a sergeant with six tough-lookingtroopers; not until after Loring's announcement that the jewelsthemselves had been sent ahead; not until after Mr. Gleason had beenremanded to his quarters to "sober up, " and the adjutant dispatched toCaptain Nevins with the intimation that if his too audible imprecationswere not stopped he and his tent would be transferred to a corner of thecorral, did Camp Cooke learn that Major Starke had sent a fly-by-nightcourier after Blake, recalling the troop, that it had halted on thatstream ten miles above the post, resting all afternoon and evening, hadridden silently in toward camp an hour after midnight and, afterreceiving certain instructions from Starke and a visit from Loring, hadgone on southward, silently as it came, accompanied by the presidingofficer of the court, who hated day marches and the sun-scorched desert, and leaving escort for those who were still to follow. There was mildsurprise in camp, but untold wrath and vituperation along the line toSancho's, for from far and near the choicest renegades of Arizona hadbeen flocking to the neighborhood only to find themselves outwitted bythe engineer. Not half an hour after the burst of blasphemy from Nevins'tent informed the camp that something more had happened to agitate anewhis sorely ruffled temper, and the story flew from lip to lip that itwas because the precious jewels were already on their way to 'Frisco, guarded presumably by Blake and forty carbines, a swarthy half-breedcourier spurred madly southward from the outlying roost on the bordersof the reservation, with the warning that it would be useless risk tomeddle with the Teniente Loring's party when it came along--there wereno valuables with them; they had been sent with the cavalry hours beforethe dawn. 

Yes, even the sealed record of the court must have been sent at thattime, too, for at ten o'clock in the morning, when Colonel Turnbull andMr. Loring mounted and gravely saluted the cap-raising group of officersas they rode away from the major's quarters, it was observed that Loringhad not even saddle-bags, and the major's striker admitted that he hadhoisted the lieutenant's valise to the pommel of a trooper's saddle attwo o'clock in the morning. Various were the theories and conjectures atthe sutler's all the rest of the day as to the information possessed byLieutenant Loring which led to such extreme precaution. The major wasclose-mouthed, and, for him, rather stern. He held aloof from hisjuniors all day long and seemed to be keeping an eye and an ear attenton Nevins. That officer's conduct was a puzzle. Six months before he wasthe personification of all that was lavish, hospitable, good-natured, extravagant. Everybody was apparently welcome to the best he had. Thencame the collapse, his arrest, his flight, his capture and confinement, his laughing defiance of his accusers until he found how much more theyknew than he supposed, his metaphorical prostration at the feet of hisjudges, his humility, repentance, suffering and sacrifice, his pledge offuture atonement, his protestations of love for his long-suffering wife, his surrender of his valuables for her benefit, his meekness of mienuntil the court had concluded his case and gone. Then, his suddenresumption of bold, truculent, defiant manner, his midnight breach ofarrest, which had leaked out through the guard that was promptly sentforth to fetch him in; then his demand for the return of his property, and his furious outburst on learning that Loring had taken him at hisword and sent it without delay by the safest possible hands. 

That proved an exciting day. The adjutant's message had temporarily awedand quieted the man, but toward three P. M. The mail carrier arrivedfrom the Gila with his sack of letters and papers. He reported havingbeen stopped only five miles out from Sancho's by masked men who quicklyexamined his big leather bag, silently pointed to a curious mark, a dabof paint that must have gotten on it while he was there at the ranch, and sent him ahead without a word being spoken. He saw other men, butthey passed him by in wide circuit. He met Lieutenant Blake and thetroop, and the lieutenant bade him hurry, so the letters were deliverednearly two hours earlier than usual. In the mail were a dozen missivesfor Captain Nevins, two in dainty feminine superscription postmarked SanFrancisco, several that might be bills, others that were local, onepostmarked Tucson, and one slipped in at Sancho's. The major himselflooked these envelopes over as though he thought their contents ought tobe examined, but even a convicted man had his rights, and the letterswere sent to him. In less than three minutes thereafter the hot, breathless air of the long afternoon was suddenly burdened with anothereruption of oaths and ravings. One or two women sitting in the shade oftheir canvas shelters across the parade clapped their hands to theirears and ran indoors, and the major's orderly dashed full tilt for theguard. Half an hour later Captain Nevins was escorted to a new abode, atent pitched just outside, not within, the corral, and there he was leftto swear at will, with the sentry on No. 4 warned to call the corporalof the guard if the gentleman for one moment quit the seclusion of hissolitary quarters. 

And this was the status of affairs when the sun went down at the closeof the third day after adjournment. When it rose upon the fourth all wasquiet about the impetuous captain's canvas home--too quiet, thought theofficer of the day after his visit to the guard at reveille, andtherefore did he untie the cords that fastened the flaps in front andpeer within. Five minutes later two new prisoners were placed in chargeof the guard, of which they had been members during the night--PrivatesPoague and Pritzlaff, of the first and second reliefs, respectively. Butthe aggregate gain in the column of "in arrest or confinement" was onlyone, for Captain Nevins had disappeared. 

Of course there was a rush to the outlying ranch, whose few remainingoccupants grinned exasperatingly and shrugged their shoulders, but gaveno information. Of course a courier was sent scurrying away on the trailof the cavalry, but he came back sore-footed at night, relieved of hishorse, arms and equipments, and thanking God for his life. Of courseanother courier was started by night to make the perilous ride to theSalado and order the instant return of at least a platoon, but nothingmore was heard of him for a week, and it was nearly five days beforethese desert-bound exiles of Camp Cooke got another atom of reliablenews from Sancho's, and meantime wondrous other things had happened. 

It did not take long to determine the means by which Nevins hadsucceeded in getting away. There was little, indeed, to prevent hisdoing so if he saw fit to go, for, unless sentries were posted on allfour sides of his tent, he might crawl off in the darkness unobserved. The sentry on No. 4 had received orders merely to summon the corporaland report to him if the officer ventured to leave his tent, and as No. 4 was a post over a hundred yards in length, and the sentry responsiblefor all of it, there was no right or reason in demanding of him that heshould give his undivided attention to what might be going on close tothe corral. In fact, by removing Nevins from the inner quadrangle of thecamp and placing him outside the walls, Major Starke had made it all theeasier for him to skip a second time if he saw fit to do so; but Starkereasoned that Nevins still had some hope that congressional influencewould save him from dismissal, and therefore would not peril his chancesby a second flight. Starke did not know that Nevins was honest at leastin one statement, that he expected dismissal. His fate was sealed, hispay was confiscated to square shortages. There was actually nothing tobe gained by staying at Cooke in virtual confinement, perhaps eight orten weeks, until his case could be decided in Washington and the ordersreceived back in Arizona. It actually simplified matters in many waysfor Nevins to go. Somebody, for instance, would have to pay the cost ofhis subsistence all that time at Cooke. Thrice a day his meals were sentto him from the little bachelors' mess, already sorely taxed for the"entertainment" of the members of the court, and the four poor fellowswho constituted that frontier club had been only too glad when itsmembers from other stations insisted that they should pay their share ofthe long three weeks' burden on the culinary department. But Nevins nowwas penniless, so he said, and why should impecunious infantrysubalterns support in idleness a disgraced and virtually dismissedofficer? Yet that is precisely what the government compelled them todo--or starve him. Thinking it all over during the day, Major Starkeconcluded that at least Camp Cooke had something to be thankful for, andsending for Privates Poague and Pritzlaff, he sternly rebuked them fortheir probable negligence (for "discipline must be maintained"), andwith dire threats of what they might expect in the way of punishment ifthey transgressed in the slightest way for six months to come, he badethem go back to duty, released, which they did, each with his tongue inhis cheek and a wink of the inner eye, as they strode off together andwent grinning to the guard-tents for their blankets. 

All the same Starke wished to know whither Nevins had gone, and whetheranything new had started him. This time no horse or mule haddisappeared, but the tracks of two quadrupeds were found on the Mesacoming from "Rat Hell, " as Captain Post, who had done time in Libby, named the gambling ranch outside the reservation--to a point within onehundred yards of the corral, and thence bore away southward straight asthe flight of the crow. Two reprobates in the captain's company declaredthat the black-bearded clerk arrested with Nevins, but released becausehe was a civilian over whom the military had no jurisdiction, had beenover at the ranch all the previous day. Sentry Poague frankly admittedthat he had heard horses' hoofs out on the Mesa and voices in thecaptain's tent, but saw nobody crossing his post and couldn't beexpected to in the pitchy darkness. Whither Nevins went was therefore amatter that could only be conjectured in the light of later events. Howhe went was a matter of little moment. It was good riddance to badrubbish, said Starke, until at last the next mail came from Sancho's. For nearly five days the major declared himself content if he never sawNevins again. Then he turned to and prayed with all his soul that hemight catch him--if only for five minutes. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

It was two long days' cavalry march from Sancho's to Camp Cooke, andmany a time it had taken three. Midway, very nearly, the Hassayampaemptied its feeble tribute into the murky Gila. There was water enough, such as it was, for man and beast along the way, but, except in thewinter months, both man and beast preferred the night hours for thejourney. In order to provide mounts for the three officers Blake hadleft as many of his men at Cooke, and pushed ahead with the veteranpresident two hours before the dawn. That his march was watched fromafar by mounted men he knew as soon as the sun rose upon his pathway, but Blake's only concern was that they kept at respectful distance. Notmore than half a dozen did he see, and these were as single scouts or inpairs. He felt little anxiety for Turnbull and Loring; they, too, werewell guarded. The only thing he hated about the whole affair was havingto dismount any of his men, but there were only two ambulances at Cooke, one was undergoing repairs and, the inspector being present, the postsurgeon wisely protested against the other being sent to the distantsouth. It was the plan of the party to ride leisurely to Sancho's, thereto await the coming of the stage, which should pass through on its wayto Yuma Saturday noon. 

And early Friday evening the troop went into bivouac at the same oldwillow clump, and Sancho, profusely and elaborately courteous, had comeforth, sombrero in hand, to implore the caballeros to partake of hishospitality. His brother was returned from a visit to Guaymas andMazatlan, and he had brought wine of the finest and cigars such asArizona never had known, and Sancho was manifestly disconcerted at theregrets or refusals, coldly courteous on the part of Loring, blunt andbrusque on the part of Blake. The veterans, however, saw no harm ingoing and were sumptuously entertained by mine host in the best room ofthe ranch. Blake caused a strong guard to be posted at camp, a mostunusual thing, and one instantly noted among Sancho's people, and aftermaking the rounds and giving strict instructions to the three sentries, and further ordering side lines as well as lariats for the horses--allthis as a result of a low-toned conference with Loring--he came back tofind that officer with his valise rolled in a blanket and used as abolster, while the owner lay on his back gazing dreamily up at thestars. A trooper was silently making down the bedding of the otherofficers. The sand was soft and dry, no campfire was needed, no tent, nomattress. All four were hardened campaigners and the night was warm anddewless. 

For a moment or two Blake fidgeted about. Good wine and cigars were asacceptable him as to anybody. It was Sancho and Sancho's brother hecould not stomach, and he would not be beholden to either. 

"You can think of nothing else in the way of precaution, Loring?" hepresently asked, as he threw himself down beside him, puffing at hislittle brier-root. 

"Nothing. "

"It would take a nervier gang than Arizona owns to try and rob thisoutfit, " and Blake looked complacently around among the shadowy forms ofthe troopers flitting about the bivouac. 

"We are all right so long as we've got you and your men, " said Loringquietly. 

"Well, there's no order that can come in time to take us away from you, old man. I'll send one platoon ahead at daybreak to camp halfway, andthey'll be fresh to ride into Yuma with you Sunday morning. "

Loring nodded appreciatively. 

From the open doorway of the ranch came the faint clink of glasses andthe murmurous flow of voices. Presently the boom of the veterans' joviallaugh swelled the "concourse of sweet sounds, " and Blake stirreduneasily. 

"Wonder what that old thief is giving them, " muttered he. "UncleBilly's telling his bear story. "

Quarter of an hour passed. The infant moon had sunk below the westwardhorizon. The sounds of joviality increased, and Blake's mouth watered. "Damn those heartless profligates!" he muttered. "Reckon I'll have to goand reconnoiter. You don't mind being left to your own reflections, Loring?"

"Go ahead, " said Loring, and so presently the tall, shadowy form of "thelongest-legged officer in Arizona" was dimly seen stalking forth fromthe gloom of the willows and threading its way through the openstarlight toward the bright and welcoming doorways of the ranch. Onlyone or two of the usual loungers had been seen about the premises sincethe cavalry came in. Sancho and his brother were practically destituteof other guests than the officers whom they were entertaining. Slowlyand more slowly did the lieutenant saunter, open-eared, toward the sceneof revelry. More than half the distance had he gone when, suddenly fromanother and smaller clump of willows below the ranch there camefloating on the still night, faint and cautious, the musical tinkle of aguitar, and then soft, luring, yet hardly sweet or silvery, the voice ofa girl was timidly uplifted in song. Blake knew it at once. "Thedaughter of my brother" was out there in the willows, a most unusualthing. Blake remembered how her eyes had spoken to him twice before, howshe had thrown herself upon him the night of Higgins' arrest. Could itbe, was it possible, that she was signaling to him now? Much as hiscuriosity and interest had previously been aroused by the occasionalpeeps he had had at this attractive little Mexican girl, the events ofthat night had intensified them. True, it was a moment of thrillingexcitement. Higgins, cornered like a rat, had drawn and fired, not witheither aim or idea of shooting his accuser, but in the hope of sostartling both officers that in the confusion he could leap to the backdoorway and escape. Loring's imperturbable nerve and practiced fist haddefeated that scheme and laid the deserter low, and Higgins was nowlanguishing at Yuma, awaiting trial on triple charges. But Blake for asecond or two had felt the clasp of soft arms about him, the wildflutter of a maiden heart much below his own, and Blake was human. Somewhere he had met that slender girl before. Twice he had danced atthe _bailes_ in Tucson, and once attended a masquerade, where for nearlyan hour he had enjoyed the partnership of and been tantalized by a maidof just about the stature of this dark-eyed "daughter of my brother. "Blake knew as well as does the reader that this was no time forphilandering, and had been told, but not yet taught, the wisdom ofkeeping well away from the damsels who, like the sirens of old, twangedthe vibrating strings and sang their luring songs. Why should she haveflung herself between him and the desperadoes at that perilous momentand thrown her arms around him unless--unless she was the girl he hadbeen making love to, in broken Spanish, during the _fiesta_ at Tucson?He would not have let Loring know where he was going, or why, for a gooddeal. But once away from him, Blake was alone with no one to interposeobjection, and--he went. In three minutes he had made his cautious wayto the westward willows, and his heart began beating in spite of hisdetermination to be guarded and even suspicious, for there sat thelittle señorita alone. That fact in itself should have opened his eyes, and would have done so a year or two later, but Blake was still a gooddeal of a boy, and in another moment he stepped quickly to her side andalmost swept the ground with his broad-brimmed scouting hat, as he bowedlow before her. Instantly the song ceased, the guitar dropped with anæolian whine upon the sand, and as Blake stooped to raise it she sprangto her feet--a half-stifled cry upon her lips. With smilingself-assurance he bowed low again as he would have restored theinstrument to the little hands that were half-upraised as though to warnhim back; but she began coyly retreating from the bench on which she hadbeen seated, and he quickly followed, murmuring protest and reassurancein such Spanish as he could command, declaring he had never yet hadopportunity to thank her for a deed of daring that perhaps had saved hislife (he knew it hadn't--the long-legged, nimble-tongued reprobate), andtrembling, timorous, sweetly hesitant she lingered; she even let himseize her hand and only faintly strove to draw it away. She began evento listen to his pleading. She shyly hung her pretty head and coylyturned away and furtively peeped across the starlit level toward theranch, where two dark forms serape-shrouded, were lurking at the cornerof the corral. They had come crouching forward a dozen yards whensomething, some sudden sound, drove them back to shelter, and in thenext moment Blake heard it, and the girl, too, for like a frightenedfawn she darted away and went scurrying to the rear entrance of theranch, leaving him to confront and hail two horsemen, "Gringos, "evidently, who came loping in on the Yuma trail, and at his voice theforemost leaped from saddle and called:

"Is it Lieutenant Blake? We've come with dispatches, sir, from Yuma, "and, unfastening his saddle-bag, the trooper placed a packet in theofficer's hand. 

"Come this way, " said Blake briefly, leading toward the light, andinwardly bemoaning an ill-wind that had blown him far more good than hedreamed. A few strides took him to the door of the ranch. The dispatcheswere for the president of the late court at Camp Cooke, for Turnbull, for Loring and for himself. Sending the courier to camp, he tore openhis order--a brief letter of instructions to furnish such escort asmight be deemed sufficient for the safe conduct of Lieutenant-ColonelsVance and Turnbull to Tucson. Then he waited to hear from them. WithSancho eagerly scanning their faces the two veterans had opened and readtheir orders, then looked up at each other in evident surprise. Presently they arose, and, begging their host to excuse them a momentand beckoning Blake to follow, stepped into the lighted bar beyond. Another court had been convened, another officer was to be tried, andthe two who had officiated as seniors at Camp Cooke were directed toproceed at once to the old Mexican capital for similar duty there. 

Before sunrise, escorted by a dozen troopers, Vance and Turnbull were ontheir way, their farewell words to Blake being an injunction to seeLoring and his precious charges safe to Yuma City. 

As long as he lived Gerald Blake was destined to remember the Saturdaythat dawned upon them as the little party rode away south-eastward. Eventhe men seemed oddly depressed. Neither to Turnbull, to Loring nor toBlake had this detachment suggested itself as possible. What with havingto send a large portion of his command forward on the Yuma road so as toprovide comparatively fresh horsemen to accompany the stage with itsrelays of mules, Blake found himself at reveille with just eighteen menall told, awaiting the coming of that anxiously-expected vehicle. Heprayed that it might bring at least one or two officers from Grant orBowie. He vainly sought another peep at or word with Pancha; but, though Sancho was everywhere in evidence, grave, courteous, hospitable, imperturbable; though one or two ranchmen rode in and out during themorning, and there was a little gathering, perhaps half a dozen of menand _mozos_, apparently awaiting the coming of the stage at noon, thewomen kept out of sight. At twelve the old lorgnette was brought to bearon the eastward trail, but, to the apparent surprise of the loungers, one o'clock came and no stage, and so did four and five and then Blakeand Loring took counsel together in the seclusion of the willow copse, while their men, silent and observant, gathered about the horses thirtyyards away, grooming and feeding and looking carefully to their shoeing, for there was portent on the desert air and symptoms of lively workahead. 

At six came Sancho, oppressed with grievous anxiety as to the safety ofthe stage. There has been rumors of Apache raids to the east ofMaricopa. Only three days before he had warned the caballeros--thegentlemen of the court who were going back to Grant and Bowie, to be ontheir guard every inch of the way beyond the Wells, and now his heartwas heavy. He feared that, disdainful of his caution, they had drivenstraight into ambush. Ought not the Teniente Blake to push forward atonce with his whole force and ascertain their fate? Blake bade him holdhis peace. If harm had come to that stage, said he, it was not on theeastward, but the westward run, not at the hands of Apaches, but ofoutlaws, and Sancho went back looking blacker than night and saying inthe seclusion of the corral, to beetle-browed _hermano mio_ and hisdusky wife, things that even in Spanish sounded ill and would not bepublishable in English. Both officers by this time felt that there wasmischief abroad. It was decided between them that if by midnight thestage did not arrive, Loring, with the precious packet in one saddle-bagand the court proceedings in the other, should take eight men as escortand gallop for the west until he reached the platoon sent forward atdawn. From that point the danger would be less, and with either the sameor a smaller number of fresh riders he could push on for Yuma, sendingall the others back to join Blake, who meantime, with what little forcehe had, would scout eastward for news of the stage. 

But that plan was destined never to be carried out. The long day came toan end. The darkness settled down over sandy plain and distant mountain. The silence of midnight reigned over the lonely bivouac and the somberranch, yet had not Blake given orders that every man must remain closeto the horses throughout the evening, adventurous spirits from the troopcould surely have heard the ominous whisperings within the corral andmarked the stealthy glidings to and fro. At nine o'clock the famous roanwas cautiously led forth from the gateway and close under the blackshadow of the wall, and not until well beyond earshot of the willows washe mounted and headed eastward. At ten Loring was sleeping soundly inpreparation for the night ride before him, and Blake, nervously puffingat his pipe, was listening to the low, murmurous chat where the guardwere gathered about their watchfires, when soft, timid, luring, sweet, again he heard the tinkle of that guitar. It ceased abruptly. There wasa minute of silence, then, a trifle louder, it began again; again ceasedas though waiting reply, and Blake sat up and listened. Once more, notat the westward willows, not at the ranch, not on the open plain, butsomewhere close at hand, close to his side of the bivouac, away from theguard, away from the occasionally stamping, snorting horses, and equallyfar from the dark, shadowy buildings of the stage station, and Blakeslowly, noiselessly got to his feet and, after listening one moment toLoring's deep, regular breathing, buckled on his revolver belt and stoleforth into the starlight. Yes, there was the sound again--a few notes, abar or two of the song Pancha was singing at the willows the nightbefore, and close to the edge of the willows crouched the musician. Withhis hand on the butt of his revolver, Blake strode slowly toward theshrinking form, and, beckoning, it rose and moved swiftly away. 

"Halt where you are, " growled the lieutenant, "if you want me to stayhere. "

For answer there came the same softly played bars and another gesture asthough imploring him to come farther away from hearing of the ranch oreven of his bivouac, and, whipping out his revolver, the tall troopersprang forward and a heavy hand came down on the shoulder of theshawl-hidden form, and there, trembling, imploring, ay weeping, wasPancha. Before he could speak one word she began, and, to his amaze, began in English--broken English to be sure, disjointed, incoherent, tremulous--and he listened, at first incredulous, then half-convinced, then utterly absorbed, too absorbed to note that a dark form wentscurrying from the shelter of some stunted brush straight toward theranch, whence presently a bright light shone forth and loud voicesharshly shouted the name of Pancha! Pancha! whose wrist he stillgrasped--Pancha! who, weeping, had implored him to hasten with all hismen, that the stage was not three miles away with officers from Grantaboard, that wicked men had planned to murder them to prevent theirjoining him, and now, in terror, she sought to break away. She beggedhim to release her. They would kill her if they knew----

And even as she pleaded, far out on the dark, eastward plain theresuddenly uprose a chorus of yells, a rattling fusillade, and Blakedarted back to the bivouac, shouting as he ran, "Up with you, 'C' troop!Mount, men, mount!" and then all was stir and bustle and excitement. Springing from their blanket beds the troopers threw their carbineslings over their shoulders and flew to their horses. "Never mind yoursaddles--no time for that!" yelled Blake, as he slipped the bit betweenthe teeth of his startled charger, then threw himself astride the nakedback. "Up with you and come on!" Then with a dozen ready fellows at hisheels away he darted into the gloom, guided only by the yells andflashes far out over the sandy plain. In less than two minutes everytrooper in the little command had gone spurring in pursuit, andLieutenant Loring, suddenly aroused from slumber, revolver in hand, looking eagerly about for explanation of the row, found himself standingguard over his treasure-laden saddle-bags--utterly alone. 

Then came the whish of a riata through the pulseless air, the quickwhir-r-r of the horse-hair rope through the loop as it settled down overhis head, a snap as it flew taut, a sudden and violent shock as his feetwere jerked from under him, the crack of his revolver--aimless, astunning blow on his prostrate head, then oblivion. 

CHAPTER IX. 

A week later the surgeon at Camp Cooke found himself minus one of hisambulances after all. In response to a penciled note from Blake it hadbeen hurried from what there was of the shack aggregation at that pointto what was left of Sancho's, Major Starke and the doctor with it. Theyfound much of the corral in ruins and one end of the rancho badlyscorched. "The wife of my brother, " with Pancha, and that ceremoniouscopy of the Castilian himself had disappeared, but Sancho was stillthere, a much wronged man, and Pedro and José and Concho and a decrepitmule or two, all under the surly surveillance of Sergeant Feeny and halfa dozen troopers whose comrades were afield chasing banditti through thedeserts and mountains, while those who were detailed to remain spentlong, anxious hours watching over and striving to soothe a young officerdelirious from injuries to the head and resultant fever. Loring a sickman, indeed, when the surgeon reached him; but poor Blake, wearinghimself down to skin and bone in fruitless chase, would gladly have beenin his place. 

The stage which he and his men had rushed to rescue was actually outthere to the east, as Pancha had declared, "held up" among some littlesand dunes, but it bore neither passengers nor treasure, and what onearth the robbers should have detained him for nearly twenty miles eastof Gila Bend--held him in the hot sun from nine in the morning untillate in the afternoon, then sent him on again, only to be once more"rounded to" with a furious chorus of yells and volleyings of pistolswhen within only two miles of Sancho's, that bewildered Jehu could notimagine. The marvel of it was that, though the old stage was "riddledlike a sieve, " as he said, "and bullets flew round me like a swarm ofbuzzin' bees, not one of 'em more'n just nipped me and raised a blisterin the skin. " Indeed, even those abrasions were indistinguishable, though Jake solemnly believed in their existence. Then another queerthing! Long before the lieutenant and "his fellers" reached theimperiled vehicle all but two or three of the dozen assailants wentscurrying off in the darkness, and when the cavalry came chargingfuriously through the gloom there was no one to oppose them. Jehu Jakecouldn't even tell which way the bandits had gone--every way, hereckoned; and after careering blindly about for half an hour or so, Blake's most energetic men came drifting back and said it was useless toattempt pursuit until dawn, even though that would give the renegadessix hours' start. Slowly and disgustedly Blake ordered his men to formranks and march back to camp, when suddenly an idea struck him--Loring!Loring, with his precious saddle-bags, had been left alone; and, callingfor a set of fours to follow him, Blake clapped his spurless heels tohis indignant horse's flanks and galloped for home, only to find Sanchoand Pete lamenting over the prostrate, senseless and bleeding form ofthe engineer, whose arm was still thrown protectingly over the ravishedsaddle-bags. 

The pocket containing that precious envelope was slashed open. Theenvelope and watch were gone. The record of the court in the other bagwas undisturbed. 

And then as he bathed his comrade's head and stanched the blood andstrove to call him back to consciousness, Blake saw it all, or thoughthe did, and gnashed his teeth in impotent wrath. He was tricked, betrayed, yes, possibly ruined, all by a gang of miserable "greasers, "through the medium of a pretty Mexican girl and his own wretchedimbecility. There was no name Blake didn't call himself. There wasnothing disreputable he did not not think of Sancho, but what could heprove? Sancho was a heavy loser. Sancho's best mules and all his finehorses, including the famous roan had been spirited away. The gang hadmade a wreck of the bar and a puddle of his famous liquor. Manuel, hisbrother, with his beloved wife and child, had fled in terror, saidSancho, else would they now be here nursing the heroic officer who hadstriven to defend them against such a rush of wretches. Blake drove himaway with imprecations, vowing that he, Sancho, was in collusion withthe gang, against which unmerited slur Sancho protested in sonorousSpanish, and to prove his innocence pointed to his bespattered bar-room, and as that failed to move the obdurate heart of the raging cavalryman, went sorrowfully back to the dark ranch whence there suddenly arose asheet of flame and the cry that the villains had set fire to the corralbefore they left. For half an hour the straw and hay made a fierceblaze, and the troopers turned to and saved the ranch, as Sancho knewthey would, and the actual damage was but slight. Some day Sancho wouldpresent a claim against the government for twenty times the amount andget such portion of it as was not required by the local agent andlobbying aids who rushed it through congress. Against Sancho there wasno proof whatever, and when Blake rode away at dawn to take the trail ofthe robber band he had to invoke Sancho's assistance in looking afterhis stricken friend. There were hours that day when Blake could almosthave blown his brains out. He, who prided himself on the field record hewas making, had been outwitted, tricked, utterly and ridiculouslyfooled. By heaven! if horses could hold out those rascals should not gounwhipped of justice! Bitter as was his cup the previous year, this wasbitterer still. 

Not for ten days, after a long and fruitless chase through the DragoonMountains and almost into Mexico, did Blake return to the Bend, and bythat time Loring was just gone, borne in the ambulance to Yuma. He hadregained consciousness under the doctor's care, said old Feeny, but wassorely weak and shaken, and the doctor had gone on with him. 

So ended for the time being, at least, the survey of the Gila Valley, for the surgeon at Fort Yuma coincided with the opinion of his brotherfrom Cooke that Lieutenant Loring could perform no duty for weeks, thathe should have care, rest and a sea voyage. The record of the court hadbeen sent on by mail stage to San Francisco, and after a fortnight oftotal quiet at Yuma, Loring was conveyed down the Colorado to the Gulfand shipped aboard the coasting steamer for the two weeks run around OldCalifornia and up the Pacific to Yerba Buena. The very day they sailedold Turnbull came to join him on the voyage. Not a trace had beendiscovered of the fugitive, Captain Nevins, and such suspiciouscharacters as Blake had overhauled were long since released for lack ofevidence. Sancho held the fort as imperturbably as ever. The "family ofmy brother" were reported gone to Hermosillo. 

Those were years in which the steamer, plying every month between theColorado and the Bay of San Francisco, carried heavy burdens of freight, stores, and supplies into the far territory, but took little out. Goldbeing the monetary standard of California at the time, it cost a captaina month's pay to take that two weeks' voyage. The government paid theway into the territory in the case of officers going under orders, andonce landed there a man speedily found himself too poor to think ofreturning. Therefore was the stout mariner who commanded the Idaho morethan surprised to find two army officers on his scanty passenger list. Turnbull he had met before; Loring was a stranger. 

"Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen, " said he; "you practically ownthe ship till we get to Guaymas. There we pick up some Mexican familiesgoing to 'Frisco, and two mighty pretty girls. "

"Who are they?" asked Turnbull languidly, as he sat on the upper deck, heels lifted on the taffrail, gazing out over an apparently limitlessplain, half dim vista of far-spreading sand, half of star-dotted, flawless salt water, the smoke of his cigar curling lazily aloft as theblack hull rode at anchor. 

"Daughters of old Ramon de la Cruz, for two that I know of, and somecousin of theirs, I believe. They came aboard on our up trip. The oldman likes our tap of champagne and don't care what it costs. He has moreready cash than any Mexican I know. You're a married man, colonel, buthow about the lieutenant here?"

Loring, still pallid and listless, smiled feebly and shook his head. 

"Well, here's your chance, young man, " said the bluff salt, unconsciousof giving offense. "No time like a voyage for love making, once the girlgets her sea legs on. You ought to capture one of 'em before we'rehalfway to the Golden Gate. They rate 'em at two hundred thousandapiece. Don't know how long it takes a soldier to win a prize like that, but give a sailor such a show and she'd strike her colors before wesight St. Lucas. If you don't care for ducats and only want beauty, there's that little cousin. She can sing and play your soul away; giveher half a chance and a good guitar. "

"Who's she?" queried Turnbull, balancing his half-smoked cigar betweenthe fingers, as he blew a fragrant cloud to the cloudless vault above. 

"Didn't get the family name--Pancha they called her, a slip of asixteen-year-old, going to school, perhaps. " And the captain turned awayto answer a question from his steward, leaving the two soldiers lookingintently at each other, with new interest in their eyes. 

"Blake's destroyer was a sixteen-year-old Pancha, wasn't she?" asked thecolonel in low tone. He had no mercy whatever on Blake, and wasoutspoken in condemnation of what he called his idiocy. 

Loring was silent a moment, then he drew a letter from an inner pocket. It had come with Turnbull--the last news from Arizona. "Read that whenyou've time, colonel, " said he. "Perhaps had you been in Blake's placeat his age you'd have forgotten everything but the stage and the fight. I think I should. "

And as this was the longest speech Turnbull had ever heard from Loring'slips, except his arraignment of Nevins before the court, the colonelpondered over it not a little. He took the letter and read it when, anhour later, the Idaho was plowing her lazy way southward through a dulland leaden sea. 

"I'm not the first man to be fooled by a slip of a girl, Loring, " wroteBlake. "It isn't the first time that a woman has got the better of me, and it may not be the last. But the chagrin and misery I feel is notbecause I have suffered so much, but because you have, and all throughmy fault. I suppose you know the general has ordered me relieved andsent back to my company as no longer worthy to be called a cavalryman. All the same, one of these days I mean to get a transfer. My legs aretoo long for the doughboys anyhow. Meantime, with all meekness I'll bearmy burden--I deserve it; but you'll believe me when I say it isn't thepunishment, the humiliation this has cost me that so weighs upon me now;it is the thought of your loss and your prostration. One of these days Imay find means to show you how much I feel it. Just now I have only ahint. Last year at this time my most cherished possession was my newspring style, ten-dollar Amidon. A silk hat is as out of place inArizona as a sunshade in Sitka, yet my striker has just unpacked it andasked, with a grin on his confounded mug, 'What'll I be doin' wid this, sor?'"

 "I know! Sole leather hat box and all, it goes by buckboard to your address at division headquarters. Our heads are about of the same caliber; the main difference is that yours seems loaded. The _Alta_ says silk hats are now worn on sunny mornings. Sport mine for me, though it be of the vintage of a by-gone year. I shall not show my face in civilization till I have lived down my shame. So now for two years at least of Yuma and the consolation to be derived from the solitary study of philosophy and Shakespeare. 

 "Yours in meekness of spirit, "GERALD BLAKE. 

 "P. S. --They say that Sancho's brother's real name is Escalante. If ever you come across one of that race keep your eyes peeled. "

Another day and the billows of the gulf were breaking under the Idaho'scounter and hissing sternward in snowy foam, answering the rush of astrong southwest wind. It was late at evening when the black hull wentreeling in toward the lights of Guaymas, and the massive anchor, withprodigious splash dove for the sandy bottom, but late as it was theshore boats and lighters came pulling to the gangway stairs, andmerchants, clerks and customs officers nimbly scrambled up the side, andthen followed a number of passengers, cigarette smoking and cacklingabout the swarming deck, and Turnbull and the Engineer hung over therail and watched for the promised boatload of beauty and presently itcame. Two or three small boats were rowed alongside, and there wereglimpses of shrouded forms and there were sounds of joyous laughter andmurmured gallantries of dark-eyed, dark-skinned caballeros, and thegrowling injunctions of, presumably, paterfamilias. And presently theladder-like stairs were cleared, and, one after another, woman afterwoman was assisted up the narrow way, and came sailing into the zone oflight from the polished reflectors, elder women first, then slender, sparkling-eyed damsels whose white teeth gleamed as they chatted withtheir escorts. Two undeniably attractive, Spanish-looking girls wereobjects of most assiduous care. Then came a third, younger, a mere slipof a maid, with but a single cavalier, a grim, grizzled, stern-lookingMexican, who glanced sharply about as he set foot on the solid deck, andthen, without a word, Loring's hand was placed on the colonel's arm, andthe lieutenant's eyes said "Look!" for as the girl's face was turned foran instant toward them, there stood revealed the dusky little maid ofthe Gila, Blake's siren--Pancha. 

CHAPTER X. 

Not for many moons did that voyage of the Idaho lose first place in thememory of the bevy of passengers who watched the lights of Guaymasfading away astern that April night. All had been bustle and gayetyaboard during an hour of sheltered anchorage. Señor de la Cruz hadverified the captain's verdict and opened a case of Sillery and besoughtall hands to drink to a joyous and prosperous voyage for his beloveddaughters, their duenna and his little niece--their cousin fromHermosillo. "All hands" would have included the ship's company had thecaptain permitted, so hospitable was the Mexican, and indeed wasintended to include every soul on the passenger list, most of themboarding the boat at Guaymas. The Señor Coronel Turnbull was formallypresented to the Señor de la Cruz and by him to his charming family andtheir many friends, but the junior officer, on the score of recent andsevere illness, had begged to be excused. Loring stood alone at thetaffrail, listening in thoughtful silence to the sound of revelry withinthe brightly-lighted cabin, while the hoarse screeching of the'scape-pipe drowned all other voices and proclaimed the impatient hasteof the skipper to be off. Straight, but often storm-swept, was thesoutherly run to La Paz--over on the desolate shore of the long, aridpeninsula, and the green surges were rolling higher every moment andbursting in thunder into clouds of wind-driven, hissing spray on therocks beyond the point. Wind and wave were both against their good ship, and every officer and man was at his station awaiting the order to weighanchor. The mail sacks were aboard. The consul had gone down over theside and still Don Ramon seemed unable to part from his loved ones andthe Idaho's champagne. It was the captain who had finally to put abruptstop to the lingering leave-takings. 

"I must be off at once, " he said. "Come, Don Ramon, we'll take the bestof care of these ladies and land them all at 'Frisco within thefortnight. Kiss 'em all around now and jump for your boat. Come, Señor--I didn't catch the name. Ah, yes, Escalante--the father of theSeñorita Pancha, I suppose. No--only her uncle? Well, I'll be her unclenow, " and so saying he led the way to the deck. Loring saw the livelyparty come surging forth from the companionway--señoras, señoritas, gray-haired men and gay young gallants. There was a moment of clasping, clinging embraces, of straining arms and lingering kisses, of crowdingsand murmurings here and there, some little sobbing and many tear-weteyes as the father was finally hurried down the ladder, and then therewas further delay and shouts for Escalante, and not until then didLoring, silently watching the animated throng on the port side, becomeaware of two dark forms in the shadow of the deckhouse on the oppositequarter. One was that of a slender girl, and she was sobbing, she waspraying in eager words not to be sent away; she was imploring pitifullyto be taken back to the shore. Loring had studied Spanish long enoughto understand almost every word, and even before he realized that he wasan unwonted listener he had heard both her sobbing plea and the abrupt, almost cruel answer. 

"You have no home, nor has your father. You may thank heaven for thechance to get away. "

The second officer came bustling round in search of them, and, leavingthe girl shrinking and sobbing on the narrow bench in the shadow, theMexican was hurried off. Before the little boats had fairly cast adriftand the swinging steps were raised the throb of the screw was feltchurning the waters of the bay, and as the steamer slowly gathered wayand her bow swung gradually seaward, women and girls, kerchief waving, came drifting back along the rail, leaning far over and throwing kissesto the tossing shallops on the dark waves beneath, then gathering aboutthe stunted flagstaff at the stern, calling loudly their parting words, all unconscious of Loring, who had stepped aside to give them room andso found himself close to little Pancha, lost to everybody in thedesolation of a loneliness and grief that Loring could not see unmoved, yet could not reconcile with what he had believed of her. 

Up to this moment he had heard of her only as an artful girl, theconfederate of thieves and ruffians. Up to this moment he had seen heronly once, the afternoon she threw herself on Blake, as Blake and he hadboth come to believe, to prevent his drawing revolver on the two rascalsat the ranch. Yet, never had Loring heard such pathetic pleading, neverhad he seen child or woman in such utter abandonment of woe. Never hadhe thought it possible that Pancha, the siren of Sancho's ranch--cold, crafty, luring, designing, treacherous as any Carmen ever sinceportrayed upon the stage--could be capable of such intensity of feeling. Drawing his uniform "cape" snugly about him, for now the sharp sea windwas whistling through the cordage and chilling his fever-weakened frame, Loring leaned against the rail, gazing back at the receding shores, trying not to hear the girl's sobbing. The chatter of the flock of womenwas incessant. Turnbull and two Guaymas merchants had joined the group, but all were intent on those harbor lights now fast glimmering to meresparks upon the sea, and the lonely girl sat there forgotten. Not oncewas voice uplifted in question as to what had become of her. Everymoment now the stern was lifted higher in air and then dropped deeperinto the roaring, hissing waters, and women tightened their hold uponthe taffrail and gave shrill little shrieks, and huddled closertogether, and presently one of the elders fell back and begged to be ledbelow, and then another, and by the time the last glimmer of the townhad been hid from view and only the steady gleam of the lighthouse shoneforth upon their foaming wake, the hardiest of the gay little party ofthe earlier evening had been carefully assisted down the brass-boundstairway, and when five bells tinkled windily somewhere forward, there, with little hands clasped about the stanchion, a shawl thrown over herhead, that head pillowed in her arms, there alone in the darkness andthe rush of the wind and sea, there, the very picture of heartbrokengirlhood, still sat Pancha, and Loring could bear it no longer. 

He was thinking over his Spanish to be sure of his words when thestarboard doors of the companion way were suddenly thrown open, and inthe bright light from within two burly forms stepped unsteadily forth, then lurched for the nearest support, and Loring heard the jovial tonesof Turnbull:

"He must be up here--or overboard; he's nowhere below!" Then glancingsternward, "O! Loring!" he shouted, and at the name Pancha's little darkhead was suddenly uplifted, and a pair of black eyes, red-rimmed andswollen with weeping, gazed, startled, toward the dark figures. For thelife of him Loring could not answer the hail. Turnbull's voice and wordsalone had been sufficient to rouse her from a depth of woe, and to giverise to new and violent distress. She was trembling, and he couldplainly see it. To answer would only announce to the frightened girlthat the man whose name was sufficient to cause such evident dismay wasstanding there just beyond her seat, within a few paces of her, and hadprobably been there for some time. Quickly, watching his chance, as theIdaho careened to port, Loring shot round the deckhouse and made his wayforward until he reached the companion stairs on that side, and inanother moment was clinging to the outer knob of the doorway on theother, and answering the eager questions as to where he'd been andwhether he better not turn in. "Have a brandy and water, sir, " urged thecolonel's new companion. "Nothing like it to head off _mal de mer_. We're in for a lively night. Half the women are sick already, and thecolonel here was turning white about the gills. "

"The air in the cabin was close after all that champagne. It's fresh inthe staterooms, though, " answered Turnbull. "Come on, Loring. It's timefor you to be abed. " Then in low tone he queried: "What's become of thechild? Did she see you? Has she got back to shore?"

For answer Loring pointed to the dark figure shrinking from view half adozen yards away toward the heaving stern. Their jovialfellow-passenger again interposed. 

"Come, gentlemen, brandy and water's what we need, ain't it?" TheIdaho's champagne had evidently taken effect. 

"Right!" said Turnbull "Run down and order for us, quick, or it'll betoo late. We'll join you in a minute. " The burly merchant dove for thedoorway on the next stomach-wrecking lurch, and collided with thewhite-capped stewardess, hastening up, with anxiety in her eyes. The twoofficers clung to the mizzen shrouds opposite the companionway as sheemerged from the broad light into the darkness of the wind-swept deck. It was a moment before she could distinguish objects at all. Then withpracticed step she went swiftly to the crouching figure at the distantend of the long seat. 

"I have learned something of her, " murmured Turnbull. "That was herfather's brother, Escalante, who came aboard with her. That woman atSancho's was not her mother. _She_ has been dead for many a year. Shewas own sister to De la Cruz. There is something back of their sendingthis girl to San Francisco. Hush! Here she comes!"

With her arm thrown about the drooping girl, the stewardess came slowlyleading her to the doorway. The swinging portals had slammed shut in thelast plunge of the Idaho, and as the buoyant craft rose high on the nextbillow, Turnbull and Loring both turned to open them. The light shonefull on their calm, soldierly faces as the stewardess thanked them, andthe shrinking child lifted up her frightened eyes for one brief moment, glanced quickly from one to the other, then, with a low cry, slipped, limp and senseless, through the woman's arms and fell in a dark heapupon the deck. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Another day and the Idaho was battling for her life and that of everysoul aboard. Forging her way southward, she took the furious buffets ofthe gale on the starboard quarter--"the right front, " as Turnbull wouldhave put it had he not been too ill to care a fig where she was hit, andonly wished she might go down if that would keep her still. Sea aftersea burst over the dripping decks and tossed her like a cockle shellupon the waters. Time and again the bows would plunge deep in somerushing surge and then, uplifting, send torrents washing aft and pourcataracts from her sides. Long before the dawn of day the red-eyedcommander had ordered the southward course abandoned and headed hislaboring craft for the opposite shores. Harbor there was none north ofthe deep sheltered bay of La Paz, but there would be relief from thetremendous poundings of the billows when once under the lee of OldCalifornia. Obedient to her helm, the Idaho now met "dead ahead" bothwind and sea. The rolling measurably ceased. The pitching fore and aftcontinued, but the passenger list by this time cared no longer todiscriminate. It was all one to all but one of their number. Loring, ofthe engineers, thanks to long weeks of illness of another sort, wasmercifully exempted from the pangs of seasickness, but the sights andsounds between decks were more than could long be borne, and, making hisway forward shortly after dawn, he had succeeded in borrowing a sparesou-wester and pair of sea boots from the second officer, and, equippedin these and a rubber coat, leaving nothing but his nose and mouth inevidence, he was boosted up the narrow stairway to the shelter of thepilot-house on the uppermost deck--the Idaho had no bridge--and there hesaw the sun come up to the meridian and the sea go gradually down as thesteamer found smoother waters under the lee of San Ildefonso. Onlylightly laden, the stanch little craft had well-nigh "jumped out of herboots, " as the jovial skipper expressed it, and now, all brine andbeaming satisfaction after his long hours of stormy vigil, he clappedLoring on the shoulder, complimented him on his possession of a "seastomach" and ordered coffee served forthwith. They were steaming slowlyalong at half-speed now, taking a breathing spell before attempting thenext round, and the captain waxed confidential. 

"What's wrong with that pretty little niece?" he asked. "She was brightenough the day they came aboard on our up trip. Now, the stewardesstells me she fainted dead away and has been begging to be put ashore allnight. "

Loring couldn't say. 

"But you helped carry her down, you and Turnbull. The stewardess saysyou were both very kind to her, where her own people neglected her. Ididn't fancy that scrub Escalante. Do you know anything about him or herown people?"

"Nothing--to speak of, " said Loring. 

"Fernandez, one of those young Guaymas swells, says the mother was ownsister to De la Cruz--married against his wishes when she was a meregirl--died a few years later, and that Don Ramon offered to adopt andeducate her little girl, but only lately would the Escalantes give herup. All I know is that she's too damned miserable about something elseto be even seasick like the rest of 'em. You'd a-been down there withTurnbull if you hadn't just had more'n your share of illness, " added he, with the mariner's slight disapprobation of the landsman who defiesinitiations of Neptune. 

"Very possibly, " said Loring. 

"The purser tells me Escalante gave him a little packet belonging toher--very valuable, which he ordered kept in the safe until their agentshould call for it at 'Frisco. "

"Indeed!" said Loring, looking up in quick interest. 

"Fact, " said the skipper. "Now, have some more coffee? I'm going to turnin for forty winks. Let the steward know when you want anything. Nobodyelse will. We've got to face some more rollers after awhile. I dassen'tgo inside Carmen Island. "

But Loring had something more engrossing to think of than breakfast orluncheon. So there was a little packet in the purser's safe, was there?Valuable and not to be delivered except to their agent in 'Frisco. Itwas in Pancha's name, yet not subject to Pancha's order. Why thatdiscrimination? And it was given the purser by Escalante--brother of_the_ Escalante--another brother of the accomplished sharper of Sancho'sranch. A precious trinity of blood relations were these! Small wonderDon Ramon, had opposed his girl sister's union with one of their number. Now, what on earth could that small packet contain, and was it likelythat the valuables were any more valuable than those snatched from hissaddle-bags the night of the assault at Gila Bend?--the watch anddiamonds of the late Captain Nevins now vanished into thin air, apparently, for not a trace of him had appeared since the night he rodeaway from Camp Cooke. 

In genuine distress of mind, Loring had written from Yuma, as soon asthe doctor would permit, to the address penned by Nevins in presence ofthe court, informing that vagabond officer's wife that the valuables hehad been charged to place in her hands had been forcibly taken from him, after he himself had been assaulted and stricken senseless; that everyeffort had been made to recover them, but without success; that hedeplored their loss and her many misfortunes, and begged to be informedif he could serve her in any other way. The doctors had promised himthat he would be restored by a sea voyage. It would be three weeks, probably, before he could reach San Francisco, and meantime he knew fromthe captain's admission that she was probably in need. 

"No one, " wrote Loring, "is dependent upon me, and I beg your acceptanceas a loan, as a temporary accommodation, or as anything you please, ofthe inclosed draft. " (It covered nearly every dollar he happened to haveto his credit in the bank at San Francisco, though he had pay accountsstill collectible. ) It took nearly ten days for answer to reach him, and Loring hid himself away to read it when the letter came, addressedin a hand he knew too well:

 "Naomi, my beloved sister, is prostrated by her sorrows and anxieties, " it began, "and I must be her amanuensis--I who would die for her, yet who shrink from this task, well knowing, though she does not, how hard it is to write to one to whom I have given perhaps such infinite pain. Indeed, I should not have had courage to write had she not required it of me, had not your most generous offer and action demanded response. But for your aid my heartbroken sister and I would by this time have had no roof to cover our heads. These people had refused to house us longer. As soon as she is well enough to move and I can obtain the means from Eastern friends we shall sail for New Orleans, where she expects to find friends and employment, and she bids me say that within the year you shall be repaid. Meantime the thought that you, too, have been made a sufferer, all on account of that unprincipled scoundrel who has deceived and deserted her, weighs upon her spirits as it does on mine. It is not the loss of the jewels (though we would have been beyond the possibility of want had they reached her) that we mourn; it is that one whom I fear I have sorely angered, perhaps past all forgiveness, should have to suffer so much more on our account, and yet if you only knew--if I could only explain! But this is futile. Despise me if you will, yet believe that my gratitude is beyond words. 

 "GERALDINE ALLYN. 

 "P. S. --Should you care to see--sister on your arrival we shall probably still be here. "

Then there had come, not to him but to the post surgeon at Yuma, anotherletter just before Loring started down the Colorado. The doctor was withhis patient at the moment, and the superscription caught the latter'seye. The doctor changed color and looked embarrassed as he read. Evidently he did not desire to be questioned, nor was he, at the time, for Loring had a way of thinking before he spoke, but as the doctorcompleted certain injunctions at parting, the engineer turned full uponhim:

"Any news of Nevins in the letter you got this morning?"

The doctor flushed, looked bothered and confused, then finally fishedthe letter from an inner pocket. 

"Read it yourself, " said he, and turned away. It was from Miss Allyn. Itapologized for intruding on a stranger, on his time and patience, butshe knew he had been Mr. Loring's medical adviser, and she feltcompelled to make certain inquiries, her sister being still unable towrite for herself. The doctor was probably aware that Mr. Loring hadwritten apprising them of the loss of certain articles of great valuethat had been intrusted to his care and intended for them. He hadexpressed the utmost sorrow and had tendered certain reimbursement (thatcheck was for two hundred dollars, not a cent less), not a fortieth partof the value of the lost articles, probably, but now they were inreceipt of a letter from Captain Nevins that must have come by privatehand to San Francisco, telling them that he must go forth to seek hisfortunes anew; that his wife would never hear from him until he couldcome with full hands; that he had sent her every penny and possessionhe had--enough to keep her in comfort--and if Lieutenant Loring did notpromptly deliver the same to take legal steps to compel him to do so, ashe, Nevins, was now convinced the officer might appropriate them to hisown use, if he could find any way to cover his breach of trust, such asswearing they were stolen from him. Captain Nevins had written otherthings in condemnation of Mr. Loring which neither Mrs. Nevins norherself could believe; but--it did seem strange that an officer couldfind no safe method of sending valuable jewels when so much depended onhis fidelity. 

Loring read no further. His blue eyes were blazing already and his facewas white with wrath when he returned the missive to his friend, who, knowing nothing of Loring's past infatuation for the writer, wondered atsight of his emotion. 

"Why, Loring, " said he, "you take this shallow girl too seriously. It'sthe way with women all over the world. They can never wholly acquit aman of complicity when they have suffered a loss. If that package werewith you on the Idaho and she was to go down in midocean and the jewelrywith her, some women would say you scuttled the ship in order to robthem. "

The doctor's name, it must be observed, is unrecorded, because of theextremity of his cynicism. He went back to Yuma and his duties andstowed that letter away, to be answered later on. What the writer saidher sister desired most to know was whether Mr. Loring had sustained anyinjury that might affect his mind or memory, and the doctor sniffedindignantly at the notion while we read, yet marveled much at the effectthat half-uttered accusation had on his usually calm, self-poisedpatient. He spoke of it to Turnbull when that veteran came hurrying inby stage and followed Loring down the murky stream, only just in time tocatch the steamer, but Turnbull paid faint heed. Loring was still weak, he said, and a man of sensitive honor might well be wrathful at suchinsinuations. 

And now as Loring clung to the rail upon the lofty deck and gazed outover the waste of tumbling waters toward the barren shores, he wasthinking deeply of that letter, of the strange bent of mind that coulddictate such unjustifiable suggestion--if not accusation. He wasthinking, too, of Pancha and that little packet in the purser's safe, when suddenly that officer himself came popping up the narrow stairwayand poked his unprotected head into the whistling wind. 

"Lieutenant, come below and have a bite while we're here off Ildefonso. We'll be turning handsprings in half an hour, " and Loring followed tothe steward's cuddy where a smoking luncheon awaited them, and thesilent soldier fell to with the appetite that follows fever. Purser andsteward looked on with admiration. 

"I'll prescribe a course of typhoid to the next friend of mine thatcontemplates a voyage like this, " said the former presently. "It madeyou invulnerable, but was it typhoid?"

"No--some head trouble. "

"Sunstruck?" queried the purser. "Hot as it is, that don't often happenin Arizona--too dry. "

"Struck, but not by sun--pistol-butt, perhaps, " said Loring. "Nightattack of Gila Bend--robbers. "

"Oh, Lord, yes! I remember. I heard about that, " said the genial purser. "Got away with some money, didn't they?"

"No money, but with a valuable package, " and the blue eyes were fixedintently on the purser as he spoke, while the steward uncorked anotherpint of Margaux. "A tin box about eight by three, containing a watch andjewels. You sometimes get such for safekeeping, do you not?"

"Got one now, " was the prompt reply, as the officer smacked his lips andheld out his glass for another sip of the red wine of France. "OldEscalante gave it to me at Guaymas. It's the little señorita's. "

CHAPTER XII. 

The afternoon and night that followed brought little comfort to thecabin passengers. Not till nearly dark did the steamer find the shelterof another island, and all the intervening hours she wallowed in thetrough of the sea, with the wind abeam, and by the time the heights ofCarmen Island loomed between them and the red glow of the sunset skies, Turnbull had thrice wished himself in hotter climes than even Arizona, and could only feebly damn his junior for coming down to ask if therewere not something he could do for him. 

"Yes, take this pistol and shoot me, " moaned the sufferer. "No, ofcourse I don't want brandy and water, nor you nor anybody. It's simplyscandalous for you to be up and well. Go 'way!" And though Loring sorelyneeded counsel, he felt that Turnbull was in no mood for talk, and soclimbed back on deck again. He had made up his mind to tell the purserthe whole story and to ask him to examine the contents of the package. All the livelong night the Idaho plowed and careened through the rollingseas, gaining scant relief off Santa Catalina and San José, but when inthe undimmed splendor of the morning sun she swept proudly into theplacid, land-locked harbor of old La Paz, Loring was the only man amongher passengers to appear on deck. Even after she dropped anchor and oneor two bedraggled victims were hoisted from below and dropped over theside to be rowed ashore, none of the women of the gay Guaymas party wasable to climb the stairs. The wind was gone by sundown, and the Idahoonce more steering coastwise for Cape San Lucas. The night wore on andLoring was still alone when, just as the tinkle of the ship's bell toldthat nine o'clock had come, with a soft, warm air drifting off the land, a fragile little form issued slowly from the companionway, and thestewardess smiled invitingly on the blue-eyed officer, as thoughbegging him to aid her feeble charge to a seat. 

"I have brought the señorita up for half an hour. I made her come, " saidshe, as she dumped the pile of shawls into a spreading chair and beganpreparing a nest, while Pancha, turning away at sight of Loring, sank tothe end of the bench, the very seat she occupied as they put to sea fromGuaymas. But now it was Loring who tendered his arm, and, calmlyignoring her evident if unspoken protest, aided in lifting her from thebench and seating her in the depths of the easy reclining chair. Thestewardess, with practiced hand, carefully tucked the rugs about her, and bidding the little damsel make the most of the soft, salt air, whileshe herself ran below to prepare her chocolate, would have gone at oncebut for Pancha's trembling, yet restraining hand. The child seemed tocling to her in desperation. Rapidly and in low tone she poured forth atorrent of pleading, and the kind-hearted woman looked about her inperplexity and distress. 

"What can I do, sir?" said she to Loring, in English. "This poor littlething has eaten nothing since she came aboard. She has cried herselfsick. She is as weak as a baby and must have food, yet she will not letme go. "

"Stay with her until she is calmer, " said Loring. "I'll get what isneeded. "

"But I cannot. The other ladies call for me incessantly. "

A little disk of gold was slipped quickly into the disengaged hand. "Letthem call awhile but don't you go, " was the double answer. 

It is odd to note how soon the troubled waves subside along those summershores. The Idaho was only lazily bowing and courtesying to Old Neptunenow. A long, languorous heave of the billows, as though worn out withthe furious lashing of the last few days, was the only greeting of thebroadening sea as the steamer rounded the southeast headland and slowlybore away for Cape San Lucas. Little Pancha's dusky head was restingwearily, yet resignedly, on the pillow, her hand still clasping that ofthe stewardess, as an attendant from below appeared with a little trayand some scalding hot chocolate, some tender slices of the breast ofchicken, some tempting little dainties were quickly set before her. "Make her take them, " whispered Loring from the shadows, and, once theeffort was made and the "ice broken, " the dark-eyed invalid ate almosteagerly. At three bells the stewardess was allowed to slip away for justa little more chocolate, and, glancing furtively, fearfully about her, Pancha was aware of a dim masculine form seated not ten feet away. Sheknew it was Loring, and yet could not move. She felt that he mustpresently rise and accost her, and she shrank from the meeting indismay, yet soon began to look again, and to note that he had notchanged his attitude. Apparently indifferent to her presence, he wasgazing dreamily out across the slowly-heaving billows, wherein the starswere dancing. The stewardess was gone full quarter of an hour, and inall that time he never even once glanced her way, and poor Pancha foundher eyes flitting toward him every little while in something almostakin to fascination. Could it be that he had--forgotten?--or that he didnot recognize her? Yet she had heard how both Loring and the other, thatolder officer, the Colonel Turnbull, had carried her below as she slowlyrallied from her fainting spell two nights before. Surely she thoughtshe remembered seeing recollection or recognition in the eyes of both, yet now when he had opportunity to accuse her, not one word did heattempt. She was warmed and comforted by the chocolate and the food. Sheenjoyed the second cup just brought her. She begged the stewardess tostay, yet only faintly protested when told she had to go. Once againPancha was alone when the chiming tinkle, four bells, told that teno'clock had come, and then for a moment she turned cold again and shrankwithin her rugs and wraps, for Loring slowly and deliberately rose andlooked toward her. Now he was coming. Now he would speak. Now he woulddemand of her to explain her part in the wicked thing that had happened. She dreaded, yet she longed to say, for she had a story that she couldeagerly tell--to him. For a moment her heart lay still, and then leapedand fluttered uncontrollably. Slowly the shadowy fellow-passenger hadfound his feet. Steadily he looked, as though straight at her, fornearly a minute, then as slowly and deliberately turned his back andwalked away forward. When, nearly an hour later, the stewardess came tolead her below, and the purser and one of the ship's officers had bothbeen to inquire if she felt better, and to tell her to be of good cheer, she'd be all right on the morrow and trolling for dolphin on the bluePacific, though she saw Loring slowly pacing up and down, though twicehe passed so close to her that by stretching forth her tiny foot shecould have checked or tripped him, not once again did she detect so muchas a glance at her. 

And yet, when a little later the stewardess tucked her in her whiteberth, and invented messages and inquiries from her prostrated aunt andcousins in neighboring staterooms, that designing woman wove a taleabout the blue-eyed, silent officer pacing the lonely deck--how anxioushe was to do something for the little invalid--how eagerly he had goneand ordered for her, and superintended the preparation of that daintylittle supper--how he had bidden the stewardess to stay by her andsoothe her, and was so deeply interested. High and low, rich and poor, they love romance, these tender hearts, and for that reason, doubtless, no reference did Madame Flores make of the five-dollar gold-piece thathad found its way to her ready palm. "And he spoke Spanish beautifully, did the Señor Teniente, " said Madame Flores, whereat did Pancha's heartbegin to flutter anew, for that meant that he must have heard andunderstood her pleadings. 

And so it happened that till long after midnight the child lay wide-eyedand awake, listening to that steady, measured tread upon the upper deck. Strange and sad and eventful had been that young life thus far. Whatstrange new thing had Fate in store for her now?

The Idaho dropped anchor at San Lucas and put off a passenger and tookon the mails--two bags with flanks as flat as the sandy strand on whichthe long white line of breakers beat in ceaseless, soothing melody. Thebroad blue ocean glistened under the sunshine of another day, and latein the afternoon one or two pallid and attenuated shapes were aided tothe deck, where Pancha had been reclining ever since noon, and thecaptain had come and rallied her upon her big, pathetic eyes and hollowcheeks, and coaxed her to promise to play her guitar that evening, andthe purser had been polite and the stewardess had brought up anappetizing lunch, and Colonel Turnbull put in an appearance towardsundown (a grewsome face was his) and all this time Mr. Loring waseither briskly pacing the deck or reading in a sheltered nook back ofthe purser's cabin, but never once did he address her or intrude uponher meditations, and Pancha's spirits and courage--or was it innatecoquetry?--began to ferment. That evening no less than five passengersappeared at table, though all five did not remain through the severalcourses. That evening Pancha was again tucked in her chair, and CousinInez was aided from her room and placed beside her, and very attentivewas Mr. Traynor, the purser, though fair Inez was but languid andunresponsive still, and kept her veil about her face, and ColonelTurnbull came and poured champagne for both with lavish hand, and vowedit was specific against further assaults of the salty seas, and stillMr. Loring never spoke a word. With the sparkling sunshine of yetanother day, the little maid was early on the shining deck, fresh fromits matutinal ablutions, and there was Loring taking his early exercise, striding up and down, up and down, and drinking in the glorious, invigorating sea air; but even now he came no nearer, and she who fearedat first to venture to her accustomed seat, lest he might take advantageof her solitude and come and ask things or say things she could not bearto hear, finally sidled along one side while he was patrolling theother, made her timid way to the stern and stood there clinging to theflagstaff, and became absorbed in the rush of the foaming, boilingwaters unrolling a gradually narrowing streak of dazzling white throughthe blue-green waste of billows, all sparkling in the slanting sunshine. Wheeling in flapping circles overhead, skimming the crested waves, settling down and lazily floating on the heaving flood, so many dots ofsnow upon the sapphire, the flock of gulls sailed onward with the ship, white scavengers of the sea, and sometimes dropped so close to the railon wide extended wing that Pancha could plainly see the eager little redbeads of eyes, could almost bury her soft cheek in the thick plumage oftheir fleecy breasts. Away out toward the invisible coast a three-masterwas bowling along under full spread of canvas, and, midway between, somehuge black fish were plunging through the swelling brine. Early as itwas the deck hands had cast astern the stout trolling line, and far intheir wake the spinning, silvery bait came leaping and flashing from thenorthward slope of each succeeding wave, and Pancha, who had seen theprevious day a dolphin hauled in to die in swiftly changing, brillianthues upon the deck, tested the taut lanyard with her slender fingers, wondering whether she alone could triumph over the frantic struggles ofthe splendid fish, or what she would do if she found she could not. Itwas an hour to breakfast time. Only Loring and herself had yet appearedon deck, and she stole a peep at him. There he was tramping up and downas though he had to finish a thousand laps within a given time, andstood at least a hundred laps behind. Four days earlier the child lookedwith terror to the possibility of his even drawing near her. Now she wasbeginning to wonder if he never would again. Five days before she couldhave sobbed her heart out, praying not to be subjected to thepossibility of his asking her a question. Now she was wondering if hedid not even care to ask--if indeed she would ever have a chance totell. 

She did not know, poor little maid, that late the previous evening, after consultation between Turnbull and Loring, the latter had asked Mr. Traynor to place a packet of his within the safe, and that then andthere Traynor had permitted him a peep at the valuable parcel to bedelivered to Escalante's representative in San Francisco. Loring hadbeen allowed to "heft" it in his hand, to curiously study the seals andsuperscription, to satisfy himself it could not be the tin case stolenfrom him at Sancho's, for this one was smaller, yet not to satisfyhimself it did not contain the missing watch and diamonds, for it wasbig enough to hold them. Pancha did not know that the two officers hadagreed upon a plan of action to be put in operation the moment they werewithin the Golden Gate. She did not dream that the thoughts of thesilent officer dwelt on her and her past intently as did hers on him. She was heartsick, lonely and oppressed with anxieties, such as seldomfall to the lot of maidens of sixteen, yet her heart was beating withthe hope that lives in buoyant health and youth. She had left the fatherwhom she devotedly loved and had believed all that a father could orshould be, had received his parting blessing at Hermosillo and hisfaltering promise to soon be with her--at Guaymas. She had been radiantwith the thought of soon again springing to his arms when the Idahostopped there on the northward trip. She had been stunned and strickenwhen told it was his wish she should go with her cousins to SanFrancisco, dwell with them there, be educated there, and without hope ofagain seeing him until he could come to her perhaps late in the summer. She had then been told that his life was threatened and that hatedGringos and suspicious compatriots, both, were thirsting for his blood. She had been told that she herself was in danger of arrest forcomplicity in robberies at Gila Bend--she, who had overheard the plot tomeet the stage, murder the passengers and rob the mails, at least thatwas what the woman whom she was bidden to respect as her stepmother hadfearfully told her and asked if there were no way in which she couldwarn Blake. How was she to know, poor child, what would result? Howcould she help shrinking from sight of the officers she had watched withsuch eager interest at Sancho's, when she was later told they wereseeking her father's life--told that, could they force a confession fromher, nothing on earth could save him? Yet here was the gray-hairedcolonel devoting himself to Inez and being kind to her own tremblingself. Here was the Teniente Loring who had been lovely to her, said thestewardess, until he saw her terror, her shrinking from him, and nowwhen she longed to tell him her simple story, he would not come nearher. Of the packet and its contents she knew next to nothing. Of theirintention to secure it and, if need be, her arrest with it, the momentthey reached the wharf at San Francisco, she could not dream. That thatfated packet was destined never to reach the Golden Gate, that everyplan and project, based on the safe return of the Idaho to port, wasdoomed to die, no one of her passengers or crew could possibly havepredicted this beaming April morning as she cleft the billows on hernorthward way. Pancha was only wondering how and when Loring's silencewould end, when within the minute the end came. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The waiters were just beginning to set the tables for breakfast in the"saloon" beneath the broad skylight. The crew had ceased the morning"squilgeeing" and swabbing forward, and were busy stowing away mops, buckets and brooms. One or two passengers had crawled up the companionway and dropped into seats amidships, staring in envy, if notdisapproval, at the swinging stride of the young officer whose cheekswere beginning to glow again with the flush of health, and Pancha, clinging to her perch at the stern, after following him with her eyesfar up the deck until she knew he had almost reached the point where hesuddenly faced about in his swift march, again resolutely turned herback upon the Idaho and all that appertained to her, and found herselffor the fortieth time gazing out over the glistening wake, and for thefirst time with a thrill of excitement. The taut trolling line wassnapping and swaying, and far astern something gleaming in the slant ofthe sunshine came springing into view from the crest of a wave, thendiving into the depths of the next and darting to right and left beneaththe heaving waters--a dolphin! a beauty! she knew in an instant, andgrasping the cord she strove with all her strength to haul in. For asecond or two it came readily enough, then with sudden jerk, whizzedtaut again, as the game victim made a magnificent dash for liberty. Again she laid hold and, bracing her slender feet, threw her wholeweight on the line and pulled away; again with only temporary success, for the dolphin only shook himself and struggled, but suddenly dartingforward, he as suddenly slackened the line and Pancha, who had beenpulling for dear life with set teeth and straining muscles, fellsuddenly back and was spared a hard tumble only by a pair of strong, clasping arms that quickly righted, if they did not as quickly release, her, and Pancha, furiously blushing, excitedly panting, could only showher white teeth one instant as she fluttered out a faint "Gracias" andwriggled out of the gentleman's embrace, then with the instinct of hersport-loving race, grabbed again for the line and now there was seasonedmuscle behind her, and the dolphin knew he had met his master. Hand overhand they pulled away, five, ten, fifteen fathoms, and the dripping cordcurled upon the deck, and at last the gleaming beauty of the Pacificseas came leaping into view and swinging at the stern, and then Pancha, with sparkling eyes and eagerly flushing cheeks, ducked out of the wayas Loring skillfully swung her prize aboard and sent the magnificentfellow gasping and flapping upon the deck. 

And so at last the spell was broken. He had spoken slowly and with gravekindness in his modulated voice a few words of the stately and sonoroustongue she loved, and now in the fresh, sweet air of the morning, in thegladness of the ocean breeze and the heyday of life and youth, these twostood there at the taffrail of the Idaho, she so slender, dark andwillowly, he almost Saxon in his blue-eyed, fair-haired, fair-skinnedmanliness, alone with each other and their prize. The child who hadfainted at sight of him less than a week agone, was peeping shyly up athim now, and thinking how good a face was that, so fresh and fair andstrong, with its smooth-shaven chin and cheeks, its round white throat, and the flawless teeth that glistened under the curling mustachewhenever he opened his lips to speak, and that showed so seldom at anyother time. Not until this moment had she ever seen him smile. 

The fringe of her Mexican _rebosa_ had caught the button of hissnugly-fitting sack coat, and it needed her deft, slim fingers torelease it. Then in its frantic struggles the dolphin threatened tospring back to its native element, and Loring had to head him off andthrust him to the middle of the deck again, close to the skylight of the"saloon, " and there he bade her come and watch the vivid, swiftlychanging, iridescent hues of the beautiful creature, and she obedientlydrew near and stood bending over in mingled triumph and compassion. "_Ah, que es bonito!_" she sighed, as the frantic leapings seemed tocease and the prize lay gasping at full length, exhausted by theviolence of the long battle. Presently Loring called the steward to sendup for the Señorita's captive, and to serve it at the Señorita's tablefor breakfast, and then perhaps he might have returned to his solitarywalk, but the study of Spanish is never more fascinating than when rosylips and pearly teeth are framing the courtly phrases. Whatever thecause of her agitation the night of the meeting, whatever hispreconceived idea of her complicity in the scheme that robbed him of hisguard at Gila Bend and laid him low in the dust of the desert, Loringfound, as the result of five days observance and reflection, that hisoriginal views had given place to doubt, and doubt at last to confidencein her utter innocence. Knowing what ordeal was before him at the end ofthe voyage, he had studiously avoided her, but now avoidance was nolonger possible. For a few moments they stood there, saying little, forhe was not practiced in the speech of Spanish, and at any time his wordswere few, and then he asked her if she would not like to walk. WhenTurnbull clambered up the stairway just as the breakfast gong wasbanging, he was amazed to find the Engineer and Pancha, arm in arm, pacing swiftly up and down the deck in perfect step and apparently in asperfect accord, the girl's delicate face lighted up with a glow that wasnot all of exercise, her wonderful eyes looking frankly into Loring'sfine, thoughtful face, her free hand gesticulating eagerly as shechattered blithely, almost ceaselessly, for Loring was a flatteringlistener to men or women, old or young. It was a transfigured maidenthat met the sisters De la Cruz as they ventured from their stateroomsto the table. Even Inez, their boasted beauty, looked sallow and wanbeside her radiant cousin, and the fat duenna, their aunt, gazed inmingled astonishment and disapproval at the sight. But Pancha was theheroine of the day. Pancha's hand had caught the dolphin, and thecaptain showered his loud congratulations, the purser handed her to herseat, and would gladly have sidled into the chair of Señor Sepulvida, who had come aboard with them at Guaymas and kept his berth until theprevious evening, yet now came forth to face the gathering company atbreakfast. The skipper had placed the stout señora at his own right, with Turnbull just beyond her. To Señorita Inez he had given theleft-hand seat, with Loring on her other side, and Señorita Carmen justbeyond him. So there was the Engineer flanked by damsels said to enjoyno little wealth and social station, yet his blue eyes ever wanderedover across and further down the table where sat Pancha with a stuffyold cigar merchant between her and their party, and that scape-grace, Sepulvida, ogling on the other hand. Two, at least, of that reassemblingcompany deserved their appetites at breakfast. But Turnbull had no zestfor anything, and the women generally only feebly toyed with theirforks. The colonel had found time to seize Loring by the arm andwhisper to him on the stairs:

"By Jove, young man, you're playing a deep game! D'you expect to findout anything?"

"I have--already, " said Loring. 

"The devil you have! What?"

"She's innocent--utterly!"

And that bright morning was followed by a cloudless afternoon and asweet, still, starlit evening, and by this time all men and all womenwere on deck, and the Idaho was foaming swiftly on through the summerseas, and people went below reluctantly at night, and woke to new andbrighter life on the morrow; and Loring was up with the sun and drinkingdeep draughts of old ocean's ozone, as he paced the decks till Panchacame. And one day followed another, and Turnbull read and yawned anddozed and tried to talk to the charming señoritas, but couldn't musterenough Castilian, and Traynor chalked the decks for "horse billiards"and shuffleboard, and everybody took a hand at times, and one evening, despite the havoc moist salt air plays with catgut, Pancha's guitar andthat of the purser were brought into requisition, and Pancha was made tosing, a thing she didn't do too well as yet, and Pancha knew it withoutasking when she looked in Loring's eyes, and no power or persuasioncould make her try again--until long, long after. 

They were having now an ideal voyage, so far as wind and weather wereconcerned, but the Señoritas de la Cruz declared it the stupidest they'dever known, and the officers--_los Americanos_--the least attentive orattractive of those with whom they had ever sailed. And everybody seemedto long for the sight of the green headlands of the Golden Gate and theterraced slopes of San Francisco--all save two; Pancha, to whom theending of that voyage meant the ending of the sweetest days her life hadever known, and the beginning of a school drudgery she dreaded, andLoring, to whom the return to San Francisco meant the taking up anew ofa tangled case that had become hateful to him, to whom there was theprospect of a meeting that he would gladly avoid, to whom there wascoming an inevitable parting, the thought of which oppressed himstrangely, and he could not yet tell why. 

The marvelous green of the California bluffs spanned the horizon formiles on their starboard hand one radiant afternoon as they went belowto the captain's dinner, the last before reaching port. The sunshine hadbeen brilliant all the day, yet there came a chilly, shivering airtoward two o'clock, and the first officer shrugged his shoulders andlooked dubiously ahead, but gave no other sign. Gaily they drank theskipper's health and pledged the Idaho in her best champagne. Long theylingered over the table and laughter, jest and song and story enlivenedthe hours that came to an end at last, and Pancha stole her little handwithin Loring's arm for the last starlight walk along the now familiardecks, and lo, when they issued from the brightly-lighted saloon thestars were gone, the steamer was forging ahead through a chill mist thatgrew thicker with every moment, and as half-speed was ordered and themournful notes of the whistle groaned out throbbingly over the leadensea, she swayed uneasily over a heavy ground swell that careened herdeeper and deeper as the mist thickened to fog, and oilskins andsou'westers came out and dark figures went dripping about the decks, andLoring fetched his uniform cape from below and muffled in it Pancha'sslender form, and for awhile they tottered up and down, then abandonedthe attempt to walk, and settled in their chairs at the end of thebench, just where she had sat and clung to the white stanchion andsobbed her heart out that night in Guaymas Bay. _Ay de mi_--Pancha couldhave sobbed almost as hard, though no longer in loneliness anddesolation--this very night. 

As early as 9. 30 Señora Valdez had gone below, following her lovelynieces, and warning Pancha to come at once. It was too dark, too damp toremain there longer, but Loring begged, and the Idaho lurched and rolledsympathetically at the moment and the duenna found further argumentimpossible. She had to rush for her room, and later to confide hermandates as to Pancha to the stewardess, who came, peeped, andconsidered them ill-timed. At six bells Turnbull and a few determined, yet uncomfortable souls were consuming cognac and playing _vingt et un_in the cabin, while the lookouts were doubled on the deck and everyship's officer stood to his post. The sound of the muffled tinkle of thebell roused Pancha from the silence that had fallen on the pair. 

"I must go, " she murmured for perhaps the twentieth time, and yet shecould not. 

Once more, mournful, moaning, the deep-toned whistle poured forth itswarning on the night, and before the long blast had died away, up fromthe depths of the dense fog bank ahead arose an echo, accentuated withsharp, staccato shrieks. Then came a sudden, startling cry at the bow;then deep down in the bowels of the ship the clang of the engine gong;then, shouts, and rushings to and fro at the hidden forecastle; andLoring started to his feet only to be hurled headlong to the deck, for, with fearful shock, some mammoth monster struck and pierced and heeledto port the stanch little coaster, and then, withdrawing from thefearful rent in her quarter, came crushing and grinding down the side, sweeping away every boat that hung at the starboard davits, rippingthrough the shrouds like pack-thread, and rolling and wallowing offastern amid a pandemonium of shouts for aid, and frantic screams ofstartled women. In one minute the great steamer had vanished as suddenlyas she came, and the Idaho was settling by the bows. A signal rockettore aloft to tell the tale of desperate peril. 

"Stand by us, Santiago! Don't you see you've cut us down?" bellowed thecaptain through his trumpet. Again the steam-pipe roared and themournful whistle crooned the death song. No answering signal came tocheer their hearts with hope of rescue. The great Pacific mailer waslost in the fog full half a mile away. The crew came rushing up on deck, reporting everything under water below. There was a mad dash offear-crazed men for the boats, discipline and duty both forgotten. 

Over the first officer's prostrate form they sprang at the "falls" ofthe sternmost--the longboat, a huge, bearded seaman in the lead. Thecaptain, with fury in his eye, leaped in the way, shouting blasphemy andorders to go back, and was knocked flat with a single blow. The brawnyhand had seized the swaying tackle and three seamen were alreadyscrambling into the swinging craft when a revolver cracked; the bigleader threw up his hands with a yell of agony and toppled headlong uponthe deck. Then a lithe figure vaulted over the longboat's gunwale. Oneafter another three seamen came tumbling out abashed and overawed. Thecaptain regained his feet and senses. The boat was lowered by coolerhands until it danced in safety on the waves, and one after another thewomen were carefully passed down to the care of him whose stern, clear-headed sense and instant action had proved their sole salvation--alandsman, Loring of the Engineers. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

That was a woeful night on the fog-shrouded Pacific. In less than tenminutes from the moment of the crash the Idaho's stern was lifted high, then down she dove for her final berth, untold fathoms underneath--hersteadfast captain standing to his post till the last soul left thedoomed and deserted wreck. It was God's mercy that limited the passengerlist to a mere dozen in the first cabin and less than twenty in thesecond. The boat, with all the women, was pushed off from the side, thefirst officer taking charge. Through the fog they could dimly see theothers lowered, then manned and laden. Discipline had been restored. Water and bread and blankets had been hastily passed to the longboat. The purser had found time to dive into his safe, and to load up withsome, at least, of the valuable contents. There was even a faint cheerwhen the steamer took the final plunge. Huddled together, many of thewomen were weeping, all were pale with dread, but Loring and the ship'sofficer bade them be of good cheer. Even if they were not found by theSantiago they were but a few miles from shore. The sea, though rollingheavily, was not dangerous. They were sure of making land by morning. But there were women who could not be comforted. Their husbands orbrothers were in the two smaller boats, perhaps paddling about in thedarkness in vain search for the steamer that cut them down. For awhilethere were answering shouts across the heaving waters. Then for half anhour the boat with the second officer, crammed with male passengers andmembers of the crew, kept close alongside--too close, for some of theformer scrambled into the bigger craft and others tried to follow; soclose that its young commander could mutter to his mate: "The captain'sboat is even fuller than mine. Can't you take off half a dozen?"

But the first officer shook his head: "If the worst comes, they've gotlife preservers and can swim, " said he. "These women would be helplessexcept for what we can do for 'em. "

For a time they shouted in hopes of being heard aboard the Santiago, butonly those who have tried it know that it is a matter of merest luckwhen a steamer rounding to in a fog succeeds in finding or even cominganywhere near the spot where she was in collision not ten minutesbefore. The Santiago's captain swore stoutly that, though badly damagedand compelled to put back to San Francisco, for three mortal hours theycruised about the scene, setting off rockets, firing guns, sounding thewhistle, listening intently with lowered boats, but never heard a soundfrom the wreck, never until two days after knew the fate of the vesselthey had cut down. At last the first officer, fearful for his preciousfreight, bade his four oarsmen to pull for shore, his little pocketcompass pointing the way. At dawn they heard the signals of a steamerthrough the dripping mist, and raised their voices in prolonged shout. An hour more and they were lifted, numb and wearied, but, oh, sothankful, to the deck of a coaster creeping up from Wilmington and SantaBarbara, and were comforted with chocolate and coffee, while for long, long hours the steamer cruised up and down, to and fro, seeking fortheir companions and never desisting until again the pall of nightspread over the leaden sea. Late the following morning the fog rolledback before the waking breeze and the Broderick steamed hopefully on forthe Golden Gate, and by nightfall was moored at her accustomed dock, there to be met by the tidings that, while the second officer managed tobeach his boat in safety, the captain's overloaded craft was swamped inthe breakers off Point Pinos, and that brave old Turnbull had lost hislife, dragged under by drowning men. At Monterey the people thought thelongboat too must have overturned, and that all the women had perished. The Santiago, nearly sinking, had only just reached port. The beachabove Point Pinos was thronged with people searching in the surf for thebodies of the victims, and the captain of the Idaho was broken hearted, if not well-nigh crazed. The news of the safety of the women flew fromstreet to street, fast as the papers could speed their extras. Lovingfriends came pouring down to meet and care for the survivors on theBroderick. The owners of the Idaho hastened to congratulate and commendtheir first officer and praise his seamanship and wisdom. The women wereconveyed in carriages to the homes of friends or cared for by thecompany, and after a brief handclasp and parting word with Pancha, whosepathetic eyes haunted him for days, Mr. Loring took a cab and drovealone to headquarters. Evidently the story of the panic and its promptsuppression had not yet been told. 

And then for at least five days the papers teemed with details of thatmarine disaster, and public-spirited citizens started a subscription fora presentation to the first officer, through whose heroism anddetermination was checked what promised to be a mad scene of disorderand dismay, such as ensued when the Arctic went down and that "stern, brave mate, Gourlay, whom the sailors were wont to obey" was not thereto check the undisciplined rush to the boats. For forty-eight hours andthereafter the first officer modestly declared he had merely done hisduty, sir, and no good seaman would have done less. The public dinner tobe given in his honor, however, languished as a project on the laterarrival of survivors from Monterey, and then inquiries began to be madefor Lieutenant Loring and new stories to appear in papers that had notalready committed themselves to other versions of the affair, and thenit transpired that something had gone amiss at Department Headquarters. Lieutenant Loring, after an interview with the commanding general, hadhastened to Monterey in search of the captain and purser. The former hefound there prostrate and actually flighty, so much so that he couldgive no coherent answer to questions propounded to him. In the marinehospital, suffering from a gunshot wound, was the huge sailor who hadfelled the commander to the deck in the rush for the remaining boats, arush in which he was ringleader, and a piteous tale he told--that he hadbeen shot by a passenger whom he was trying to prevent from getting intothe boat they were holding for the women. The gallant little secondofficer had gone to his wife and children in the southern part of theState, and was not there to tell the truth. The captain was almostdelirious. The first officer in San Francisco had been tacitly posing asa marine lion, and could not well be expected to volunteer informationthat might rob him of his laurels. The survivors among the passengerswere scattered by this time, and the purser, whose testimony might be ofgreat value, had disappeared. "Must be in 'Frisco, " said the agent whohad been sent down to see that every man was furnished with clothing andmoney at the company's expense, and sent on his way measurablycomforted. "Traynor had a desperate squeak for life, " said the agent. "He was in the captain's boat when she sunk and was weighed down withhis money packages, belted about him underneath his coat, and washauled ashore more dead than alive, and some of his valuables werelost--he couldn't tell how much. "

And this was the man Mr. Loring most needed to see. There had come toDepartment Headquarters a person representing himself as the SanFrancisco agent of the Escalante brothers, presenting a written orderfor a valuable package which had been given the purser for safekeeping--had been locked by him in his safe, and which now could befound nowhere. Mr. Traynor had declared to the owners that after gettingthe women aboard the boat he had taken all the money from the safe andsuch packages as it was possible to carry, and tossed three or four toLoring as he stood balancing himself on a thwart and clinging to thefall, and that he was sure one of them was that of the Señorita Pancha, for she was at the moment clasping Loring's knees and imploring him tosit down. The boat was alternately lifting high and sinking deep as thegreat waves rolled by, and Traynor, while admitting haste andexcitement, declared that he could almost swear that Loring receivedthree packages and one of them must have been that now demanded by theEscalante's agent. Hence the visit of that somber person to headquartersand his importunate appeals to Loring, who told him the whole story wasabsurd. 

But then this agent had appealed to the general, and that officer, whosemanner the day of Loring's return to duty had been marked by oddconstraint, sent for the Engineer and required of him a statement as tothe truth or falsity of these allegations, and when Loring, startled andindignant, answered "False, of course, sir, " and demanded what furtheraccusation there was, the chief tossed aside the paper folder he wasnervously fingering, sprang up and began to pace the floor, a favoritemethod, said those who long had known him, of working off steam when hewas much excited. 

"I can't--discuss this painful matter, Mr. Loring, " said he, testily. "You'll have to see Colonel Strain, the adjutant-general. Thisdeplorable loss of Colonel Turnbull has upset everybody. "

So Loring went to Colonel Strain, a man to whom he was but slightlyknown, and then it was developed that a young lady wearing mourning, avery lovely girl, so every one described her, had called no less thanthree times to inquire if Mr. Loring were not returned. Once only hadthe general seen her, but Strain was three times her listener, and apatient one he proved, and a most assiduous friend and sympathizer forseveral days, until, as it subsequently transpired, in some way mattersreached the ears of Mrs. Strain. The colonel very pointedly told theengineer lieutenant that the lady claimed to have received lettersproving that he was still in possession of the Nevins jewels whilesojourning at Fort Yuma, had endeavored to compromise the matter by thetender of a check for two hundred dollars, which in her destitutecondition her sister had felt compelled to accept until she could havelegal advice, "and this, " said Colonel Strain, "followed now by theclaim of this Mexican agent, has created such a scandal in thegeneral's eyes that you cannot too speedily take steps to assure him ofyour innocence, which of course you should have no difficulty in doingunless--unless--" and the colonel coughed dubiously. 

For a moment Loring stood there like one in a daze. Good God! GeraldineAllyn his accuser! The girl who had wronged him so bitterly before! Thegirl whom he had sought to aid when he found her well-nigh destitute!Gradually the whole force of the situation dawned upon him. WithTurnbull dead, the captain daft and Traynor telling the strange story ofhis (Loring's) eagerness to examine the Escalante packet early on thevoyage, and now declaring that he had given it into Loring's keeping!Who in the name of Heaven was left to speak for him? Loring had come astranger to this distant station. He had chosen to be sent at once toduty in a desert land. He was personally as little known to hissuperiors here at San Francisco as though they had never met. Even asthe men began about the steamship offices and on the streets and in thehotels whither the Idaho's few passengers had told the tale, to speak ofWalter Loring as the man who really quelled the panic, if not a mutiny, and saved the lives of a score of helpless men and women, that officerstood accused before his comrades of the army of breach of trust, ofmean embezzlement, of low-down theft and trickery, and not a man couldhe name to help to prove him innocent. Blake, to be sure, was at Yuma, but what could he establish save that the stage had been attacked, Loring left alone, and when the cavalry returned there lay the Engineerapparently unconscious, the empty saddle-bag beside him. Blake had seenno robbers. Blake suspected Sancho of every villainy, but could convicthim of none. Traynor, the purser, whether he believed or disbelieved hisown story that he had passed that packet down to Loring, couldtruthfully declare that Loring had displayed most mysterious andunaccountable interest in it. One talk with Pancha, it seems, hadbanished Loring's intention of confiding his suspicion and the wholestory, in fact, to Mr. Traynor. And so there was no friend to whom hecould turn. Five days after his arrival in San Francisco Loring foundhimself facing charges of the gravest nature, for Traynor, being sentfor, told his story to the general in person, and Loring stood alone. 

CHAPTER XV. 

April had gone, and May and June was well-nigh half over. The oldsemaphore of Telegraph Hill would have worn itself out signalingsidewheel steamers had it still been in operation. The transcontinentalrailway was stretching out up the valley of the Platte toward the centerof the continent, but Wells-Fargo, and the pony express charging adollar a letter, were the only transcontinental rapid transit of theday. People still went to and from the distant East by way of Aspinwalland Panama, and the big boats of the Pacific mail were crowded, going orcoming; and one bright June day two women in mourning were escortedaboard the Sonora and shown to their little stateroom, one a decidedlypretty girl, the other a sad-faced, careworn, delicate looking widow, ten or twelve years apparently the senior. They sailed with only onefriend to see them off, an aide-de-camp of the commanding general, yetnot without much curiosity on part of the younger woman as to thecomposition of the passenger list. Even before they were beyond therocky scarp of Alcatraz, for few things are impossible to a prettywoman, she had been able to secure a copy and to say, with bated breath, to the languid invalid: "At least he's not going on this ship. It mightbe better if he were. " For Miss Geraldine Allyn had not lost faith inher power to charm. 

And one reason why the "he" referred to was not going on this ship wasthat the sisters Nevins and Allyn had "booked" their passage nearly twoweeks before, it being useless to remain longer on the Pacific coast inhopes of finding the fugitive husband, for the consul at Guaymas wasauthorized to report the death at Hermosillo, "through wounds andexposure, of the gallant but unfortunate captain, whose mind must havegiven way under his accumulation of troubles. " A seal ring that Nevinsused to wear and some letters were all he had to leave, and these hadbeen duly forwarded to the address of his wife, whose patheticinquiries for further particulars elicited nothing more reliable thanthat Nevins was dead and buried, and that was the end of him. Thequartermaster got "transportation" for them to New Orleans. A sumsufficient for their immediate needs was placed in their hands. Anothersum, which did not receive immediate acknowledgment, was also sent tothe disconsolate widow, and now they were going, and that was all. Going, too, was Loring, though not on that trip, shaking, so to speak, the dust of California from his feet, a silent but much-disgusted man. For nearly five weeks he had lived a life that would have tried theendurance of the patriarch of Holy Writ and wrecked the sunny nature ofa Tapley. Hounded day after day by the so-called agent of the Escalanteswith insolent demands for property that was never in Loring'spossession; threatened with arrest if he did not make restitution orpropose an equivalent; sent practically to Coventry by officials atheadquarters, to whom he was too proud or too sensitive to dilate uponhis wrongs or to tell more than once the straight story of hisinnocence; saved from military arrest only by the "stalwart" letterwritten by the Yuma surgeon in response to his urgent appeals; comfortedmeasurably by Blake's eloquent, but emphatically insubordinate, outburstat the expense of department headquarters; unable to bring to bear fornearly five weeks the mass of testimony as to character forthcoming fromthe superintendent and officers at West Point, and the letters ofclassmates and comrades who knew him and felt that the charges must befalse, our Engineer passed through an ordeal the like of which few menhave had to encounter. Then the unexpected happened. The captain of theIdaho slowly recovered his mind and strength, and with convalescencecame keen recollection of all that had occurred. He too made full reportto the owners of Loring's coolness and determination the night of thewreck, and was amazed to be told of the charges against that officer. 

"Who says so? Who makes such accusations?" he demanded angrily, and wasinformed that his friend and shipmate, Purser Traynor, was the person;whereat the big skipper gave a long, long whistle, looked dazed again, smote his thigh with a heavy fist, and presently said, "Just you wait alittle;" wherewith he took himself off. Traynor and the first officerhad been very "thick" for a fortnight or so, though that dinner hadnever come off. Traynor and the first officer had both been promisedexcellent berths the moment the new steamer arrived that was to take theplace of the Idaho. But the captain went cruising out beyond Sacramento, where the purser had a little nest and brood, and came back later with atale he poured into the ears of the company, the result of which wasthat Traynor was informed he would be wise to seek other employment;there would be no place for him on the new Montana; and Traynor tookfirst boat for the Columbia, and got far away from San Francisco. Nospecific charges had been laid at his door, said the owners, whenquestioned. Nothing had been proved, nothing probably would be, thatthey knew of; but the captain had sailed with Traynor several years, andhad views of his own as to that gentleman's integrity, which whencommunicated to Mr. Traynor did not seem to surprise him, and remaineduncontradicted. 

Then came the captain to department headquarters. The British sailor hasscant reverence for soldiers of his own land and less for those of anyother, no matter what the rank, and this particular son of the sea wasmore Briton than Yankee despite the fact that he had "sailed theCalifornia trade" long years of his life and had taken out his papers inthe early statehood of that wonderful land. Ever since the days ofStockton and Kearny he had fed fat the ancient grudge he bore the armyand steered as clear of soldier association as was possible for a manwhose ship was dependent in great measure on army patronage. Days beforehis unheralded coming to general headquarters the rumors of Loring'sbravery and coolness the night of the wreck had been floating about thebuilding. But the Engineer had drawn into his shell. He came and wentto and from the office assigned to him, working apparently over fieldreports and maps, and never entered another room in the building unlesssent for. It was believed that he had written urgently to the Chief ofEngineers, requesting to be relieved from further duty at San Francisco. He was neither cleared nor convicted of the allegations at his expense. There seemed no way of bringing about either result in the absence orsilence of witnesses. But, meantime, he had bitterly resented theapparent readiness of certain of the officials to look upon him withsuspicion, and had withdrawn from all except most formal and distantassociation. No wonder he desired to be relieved from further servicewith or near them. Mrs. Nevins had insisted on removing to a cheaplodging in Sacramento as soon as able to move at all, and had taken herdependent sister with her, sorely against that young woman's wish, asshe had made an impression, a decided impression upon an unmarriedaide-de-camp who was reported to be wealthy, but whose attentions fellshort of the matrimonial point, as the poverty of the sisters becamerevealed to him. There was, therefore, no longer to Loring the possibleembarrassment of meeting or seeing the girl who had so wronged him, yetthere was constant evidence of the seeds that she had sown. Some man, hefelt sure, must have kept alive the rumors to his discredit, and theextreme constraint of manner, the avoidance, shown by this verygentleman, stamped him as in all probability the person at fault. Loringwas only waiting now for proofs. 

It so happened the very day the stanch old salt came searching throughthe building in quest of his friend that the General with two aides andothers of the staff, had assembled in the office of Colonel Strain. Several of them had known and sailed with the Idaho's master and likedher captain well, despite his frequent flings at soldiers. Hisappearance at the doorway, therefore, was the signal for quite a cordialwelcome. The General himself came forward to take him by the hand andsay how sorry he was at the loss of his ship, and how he hoped soon tosee him on the decks of a bigger and better one. But the bluff captainthought as little of land generals as of lubbers of lower grade, and wasnot as grateful as he should perhaps have been, and was evidentlylooking for somebody beyond the sympathetic group, and presently saidso. 

"I've come to see Mr. Loring, by George! I haven't laid eyes on himsince the night he backed me up in restoring order and discipline on myship. That man ought to have been a sailor! Where'll I find him?" heconcluded abruptly, staring round at the circle of somewhat embarrassedfaces. 

"We heard some rumor about this, captain, " said the General. "Supposeyou come into my office and tell me the whole story?"

"Why not right here where they can all hear?" was the instant answer. "I'm told that more'n one man has been at work trying to rob him of thecredit, and as for Mr. Jennings, who was our first officer, I gave thecompany a piece of my mind the moment I heard it, and I've got atongue-lashing in store for him. 'Taint the first I've had to give him, either, and it won't be the last if he ever runs foul of me again. Theytell me, what's more, that Escalante's agent has had the impudence tocome here a dozen times threatening Mr. Loring. Next time he comes youhave him kicked out and charge it to me. That man's a thief, and so isone of the Escalantes--if not more than one. As for Loring, he's headand shoulders above any of the young fellows that have sailed with me, and when I was flattened out by the rush of that cowardly gang, he stoodup to 'em like a man. That one shot of his brought 'em up with a jerkand put an end to the trouble. "

He broke off short and glanced about him to note the effect of hiswords. It was an awkward moment. Three of the group had had their doubtsas to the possibility of Loring's being culpable, but so disturbed andpartially convinced had been the General and his chief-of-staff, soactive had been the aide-de-camp referred to in his collection anddissemination of scandal at Loring's expense that no one felt able tosay anything until the General himself had spoken. The Chief evidentlyfelt his dignity assailed, and his commanding attitude imperiled. Nofurther revelations ought to be allowed except such as should befiltered through him or his accredited staff officer. 

"Come into my den, captain, " he exclaimed, therefore. "You interest megreatly, and I want to hear all about it. "

"I'll come quick enough, " said the captain briefly, "after I've seenLoring. I want to shake hands with him, I say, before I do anythingelse. Where'll I find him?" And with most depressing disregard of theGeneral's greatness, the sailor would have turned his back on the entireparty in order to find his injured friend, but the Chief was astrategist. 

"Ah--go to Mr. Loring, captain, " said he, to a ready staff officer, "andsay to him that I desire he should come to my room a moment. " And theaide-de-camp was off like a shot, so the seaman could only wait. TheGeneral led the way into his comfortable room and signaled to one or twoto follow, and presently back came his messenger, and a moment afterhim, grave, composed, but freezingly formal, there at the door stood theEngineer. His eyes brightened up the instant he laid them on the Idaho'ssturdy commander, but etiquette demanded that he should first addressthe General. 

"You sent for me, sir?"

"I did, Mr. Loring. Our good friend, Captain Moreland, has been tellingus of your most--er--praiseworthy conduct the night of the disaster. Weall, I wish to assure you, are--er--gratified to hear of this. And nowit has occurred to me that Captain Moreland might be able to throw somelight on the very--unpleasant matter which we had to bring to yourattention a few weeks since. Surely he must know something ofthese--er--people who were your accusers. "

The General was seated at his big desk. He was flanked by theadjutant-general and backed by a brace of aides. Moreland, the mariner, was standing at the table and started forward as Loring entered asthough to grasp his hand. The General still considered it essential toobserve a certain air of formality in speaking. It was as though he hadbegun to believe Loring an injured man, and therefore he himself must bean aggrieved one, for surely the lieutenant should have spared theGeneral the mortification of being placed in the wrong. 

But to this tentative remark Mr. Loring made no reply. He stood calmlybefore the department commander, looked straight into his face, but didnot open his lips. 

"I say, " repeated the General, in louder tone, "the captain appears toknow and may be able to tell us something about the people who were youraccusers. "

"Possibly, sir, " said Loring, finding that he was expected to saysomething, but with an indifference of manner most culpable in one sofar inferior in rank. 

"I was in hopes, Mr. Loring, " said the General, evidently nettled, "that you would appreciate the evident desire of myself and myconfidential officers to see you relieved of these--er--aspersions. Forthat reason I urged Captain Moreland to make his statement public. "

And still looking straight at the department commander, whose floridface was turning purple, Loring was silent. Perhaps after a month ofaccusation, real or implied, on part of the General and the"confidential officers, " he found it difficult to account for the suddenmanifestation of desire to acquit. He was thinking, too, of atear-stained little letter that had come to him only a few daysearlier--the last from Pancha, before the child was formally entered atthe school of the good gray sisters. He was wondering if she at sixteenwere really more alone in her little world than he in the broad andliberal sphere of soldier life. Then the sight of Moreland'sweather-beaten face, perturbed and aggrieved, gave him a sense ofsympathy that through all the weeks of his virtual ostracism had beenlacking. He had other letters, too, worth far more than a dollarapiece, which was what their carriage cost him, bidding him have nofear, documents of weight were coming that would teach the authoritiesof the Pacific coast the error of their views and ways, but of these hedid not care to speak. He chose to await the coming of the documentsthemselves. The silence, however, was oppressive, and the sailor spoke. 

"If the only accusers this gentleman has are Escalantes, or associatesof the Escalantes, you'd better beg his pardon and have done with it, "said he, "and thereby put the matter in its most luckless way. "

Angrily the General turned to the aide-de-camp fidgeting on his left. 

"Do you know whether the Escalantes are the sole accusers, captain?"said he deliberately. 

"I regret to say that they are not, " was the answer. "And Mr. Loring hasshown strange reluctance, to put it mildly, to meet the--others. "

"I have answered, once and for all, every charge brought to my ears, "said Loring, turning on the speaker, with eyes that blazed, andMoreland, who had seen him cool and composed in the face of panic, marveled now to note the intensity of his emotion, for Loring was whiteand trembling, though his gaze was steady as the hand that held back theterror-stricken crew that wild night on the waters. 

"Perhaps you are unaware of the more recent developments--and the sourceof information, " said the aide uneasily. 

"I am; and I demand the right to know or to meet both without delay. Captain Moreland, " and here he turned on the wondering sailor, "can yoube here to-morrow?"

"Certainly I can, and will, " was the prompt answer. 

"That wouldn't help, " said the aide-de-camp, on whom all eyes were fixedagain. "My informant couldn't be here. "

"Very good. We'll go to your informant, then, " answered Loring. 

Another silence. It was not Loring now who seemed hesitant orreluctant. It was the aide. 

There came a knock at the door. An orderly appeared with severaltelegraphic dispatches. Colonel Strain stepped forward, took them, shutthe door in the orderly's face, handed them to the General, and resumedhis seat. Glad of a diversion, the commander glanced at thesuperscription. "Here is one for you, sir, " said he to the Engineer, whoreceived it, but did not open it. He was again facing the embarrassedaide, who finally found words. 

"Mr. Loring, my informant was here a whole month and said you refused toappear. Now--they are beyond recall, unless--it should come to trial. "

The answer came like a flash:

"Your informant, sir--and there was but one--would never appear in theevent of trial. That informant sailed three days ago on the Sonora, andyou know it. " Then, as a sudden thought struck him, he tore open hisdispatch and read, then turned again to his faltering opponent: "Solong as that informant could be confronted you kept me ignorant of anynew allegations, if there were any. Now come out with your story, and bythe next steamer I'll run it down. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

The worst of having a man of Moreland's views present on such anoccasion is that the whole thing is sure to be noised abroad with scantreference to military propriety. Moreland told the owners of the steamerline, the Chamber of Commerce, the easily-gathered audience on Rush andMontgomery streets, the usual customers at Barry & Patton's, theloungers in the lobbies of the hotels, everybody who would listen--andwho would not?--how that brave fellow Loring, who ought to have been asailor, faced down that quartette of "blue-bellied lobsters" up atheadquarters. The General was not a popular character. His principalclaim to distinction during the great war seemed to be that of beingable to criticise every other general's battles and to win none of hisown. "He never went into a fight that he didn't get licked, " declaredthe exultant Moreland, "and now he's bowled over by his youngestlieutenant. " The story of that interview went over the bay like wildfireand stirred up the fellows at the Presidio and Angel Island, while theislanders of Alcatraz came bustling to town to learn the facts asretailed at the Occidental, and to hear something more about that queer, silent fellow Loring. Among the junior subalterns in the artillery wereone or two who knew him at the Point, and they scouted the story of hishaving ever having stolen a cent's worth, or the idea of extractinganything about the matter from his lips. The latest yarn in circulationwas that after the now famous interview Loring had "laid for" CaptainPetty, the aide-de-camp referred to, a young Gothamite of good familywho had got into the regulars early in the war and out of company dutyfrom that time to this, and, having met the aide-de-camp, Loring hadthereupon calmly pulled the gentleman's aquiline nose for him. Pettycould not be found, had gone to Fort Yuma on important business for thedepartment commander, was the explanation. The General properly refusedto be interviewed by reporters of the papers and couldn't be approachedby anybody else on the subject. Only two things were positively known. Lieutenant Loring had received telegraphic notification from the Chiefof Engineers of his relief from duty in the department and hisassignment to similar work in the Department of the Platte, and it wasrumored, though it could not be confirmed, that the General had beendirected by telegraph to designate a staff officer to receipt toLieutenant Loring at once for the public property for which he wasaccountable, in order that the latter officer might take an earlysteamer for the Isthmus, as his services were urgently needed at his newstation. It was an open secret that the General considered himselfaggrieved by the action of the authorities at Washington and said so. Hehad made no charge against Lieutenant Loring. He had merely called thatgentleman's attention to the very serious allegations laid at his door, and this was true. On the other hand, people who had been permitted toknow anything about the matter, notably certain senior officers of theEngineer Corps not under the General's orders, and one or two staffdepartment officers who, unhappily for themselves, were under his ordersand subject to his semi-occasional rebuke, now openly said that not oneallegation against Loring came from a reliable or respectable source, and that it was an outrage to have held him even to inferential accounton the statement of such a cad as Escalante's agent, who hadn't beennear the office since the recovery of Captain Moreland, the insinuationsof Mr. Purser Traynor, now totally vanished, and the rumored aspersionsof a fair incognita, known only to Captain Petty, a man who had fewassociates in the "line" or outside the limited circle of the General'spersonal staff, and who was not too well liked even there. 

And, as the revulsion of feeling set in, Petty set out for Yuma. "Wherethere is so damned much smoke, " said he, as it later transpired, "theremust be some fire, " and the General had bidden him to go to Yuma, toGila Bend, to Guaymas, to the devil, if need be, and find out all thefacts. But the linesmen at Presidio and the jovial blades at Moreland'selbow were loud in their laughing statement that if Petty were lookingfor fire he could have found it here in abundance. Loring could havegiven him more than he wanted. 

Then came the order in the case of Captain Nevins, dismissing thatworthy from the service on charges of conduct unbecoming an officer anda gentleman, and awarding a year's imprisonment at such penitentiary, etc. , as the reviewing authority should direct, and by the same post theofficial order transferring Lieutenant Loring of the Engineers to dutyin the Department of the Platte, and then what did the steamship companydo but issue invitations for a dinner to be given in honor of thatdistinguished young officer, and great was the noise thereof until itwas known that the gentleman had gratefully, but firmly declined. Thenthe papers said "it was rumored" that the General had forbidden hisacceptance, despite the fact that the General had expressed publiclyhis gratification that the company had at last done something inrecognition of its indebtedness to the army--which was most adroit, andequally impersonal. And all the while Loring himself was having anythingbut an enviable time of it. A man so reticent and retiring could not butbe annoyed by the persistent calls and cross-questions of all manner ofpeople in whom he had but small personal interest. He wished to havenothing whatever to say upon the subject, denied himself to reportersand relapsed into impenetrable reserve when importuned by brotherofficers whom he but slightly knew. One or two with whom he would gladlyhave held counsel were far removed, one at least forever, from hiscircle. The stalwart old inspector, Turnbull, lay sleeping his lastsleep in the cemetery at Monterey. The veteran who served as presidentof the Nevins' court was in far Arizona, and Blake, sound of heart, ifnot of head, was under a cloud at Yuma. His forceful expressionsconcerning the imbecility of department officials led to his beingconfined very closely to company work and minor, yet exacting, dutiesat the post, all because of his abandonment of Lieutenant Loring at acritical moment, said the few defenders of the department's letter tothe post commander on that subject. "All because of his too vehementdefense of Loring, " said everybody else. 

With feverish eagerness, Loring awaited the sailing of the next steamer. Every item for which he stood accountable was then at his office, invoices and receipts made out in full. Nothing was needed but theofficer designated to relieve him. The Columbia was to leave onSaturday, and up to Thursday evening no relief had appeared. Fridaymorning the adjutant-general received a written communication, mostrespectful yet urgent in terms, requesting that the officer might bedesignated without further delay, and as no answer was received up tonoon, Loring followed it with a personal call upon the chief of staff, who said the General had the matter under advisement. 

"My luggage goes aboard the Columbia to-night, sir, and I should beaboard by ten o'clock to-morrow, " said Loring. Colonel Strain cougheddubiously. 

"It might be impracticable to relieve you from duty so soon. The Generalis in communication with the War Department upon the subject, andpossibly if--you--had had the courtesy to call upon the General or uponme, his chief-of-staff, and to explain your wishes, the thing might havebeen arranged. "

Loring flushed. He saw through the motive at a glance, and could havefound it easy to express his opinion in very few words. There are timeswhen a man is so goaded that an outburst is the only natural relief, butit is none the less fatal. There might even be method in the colonel'smanner, and Loring curbed, with long-practiced hand, both tongue andtemper. It would have been warrantable to say that the manner of boththe General and his chief-of-staff had been too repellent to to invitecalls, but he knew that, whatever the merits of the case, superiorofficers, like inferior papers, always have the last word. He might beonly inviting reprimand. Without a word, therefore, he faced about, went straight to the telegraph office down the avenue and wired toWashington. "Steamer sails noon Saturday. Not yet relieved. Whatinstructions?"

By that hour there would be no one in the office of the Chief ofEngineers at Washington, but Loring addressed it direct to the home ofthe assistant, upon whose interest in the case he had reason to rely, and then returned at once to his desk. Were he not to be there it wouldplace it in the power of a would-be oppressor to say the officerdesignated to receive the property had called during office hours andcould not find Mr. Loring. And then, with such patience as he couldcommand, Loring received the visitors who kept dropping in, among themthe boisterous Moreland, whose Bay of Biscay voice had become almost astrying to his host as to the other occupants of the building, and duringthe long afternoon awaited the action of the General upon his morning'sletter and that of the War Department upon his telegram. 

Four o'clock came at last. Office hours were over. Neither relief norreply had reached him. He heard the halls resounding to the footsteps ofofficers and clerks as they closed their doors and left the building. Bidding his assistant remain a moment he strode to the further end ofthe long passage. The General was at the moment issuing from his privateoffice, conversing with two of his staff. The adjutant-general, a bundleof papers in his hand, was hastily crossing the hall toward his ownoffice. Loring raised his hat in grave salutation to his commander, whobowed with dignified reserve in return, and moment later the Engineerwas facing the colonel at his desk. 

"Colonel Strain, " said he, "I have much to do. Will you name the hour atwhich I am to meet my relief?"

"Mr. Loring, " said the official tartly, "when we are ready to relieveyou the order will be issued--and not before. "

"Colonel Strain, " answered Loring, "I shall be at my office all evening, ready to receive that order. " And wheeling about he met the General atthe door. An open telegram was in the latter's hand, a queer look on hisflushed and angry face. Relieving his impatient clerk, Loring seatedhimself to answer a letter, and there fell from the package he drew fromhis pocket a little note, and with a sudden pang of shame and sorrow hestooped and picked it up. It was only a tiny missive, only a few sad, almost pleading, words. Did he mean to go without a word of good-by toPancha? His heart reproached him as he remembered that this had reachedhim two days before. 

He was writing a note to the Lady Superior, telling her of hisexpectation of sailing on the morrow, and asking if he might bepermitted to call to say adieu to his little friend of the shipwreck, when an orderly entered. 

"Colonel Strain's compliments and desires to see the lieutenant atonce. " It was not customary for officers to be so summarily summonedafter office hours, but Loring went. With a hand that trembled visibly, but with every effort to control his voice, the chief-of-staff heldforth a telegram and said:

"The General desires to know, sir, whether you have sent any telegram toWashington which can account for this?"

Loring took and slowly read it. Divested of address and signature itread as follows:

"The Secretary of War is informed that Lieutenant Loring has not beenrelieved as directed. Report reason by telegraph. "

Loring deliberately finished reading, and then as deliberately lookedup. 

"I have, sir. "

"Then it is the General's order, sir, " said the chief-of-staff, "thatyou go at once to your quarters in close arrest. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

There was the mischief to pay in and about department headquarters forsomething like twenty-four hours. Colonel Strain, as chief-of-staff, hada sleepless night of it. Mr. Loring, reticent as ever, had gone straightto his rooms, which were far from the office and not very far from theconvent of the good gray sisters. He had no thought of insubordinationin wiring as he did to Washington. He considered it was his paramountduty to make every effort in his power to sail by the first steamer. Letters of instruction that had reached him informed him that a new postwas to be built along the Big Horn range in Wyoming, and that the momenthe arrived a board of officers, of which he would serve as junior, wouldbe sent out to select the site. There was urgent need of his services, therefore, and no time to be lost. He felt that this sudden and summaryarrest was a wrong to him personally and professionally, but the lessonsof obedience and discipline taught in the four long years at West Pointwere fresh in his mind, and whatever should be the result of hisdetention the responsibility now lay with the department commander. Arrived at his quarters, Loring calmly wrote a dispatch to the assistantin the office of the Chief of Engineers at Washington, saying so manywords: "Placed in close arrest because of previous telegrams. Cannotsail to-morrow. " This and a note to the Lady Superior at the conventsaying he would be unable to come to say good-by to Pancha, and wouldprobably be detained, he sent by his servant, bidding the man go firstto the telegraph office and then to stop at headquarters for certainbooks, and then to deliver the note at the convent on his homeward way. Dennis was a retired dragoon who had found such employment with theofficers on duty in San Francisco for several years past, and wasendowed with the Irishman's almost pathetic sense of fealty to his"commander, " as he insisted on speaking of his employer. Master was aword he could not tolerate because of its implication of servitude. Buteven while rebelling at the term, he yielded to the fact a degree ofdevotion to Loring's interests far exceeding that usually accorded bythe body servant of tradition, and this calm, deliberate, methodical, silent young soldier was, in spite of himself and the proverb, "a heroin the eyes of his _valet de chambre_. " Dennis had packed his boxes withblinking eyes and a saddened heart. "He had wurrked, " he said, "fortwinty gintlemin, most av thim foine men, but the looten'nt was the bestav all. " Dennis had his wife and brood in a little shanty near the sandlots, and could not follow Loring to the East. He would have howled withdelight to hear the order countermanded that was to take the lieutenantaway, but when he heard at headquarters, from his fellow-countrymen, thejanitor and the guard, that such a countermand had been issued in theshape of an arrest, he swore with wrath. A good Catholic was Dennis, and many a job had been given to him and his lusty helpmate at the graysisters, and a warm friend had they in the lady superior, to whom hepresently bore the note and the tale of his hero's unjustifiabletreatment. Then went he on his way, and came in upon Loring just in timeto hear the closing words of what had been probably a brief and frigidconversation between the Engineer and the General's assiduousaide-de-camp, Captain Petty. Frigid as it sounded the captain looked hotenough as he took his leave, and collided with Dennis at the door, damned him for being there; then whirled about for a parting shot. "I'llreport your exact language to the General, sir, " said he, with anger inhis tone. 

"Try to, at least, " said Loring pointedly. 

"I didn't come here to be insulted, sir!" said Petty fiercely. 

"No, sir. You came here to insult, " was the cool reply. 

The aid went down the stairs with thundering heels and raging heart. Such contemptuous _sang froid_ on part of an officer four years hisjunior in service was something unheard of, something not to betolerated, and as Loring refused to budge from his position of calmsuperiority, the only thing left for Petty was to leave. So far fromgoing to Yuma, he had progressed only to Monterey, and there spent twoor three days poking about the resorts around the plaza in search ofgossip that was rumored to be in circulation at Loring's expense. Hefound the gossipers easily enough, but had greater difficulty inreaching their authorities. It proved disheartening work, for thefurther he went the less he learned--each tale bearer having apparentlyadded to the pile of his informant, as Petty should have had senseenough to know would be the case. But at last he "lit" on somethingtangible: The hardy giant who led the rush the night of the wreck wasnow well enough to be hobbling about town and breathing his tale of woeand wrong to all listening ears, and, the officers being gone and no onepresent to contradict, he had so frequently repeated his version of thewreck of the Idaho as to make a sinner of his memory and "credit hisown lie. " The burden of his latest song was that Loring had been to seehim at hospital and had promised him, on condition of being guaranteedagainst action or prosecution because of the shooting of a wronged andinoffensive man, that he (Loring) would pay him handsomely--would sendhim ten dollars a week, and gave him twenty-five dollars then and there. "But now, for more than a month, " said he, "not a cent had come, and heheard that Mr. Loring was trying to get away East. " The man told hisstory reluctantly and with some palpable "breaks" when he found he wasbeing questioned by an officer; but Petty posted back to 'Frisco withoutdelay, convinced that here was something with which to confront andconfound that cool, supercilious snob. Then he could take a fresh startfor Yuma and get more. One can always get something when the object ofthe story is away, and, like the seaman's story of his interview withLoring, Petty's version of the seaman's interview with him waxed as hehastened to his General, and had assumed the proportions of amagnificent scandal by the time he told it to that much ruffledbrigadier. Even Strain, had he heard the account, would have riddledit--Captain Moreland's evidence was conclusive on that point--and whileLoring, in pity and compassion, might have left money with the man forcomfort in his convalescence, it was incredible that he should havetendered payment as a bribe for silence. Strain's exaggeratedself-esteem was deeply wounded by the Engineer's evident lack ofappreciation of his greatness, and he would be glad indeed to bring himto heel, and convince him he would be wise in future to do homageinstead of slight. And what made Loring's indifference so exasperatingwas that Strain himself was forced to see that Loring was not only nofool, as he admitted, but a man of brains, courage and ability, which hewould not concede aloud. Strain, sent for at eight o'clock by thedepartment commander to listen to the aid's wrathful account of theinterview with Loring, fumed and fidgetted and strove to ask somequestions to make matters clear, but Petty was already on the defensiveand did not mean to be questioned, and the General kept interposing. "Let him tell his tale his own way, Colonel. Let him give you the wholestory, Monterey and all, " and Strain, who had hoped to spend the eveningwith his cronies at the club and whist, was compelled to sit till longafter nine and hear the details of Petty's asininity. 

Stripped of unnecessary explanation, it seems that the General andStrain had decided that their dignity and prerogative had been invadedby the summary orders from Washington, which were at once a criticism oftheir action in not relieving Loring, and a demand for an immediateexplanation as well as an implied threat that unless that report wasentirely satisfactory Loring must be allowed to proceed. They had spentan hour or more in the preparation of the telegram which finally caughtthe wires at six o'clock, presented their view of the case, representedthat if Loring left it would be under a cloud, and that he should notnow be allowed to leave, because of the fact that his having resorted toforbidden and insubordinate means to procure his release was in itself avirtual admission that he feared to stay and face the constantlyrecurring accusations. It was very adroitly and impressively worded, butstill the General and chief-of-staff felt nervous and ill at ease. Downin their hearts both realized that nothing had been proved againstLoring, and that the chances were ten to one that nothing ever could orwould be. What was more, both were beginning to realize that Loring hadbeen badly and shabbily treated. Yet this conviction only made them themore ready to listen to any story, grasp at any straw, that lent an atomof weight to the case against him. Dinner had brought no comfort toeither, and Petty's preposterous story, swallowed whole by the chiefwhile still bristling with the nervous strain of the concoction of thattelegram of explanation, had further upset his digestive powers. Theaide had been sent forthwith to notify Mr. Loring of the new story athis expense, and to demand his version thereof. Petty was at no time adiplomatic man, and at this time did not mean to be. Both in languageand manner he contrived to make his mission as offensive as he dared, for Loring had braved him so exasperatingly on every previous occasionthat, now that he had him safe in arrest, he meant to taunt--and did it, but his sneering slings broke harmless on the polished armor of theEngineer's placid disdain. The madder Petty got the cooler was Loring, and when Dennis dropped in just at the close of the interview a worsewhipped man was never seen than the aid, who rattled back to hisgeneral, thinking of what he ought to have said, his wits, like hisbrevet to the double bar, coming to him long after the war was over. 

"He treated me and the General's orders with perfect contempt, " saidPetty finally, and the General looked into the face of his senior staffofficer hopeful that Strain would seem properly impressed. But Straindid not. It was one thing for Loring to ignore him, but quite differentwhen that officer failed to stand and deliver at the demand of Petty. Strain treated him with scant respect himself when the General wasn'taround, and had been heard to say that generals who allowed theirwealthy relatives to dictate who should be their aids were foistingheavy loads upon the service. It was nearly ten o'clock; his evening wasspoiled. He was crabbed, therefore, and he spoke accordingly:

"Mr. Petty--I--mean Captain Petty. " (Strain, who didn't get one, said aMarch '67 brevet was of no earthly account, and he for one proposed toignore them). "May I ask what were your words when you--you have givenus Mr. Loring's--were communicating the General's message to him? Werethey, for example, carefully chosen? Did you observe courtesy of manner, avoiding all that could irritate, or----"

"Of course I did. You never saw a man so contemptuously, insultinglycool in your life. He just----"

But Strain held up his hand. "I should like to know just what you said. The General has told me the message you were to give. Now-w, how didyou give it?"

But that was something Colonel Strain was destined not to know for manya year, if indeed, he ever heard. There came a knock at the door. Aservant entered with a card. "The lady, sir, begs to see the General atonce, if only for five minutes. "

The General frowned as he took the card. What lady would be calling atten o'clock at night and demanding interviews when he was so muchoccupied. But his face changed as he read, then glanced up at hischief-of-staff. 

"This is remarkable, Strain. The lady superior of the gray sister'sconvent. Alone?" he asked, turning to the servant. 

"No, sir. Young lady with her, sir. "

"You'll have to excuse me a moment, gentlemen, " said he. "I'll rejoinyou here. "

Strain was about to return to the subject when the butler spoke. "Amessenger from headquarters is at the door, sir. Says he has a dispatchto deliver in person. Shall I send him up?"

It was the General's library, and Strain was wondering what was going onin the General's parlor. He knew of the lady superior. He knew the storyof little Pancha, her brave, uncomplaining conduct the night of thewreck, and of her being placed in the convent of the gray sisters. Hedecided to go to the hall door himself, and was astonished to hear thesound of sobbing as he passed the parlor. Mechanically he took andreceipted for the dispatch. Slowly, absently he retraced his steps, listening to the strange sounds, a pleading, choking, girlish voice, soothing words in the gentle, loving woman's sweet tones, the occasionalgruff monosyllables from the General himself. Strain reached the libraryagain in something like a dream, finding Petty stalking up and down, tugging at his slim mustache, and nervously expectant of furtherquestion, but none came. They were startled by the quick, hurriedfootsteps of the General, as he waddled back to join them, and burst in, red-faced, ruffled, apoplectic. 

"Strain--Petty, this thing has got to be settled somehow at once! Thatyoung woman--Ugh! damn the gout! Here, Strain--Don't you go, Petty; youwon't do--Hold on! Yes, you'll have to, by Jove! There's no time to belost. Go and say to Mr. Loring, with my compliments, I desire to see hima moment in the morning before he sails, and-d--He's--he's released fromarrest--It's all--it's all--well, not all of it, but--damnation! I can'texplain now. Go Petty--go! Tell him he's released--relieved, and Strain, you issue the order relieving him at once, and directing him to proceedwithout delay to his new station. I want to get the order out beforethose damned fellows at Washington can order it themselves. What's thatyou've got?"

"It's the order from those damned fellows at Washington, " said Strain. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Once upon a time a very level-headed old soldier was commandant ofcadets at West Point, and one day one of his assistants, an energeticyoung officer, came hastily in to say that he had just happened upon acadet duel at Fort Clinton, had captured one of the participants andplaced him under arrest, but the principals, seconds and most of thosepresent had managed to escape. The veteran listened grimly a moment andthen said:

"Were they actually fighting when you got wind of it?"

"Yes, sir, " was the earnest reply. "Anybody could have heard them. "

"Um, " said the colonel, reflectively. "Then I think you--erred ininterfering. Couldn't you have got there just a little later?"

"But the regulations prohibit fighting, sir!" said the junior, aggrieved. 

"Certainly, and your course promotes it. You see they were already atit. Five minutes more would have settled the thing one way or another, and that would have been the end of it. They would have shaken hands andbeen good friends. Now, neither of them has had enough. Each believes hecan whip the other, and those youngsters will neither be able to sleepnor study till they've fought it out. Always prevent a quarrel when youcan, but once they get going, never stop a square fight, never see orhear it--until you know it's over. "

In like manner a wiser head than that which dictated the telegraphicinstructions to the department commander that night, would have seenthat it was far better for all parties in the mix at San Francisco ifMr. Loring had been detained there long enough to have the matterinvestigated from start to finish, and so to "fix the responsibility. "It was not of vital importance that he should sail by first steamer, butthere had been friction between this particular General and theEngineers, between him and the adjutant-general, between him and thesecretary of war, between him and the division commander, thentemporarily absent, and a general who differs with so many eminent andastute authorities as these enumerated must occasionally err injudgment. Had Loring stayed and been accorded a complete investigation, the chances are that he and the General would have shaken hands andparted friends, for both had sterling qualities. But orders given incompliance with orders from superiors are sometimes given onlygrudgingly. The General had heard in that brief interview with hislate-at-night callers enough to convince him that the harshest chargeslaid at Loring's door belonged elsewhere. But there were things Loringhad been too proud to explain. There was his insubordinate--so theGeneral regarded it--appeal over his commander's head to the bureau inWashington. There was his defiance of his envoy and representative, Captain Petty. There were lots of little things that ruffled the dignityof the veteran autocrat, especially the somewhat peremptory tone of thedispatch from the War Department, and the General felt himself wrongedby his superiors. Strain, too, suffered in his own estimate, and Pettywas fuming with pent-up wrath and hate against that cool, supercilious, contemptuous upstart of an Engineer. Who in blazes was he anyhow? Whatwas his family? What his social status? demanded Petty to himself, eventhough he knew that these were matters whereof our democratic militarysystem took no thought whatever. It is the proud boast of the AmericanArmy that neither wealth nor name nor ancestry can count in the longrace for the stars. In these glad days of peace and national prosperity, the officer is speedily taught that promotion is the result of only oneof two things, patient waiting or political influence. 

And so it resulted that when Walter Loring steamed away southward on thelong run for the States, he left behind an unsettled fight, three orfour aggrieved officials--aggrieved because of him or his affairs andtheir mismanagement of both--and one inveterate enemy. He had plenty oftime to think it all over after he was fairly at sea, but none before. He and Dennis needed every moment to get his belongings aboard and hisbusiness closed. He called upon the General as directed and stood inrespectful silence while that choleric warrior paced up and down theroom and explained his position. He wished Mr. Loring to understand thatwhile he felt that the young officer had behaved with disrespect, atleast with disregard of his commanding general, the latter was toomagnanimous to stand in his way, and had therefore determined theevening previous to release him from arrest and from further duty thathe might lose no time in "joining" his new station, even went so far asto say he had found much--very much to commend in the young gentlemanand his performance of duty in Arizona, and, but for the unfortunateentanglements that had resulted, would have taken pleasure in makingpublic announcement of the fact. He could not but deprecate the conductof Mr. Loring's friends in Washington, and might find it necessary toappeal to the President for justice. Meantime, however, he desired Mr. Loring to know that no personal consideration had actuated his conduct. He had done what he believed to be his duty, and then, like the orator, the General paused for reply. 

Mr. Loring stood in civilian dress and soldier attitude, hat in hand, anattentive listener, never interposing a word or hazarding a remark. Whenthe General stopped the lieutenant remained silent and standing. TheGeneral looked perturbed, halted and glared, as much as to say, "Why thedevil don't you speak?" a thing Loring never did when he had nothing tosay. The chief found it necessary to begin anew, but broke offpresently. "You understand, do you not?"

"Yes, sir, " said Loring. 

"Then I suppose--you're very busy--have many things to do?"

"Only one, sir. "

"Well, I won't detain you. I--I wish you well, Mr. Loring, and--and--_bon voyage_!" and the General strove to smile. 

"Thank you, General. Anything else, sir?"

The General stood and could think of nothing. "I believe not, " hereplied, "unless--however, never mind, I won't detain you. "

"Good-day, sir, " said Loring, and marched quickly away to the room ofthe aide-de-camp. Petty was not there. An embarrassed lieutenant aroseand smiled vaguely. 

"Petty isn't about anywhere this morning. He was out late last night--Iexpect him every moment. "

"You needn't. He won't come. Tell him I waited until 11:30. " Then Loringshut the door and left. He had many an hour later in which to think overhis final interview with the aide. A most unwelcome duty was that secondcall to Petty. He would rather be kicked than go to Loring and say hewas released from arrest and free to go; perhaps he thought the kickforthcoming if he went. But Loring treated him with the samecontemptuous coolness as he had earlier in the night. Nor did Loringseem either elated or surprised. 

"Damn the man!" said Petty. "I'd give a month's pay to tell himsomething that would stir him!" Petty could easily have done that had heseen fit to mention that the General had received a visit from the LadySuperior with a young girl from the convent of the good Gray Sisters. But that was a mysterious affair that even the General had seen fit tosay nothing further about, even to Loring, who was most concerned. Itwas a matter that gentle and gracious woman herself never referred towhen the Engineer at ten the next morning presented his card and wasushered into her presence. She was most courteous. There was peace andloving kindness ineffable in her placid face. There was infinitesympathy in her manner when she presently met and led in to him a pallidlittle maid, who put a long slim hand in Loring's as he smiled upon herdowncast, red-rimmed eyes. Struggle as she might for composure andstrength, Pancha had evidently been sorely disturbed over somethingthrough the long watches of the night. Loring's heart reproached him ashe realized how selfishly he had been engrossed for weeks, how little hehad thought for her, of her who must be so lonely and homesick in hernew sphere. He was almost shocked now at the pallor of her face, thedroop and languor of the slender figure that was so buoyant and elasticthose bright days aboard ship just preceding the catastrophe. Whatfriends and chums they had become! How famously he was getting on withhis Spanish! What a charming teacher she was, with her lovely shiningeyes, her laughing lips, her glistening white teeth! She seemed happy asa queen then, and now--what had come over the child?

"They are going to let me write to you, Pancha, " he had told her, "and Ishall write every month, but you will write to me long letters, won'tyou?"

"_Si_, " and the dusky little head bowed lower, and Pancha waswithdrawing her hand. 

"You know I have no little sister, " he went on. 

She did. She had learned all this and much more aboard ship, andremembered every word he had told her, very much more than heremembered. She knew far more about him than did he about her, but helooked far more interested now. The good gray sister was more than good;she was very busy at something away across the room, and Loring haddrawn his little friend to the window. 

"How I wish I had known you there at--at the Gila, Pancha, " he managedto say in slow, stumbling Spanish. "Do you know we made a great mistake, Mr. Blake and I?"

She did not wish to know. Two little hands went up imploringly, the darkhead drooped lower still, the slender, girlish form was surelytrembling. What ailed the child? It was time to go, yet he lingered. Hefelt a longing to take her hands again--clasped in each other now, andhanging listless as she leaned against the window casing. He meant tobend and kiss her good-by, just as he would have kissed a youngersister, he said to himself, not as he had kissed Geraldine Allyn. Butsomehow he faltered, and that was something unusual to Walter Loring. Even at risk of being abrupt, he felt it time to go, but after themanner of weaker men, took out his watch. 

"Yes, I must go, Pancha. We won't say good-by, will we? It is untilto-morrow--_hasta la mañana_. You know we always come again toCalifornia. You'll be quite a woman, then, though. " He who was so briefand reticent with men, found himself prattling with this child, unableto break off. At last, with sudden effort, he seized both her hands inhis, where they lay limp and passive. 

"_Adios_, little one! Dear little friend!" he said, bent swiftly, andhis curling brown mustache was crushed one instant against the top ofher dusky head. Then he hurried to the lady superior and took his leave, Pancha standing silent at the window until the door had closed behindhim. 

Another day, and he was looking back along the sparkling wake of thecrowded steamer, thinking how beautiful the ocean seemed to him only afew weeks earlier. Another week and he was at the Isthmus, homewardbound, yet clinging with strange interest to the scenes of so muchtrial. Another month and he was spinning along old, familiar shores, _enroute_ for the distant field of new and stirring duty. Without a day'sdelay he was hurried on the trail of a party of officials, designated toselect the site for the new post far up in the heart of the Siouxhunting grounds. For associates he found a veteran quartermaster with akeen eye for business, and an aide-de-camp of his new generalcommanding, and recent experiences with such combined to render him morereticent than ever. Major Burleigh confided to Captain Stone that ifthat was a specimen of West Point brains and brilliancy, it onlyconfirmed his previous notions. The site for the new post was decidedupon after brief but pointed argument, and a vote of two to one, theEngineer being accorded the privilege of a minority report if he saw fitto make it. Commanding their escort was a young officer whom Loring hadknown when as cadets they had together worn the gray, and though therehad been no intimacy there was respect, and the two subalterns, Engineerand dragoon, agreed that the board might better have stayed at home andleft the selection to the Indians, but Lieutenant Dean had no vote andLoring no further responsibility. He could make his remonstrance when hegot to Omaha, which would probably be too late. On that homeward way hesaw enough of Burleigh to convince him he was a coward, for the majorcollapsed under the seat of the ambulance at the first sign of theSioux. Then there came an episode that filled Loring with suddeninterest in this new, yet undesirable acquaintance. Men get to know eachother better in a week in the Indian country than in a decade in town. They had reached the little cantonment and supply station on the dryfork of the Powder, stiff and weary with their long journey byambulance, and glad of a chance to stretch their legs and rest. The campcommander was doing his best to be hospitable. Burleigh had been showninto the major's hut, where a lot of mail was awaiting him. A bronzedsubaltern had taken charge of Mr. Aide-de-camp Stone, and another ofLoring. The latter had just emerged from a tub, dripping and refreshed, and was rubbing himself dry, when across the canvas screen he heard thevoice of the commander hailing his host. 

"Mr. Post Quartermaster, " said he, "I wish every other kind ofquartermaster but you was in----. That old rip Burleigh is utterly upsetby some letter he's got. He's limp as a wet rag, shaking like a man witha fit. Took four fingers of my best rye to bring him around. Says hemust have your best team and ambulance at once. Got to push on forFrayne. "

And indeed Burleigh's face when he came forth to start for the Plattewas a gruesome sight. "He looked, " said the unfeeling linesman, afterhe'd gone, "as though he'd seen more Indians. "

An hour later a soldier servant handed the major an envelope. "Picked itup under the table, sir. There's still something in it. "

The major glanced curiously at the superscription. 

"That's the envelope, at least, " said he, handing it to Loring, "of theletter that stampeded the old man. "

And Loring looked at it first with but scant interest. Then took andheld and studied the writing with eyes that kindled wonderfully. 

"Why, do you think you know that hand?" asked the major curiously. 

Loring handed it back, hesitated a moment, nodded, but said no word. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A pleasant welcome awaited Mr. Walter Loring, of the Engineers, when heopened his office and got settled down to work at his new station. Herewas a commanding general who knew something of his past, whose nephewwas with him at the Point, and one at least of whose aides had foundreason to respect him highly, even though they had differed as to thesite for the new post, and the Engineer had seemed to take far morekindly to the companionship of an unheard-of sub in the cavalry than hedid to the society of two men so distinguished in the department asMajor Burleigh, depot quartermaster at Gate City, and Brevet-Captain"Omaha" Stone, the aide in question. Burleigh had surprised the aide bya display of great interest in and an impatience to meet the newcomer, who had hurried out from Omaha with not a day's delay, and who overtookthem at Fort Frayne, after riding by night through the mountainousregion of the Medicine Bow, with only a single trooper as attendant andescort. Burleigh had been oddly inquisitive, thought Stone, and hadplied the taciturn Engineer with question after question about officerswhom he knew and matters he seemed to know along the Pacific slope. Mr. Loring was evidently a bit surprised, yet replied courteously, thoughvery briefly. Burleigh did all the talking the first day's drive in thebig ambulance over the rolling open prairies north of the Platte, givingStone no chance at all. He enlivened the occasion and relieved thetedium of the journey with anecdotes of the General whose command Loringhad recently left, and Strain, his chief-of-staff, and Petty--"thatdamned fool Petty, " he called him, and Burleigh had nothing good to tellof any of them, and much that was derisive, if not detrimental, of all. Loring listened with neither assent nor dissent, as a rule, though whenappealed to he said he had no opportunity to study the characteristicsas described by Burleigh, as he had spent most of his short servicethere surveying in Arizona and saw little and knew less of the officialsin San Francisco. One man of whom Burleigh spoke with regard and regretwas stanch old Turnbull, whose sad death by drowning in the surf offPinos, the quartermaster referred to several times. He seemed familiar, too, with the story of Loring's conduct the night of the collision atsea and the sinking of the Idaho, and referred to that more than once interms of commendation. They stopped for luncheon and to bait the mulesand to give the cavalry escort a brief respite, and it was after thisthat Burleigh, as though suddenly reminded of something, began--

"I don't know what made me think of it unless it was Stone's speaking ofNew Orleans a moment ago, but did you meet a long-legged fellow namedBlake in Arizona? I knew the girl that drove him out there. One wintershe was in New Orleans while her father was commanding the monitorsmoored at Algiers--Miss Torrence. Saw her afterwards in New York. Shemarried old Granger, you know. " Granger was about Burleigh's age, butBurleigh was a widower and desirous of being considered young. And Stonewondered why Loring should look disquieted if not embarrassed. 

"I met Blake, yes, " was, however, his prompt reply. 

"How's he standing it? He was a good deal cut up at first. They were tohave been married last summer. He was regularly engaged to her, andnever knew she'd thrown him over until he met Granger in St. Louis. "

Then Loring did a thing they both noted was unlike him. Ordinarily helistened courteously until the question was finished. This time he brokein:

"Blake is in his element doing cavalry duty. We had a lively chasetogether after an officer who was deserting to Mexico. "

"So you did, " said Burleigh, with interest. "I remember hearing of it. You were on his court, weren't you? Why! what was the fellow's name? Iremember having met him in New Orleans, too, when I read the order tothe court. Let's see, you were judge advocate, weren't you?"

"Yes. And his name was Nevins. "

"Ah, yes. Dismissed, I believe. What ever became of him? There was arumor that he had died. "

"So the consul at Guaymas reported, " was Loring's brief reply. 

"Well, was it never settled? Wasn't it proved in some way? I heard astory that his wife had followed him out there. She was a damned sightbetter lot than he was. I met her more than once in New Orleans. Shecame of good family, but she was stranded down there by the war. Theysay she had a younger sister who bled her to death, a girl she waseducating. I remember Nevins told me something about her. That fellowhad some good points, do you know, Loring? He behaved first rate duringthe fever epidemic; nursed more'n one fellow through. He said that thatsister was a beauty and selfish to the core, and he wished to God she'dmarry some rich man and let them alone. Didn't you--didn't I hear thatthey were out there, and that he made some dramatic scene before thecourt, and sent his wife his valuables, or something of that kind?"

Loring was slowly reddening. He more than half believed that Burleighhad heard the story set afloat by the gossips in San Francisco, and wastrying to draw him out. His tone, therefore, was cold and his answerbrief. 

"They were there, but I never saw them. Pardon me, major, your rifle isslipping, " and leaning forward the Engineer straightened up theendangered weapon and braced it with his foot. "A dreary landscapethis, " he added, glancing out at the barren stretches of rolling prairieextending to the horizon. 

"Very. All like this till you get over towards the mountains, then it'sfine. But, isn't it really believed out there that Nevins is dead? Whatbecame of his wife?"

"She went back to New Orleans, I was told. If Nevins isn't dead, he atleast hadn't been heard of up to the time I left. "

And several times again that long afternoon did Burleigh return to thecharge and speak of Nevins, and more than once during the busy days thatfollowed, but by the time they started on their return he had probablyconcluded that Loring really knew no more about him, and once or twicewhen Blake and his love affairs were mentioned Loring seemed unwillingto hear. Stone pondered over it not a little before they got to Reno onthe back track, and there it was that Burleigh had demanded to be sentright on to Frayne, despite fatigue, for something had come to him inthis mail that filled him with dismay, as the major commanding told thema dozen times over. Moreover, Mr. Omaha Stone became gradually convincedthat Loring was in partial possession of the secret of Burleigh'sstampede. Unless Stone was utterly in error, Loring had seen somewherebefore the handwriting of the superscription of the envelope Burleighhad dropped in his nerveless collapse. But Stone might as well havecross-questioned the sphinx. Loring would admit nothing. 

Yet it was of this very matter the Engineer was thinking one soft stillevening soon after his return to department headquarters. His boxes hadjust arrived. He had found a fairly comfortable room away from theturbulent section of the new and bustling town, and equally distant fromthe domicile of Stone and his particular set. Loring never gambled andtook little interest in cards. He was still "taking his rations" at thehotel, but much disliked it, and was seriously thinking of seeking boardin some private family. The barracks were too far out, and the roadsdeep in mud, or he would have lived and "messed" out there. The fewboarding houses were crowded, and with an uncongenial lot as a rule. Private families that took two or three table boarders were very few, but some one suggested his going to see the rector of the new parish, himself a recent arrival. 

The sun had gone down behind the high bluffs at the back of thestraggling frontier town. The plank sidewalks were thronged in theneighborhood of the hotel with picturesque loungers as the young officermade his way westward, and soon reached the outlying, unpaved, deep-rutted cross streets. He readily found the rector, a kindly, gentle-mannered widower he proved to be, whose sister had come to keephouse for him, and never before had either of them lived in a communityso utterly primitive, if not uncouth. It was plain to be seen that hewas a Southerner, and in the joy of a few minutes' conversation with ayoung man whose language and manners bespoke the gentleman, Mr. Lambertspeedily made known to him that his health had suffered in New Orleansand his physicians had insisted on total change of climate, and thegreat Northwest was a new, untrodden field for the sons of the cross, ofhis sect at least. He had read with admiration of the missionary workaccomplished among the savage Indians by the church of Rome, but therewere heathen rather more intractable than they, said he, with a sigh. Mr. Loring was sympathetic, but already informed on that point. What hewished to learn was, did the rector know of any family among hisparishioners at whose table he could find his daily bread for areasonable consideration. Loring, as has been seen, was a man to whomthe converse of his fellow-men, as found upon our frontier, was neitheredifying nor improving. He preferred the society of his own thoughts. The rector, the General (Colonel Newcome, it will be remembered, alwaysaccorded the head of column to the church), the adjutant-general of thenew department and one solitary subaltern of cavalry were the only menhe had met since reporting at Omaha whom he found really congenial. Butthen it must be remembered that it was the early summer, and the troopswere all afield. 

The rector brought the tips of his fingers together and bowed his grayhead, his characteristic attitude in reflection and repose. Yes, he knewof one, a woman widowed but a year ago, who was striving to keep herhome by taking boarders, and who perhaps could find room for him at hertable. Already she had given shelter to a most estimable woman, a widowlike herself, a woman of many sorrows, whom he had well known duringthe troublous days in New Orleans, a gentlewoman, he might say, whosebirth and breeding were apparent to the most casual observer, a Mrs. Fletcher, who had come to him for advice, and who, through hisrecommendation gladly given, had recently gone to a good position--alucrative position--and a home at Gate City. Loring was politelyinterested, but could the rector direct him to the house? He would callat once and make inquiries. The rector could, of course, but he wasaging, and he loved a listener. He hated to let a hearer go. Might heask if Mr. Loring was any connection of the General of that name soconspicuous in the service of the South in the defense of their belovedold Creole city before the hapless days of Butler, though he mustconcede to General Butler that his vigorous administration of municipalaffairs had cleansed and quarantined the city as they had never seen itdone before. The similarity of name had suggested the--

"None whatever that I know of, " said Loring, finding it necessary tointerpose; "and where is Mrs. Fletcher's?"

"Ah, to be sure. Mrs. Fletcher is the name of the lady who boarded thereawhile, but she has gone to Gate City. Mrs. Burton it is--a worthy soul. Perhaps, indeed I think, a breath of air will do me good. I might walkaround there with you. "

So despite the remonstrance in his sister's eyes and Loring's respectfulprotest, the rector got his hat and linked his arm in that of the youngathlete on his left, and led forth into the gloaming, prattling all theway. Soon they reached the cross street that led northward, parallelwith the bluff line at the west, and against the twilight of thenorthern sky, the scattered houses, the few straggling saplingshopefully planted along the gutter, even the silhouetted figure of along-legged dog, trotting across the road, were outlined sharp and, clear, black against a lemon horizon that shaded away imperceptibly intoa faint violet. Long years after Loring could see the picture, and how, right in the midst of it, there rose slowly into view two black dots, the heads, evidently, of two pedestrians like themselves, ascending fromthe north, with the whole wide Missouri valley at their backs, thepathway he and his genially chatting conductor were threading from thesouth, with only this gentle rise between them, perhaps fifty yardsaway. It was interesting to the Engineer to watch the gradualdevelopment of the shadows against the sky, coming slowly into view asthe fairies rise to sweet, thrilling melody, from underneath the stagein the transformation scene of the last act of the pantomime andspectacular drama beloved of our youth. Courteously inclining his ear tothe monologue at his right, he kept his keen eyes fixed upon thosecoming figures. Slowly they rose, one that of a slender, dapper man, theother that of a slender, graceful girl, and the long arms of the formeras they swung in sight were in energetic motion, in emphatic gesture. Little by little the murmur at Loring's right dulled over his senses. Little by little the slowly approaching figures sharpened and fixedthemselves upon his sight, until when the pair could not have been morethan fifty feet away, the rector looked suddenly up in alarm, as Loringhalted short. 

"My dear young friend, how thoughtless I am! Are you not well? What iswrong?"

A big wooden house, in whose windows the lights were feebly shining, stood just a few paces back of the fence, back of the gate where now thepair was standing, in low whispered talk, eager and impetuous on part ofthe man, doubtful and reluctant on part of the girl. Then the formerbecame suddenly aware that two men were standing only a short distanceaway, observing:

"Then, good-night, " he said. "You think it over;" and, without raisinghis hat, turned sharply and went striding back the way they came. 

Only one glance did Loring give that receding figure, but his eyesfollowed that of the girl, who skimmed lightly up the steps and into thehouse, banging the door behind her. 

The rector was clinging to his arm and looking into his face with muchconcern when Loring pulled himself together. 

"This is Mrs. Burton's, " said he. "Let us enter. Surely you need a glassof wine, or--water, " he added vaguely. 

"Thank you, Mr. Lambert, not--there. Let us turn about. "

CHAPTER XX. 

Within the fortnight that followed came a climax in the life of Loring, and astrologers who could have heard would have made much of such acombination of strange influences. Having told the General that it washis desire to find a quiet place in the northwestern section of the newcity, Loring had moved back to the hotel. Having told the rector hedesired to obtain table board at Mrs. Burton's, it of course resultedthat the worthy ecclesiastic should speak to her at first opportunity, and that she should speedily come in search of Mr. Loring to inquire whyhe had failed to carry out his plan, and further, to intimate that onthe strength of the rector's representations she had ordered a muchnicer set of china, and laid in a stock of provisions that just thenwere to be had at lower rates, which, except that she expected him, shecould not have thought of doing. Indeed, Mrs. Burton not only calledonce at his office, but followed it up by a visit to his lodging, whereshe shed tears in the presence of the person from whom he rented hisrooms, and, this still proving ineffectual, she came again to departmentheadquarters with the manifest object of taking the General and hisstaff into her confidence, to the equally manifest dismay of the chiefand the disgust of his adjutant-general, neither of whom could check thevolume of the good lady's words of woe. Loring found his soldierlycommander grinning whimsically when he dropped in to say good-morning. The General was that rare combination--a devout churchman and a stalwartfighter. Time and money had he devoted to the building up of this littlechurch in the wilderness, and the communion service was his gift. Morethan once had he knelt to receive the sacred elements from the tremblinghands of the worthy rector and listen to Mrs. Burton's effusive "Amen!"on his left ere she parted with the cup that was then passed to hisbearded lips. At the chancel rail all good Christians knelt in commonand meekly bowed their heads, but when Mrs. Burton came up toheadquarters with a rail of her own, the General couldn't stand it, andsaid so to worthy Lambert, who remonstrated with the widow. 

"Then the least he can do as a gentleman, after deceiving me so, is tohelp pay for them things I bought on the strength of his promise toboard with me, " was that pragmatical person's reply, and this view ofthe case the energetic lady ventilated to her six boarders, and they tothe flock. There was one boarder, a temporary sojourner only, wholistened and said naught. But that was only another of her aristocratic, stuck-up ways, said they. She was "a lovely young lady, " as all admittedon her first timid appearance, and the three women who sat at table withher were eager to take her into close fellowship and confidence, and thetwo young men, clerking in the new stores, no doubt, were as eager. Butit became apparent within twenty-four hours that she held herself above, and desired to hold herself aloof from them, which led to a dissectionof her personal charms on part of the women, and of her mental gifts onpart of the men. Mr. Lambert had commended her to the care of Mrs. Burton. Her board was paid in advance and no questions asked. She wentto church and sang softly, but in a voice so exquisitely sweet andpenetrating that it tempered the strident melodies of the devoutOmahannas, and caused many a head to turn. She spent the first few daysat the rector's, or in her room. Then came a roomer with the rumor thatshe had a follower, and for two evenings she was seen with a strangeyoung man, pacing slowly up and down the walk, but never going intotown. Within ten days after Loring settled in Omaha Mrs. Burton'sboarders were engrossed in just two topics--the young lady in thesecond-story front, and the story of the young officer who first wouldand then wouldn't be one of their number. No exception to this statementas to Mrs. Burton's boarders is made in the case of the damsel herself. 

Loring frankly told his story as to Mrs. Burton to the General. He hadmerely asked Mr. Lambert if he could tell him of a place to board. Lambert had led him to Mrs. Burton's. He found it too far out andotherwise unsuitable, and had abandoned the idea. He had never seen Mrs. Burton or authorized any one to speak to her for him. The Generallaughed and said he understood it all, was perfectly satisfied and neverthought of questioning him; and satisfied he was for several days. Thensuddenly it was announced that Loring had decided not only to return tothe hotel for table board, but was actually rooming there, and thelandlord of whom he had rented his rooms turned up with a grievance, atleast his wife did, and when a woman has a grievance, nine times out often the world gets the benefit of it. Mrs. Landlord came round to thechief quartermaster with her complaint. 

It was a lovely summer morning. Lieutenant Loring had walked down to theoffice and raised his hat to the General as that genial officer wasdriven by behind his sturdy old team, and waving his hand cordially tothe grave young gentleman who walked so erect with such measuredstride, and with never a glance into the windows of the shops or bars. Loungers had no use for Loring. He never stopped to pass the time of dayor suggest a toddy, and Loring had less use for them. Ten minutes laterthe lieutenant found the office in commotion, clerks and orderlieshastening about with grave faces, Stone and Stanton with the General inhis room; the general himself, pallid and mopping his wet forehead. 

"This is horribly sudden, " he said, as he thrust an open dispatch intoLoring's hand. It was the brief announcement that the General commandingthe department of California, the chief Loring had so recently left, haddropped dead at his desk the night before. Little as he had liked him, the Engineer was shocked and grieved. 

"It may make grave changes, " said the adjutant-general a little later. "It may send our kind and thoughtful chief to the Pacific coast and giveus--whom?"

"It will make one, at least, " said Stone impetuously. "It'll send thatgaloot Petty back to his regiment right here in Nebraska and give him ataste of service he will little like. "

"Why do you say back, Stone? Where did Petty ever serve with it exceptwhen it was in the garrison of Washington?" asked the adjutant-general. "You know him, I believe, Loring?"

"I know him--yes. "

"Think he'd pan out well in an Indian fight?"

"He might. "

"You're an optimist, Loring, " said Stone, who was ever seeking yet neversucceeding in the effort to penetrate the armor of Loring's reserve. "Ibelieve you think even Burleigh would fight at a pinch. "

"I'm sure he would!" said Loring, as he walked thoughtfully away. 

"That's the dash, dashest man I ever met, " said Stone, in terms he neverknowingly used in the hearing of his commander. "What he'd say _to_ aman I can only guess from a letter Skinny wrote from Alcantraz afterthat row they had at 'Frisco. _Of_ a man you can't get him to speak. "

"We may have to, " said the adjutant-general to himself, as he turnedback to his desk and to a packet of papers and dispatches from GateCity. 

It was a day of perturbation. Not ten minutes later the Engineer wascalled to conference with the department commander and found himcloseted with his chief of staff. 

"You were not favorably impressed with Major Burleigh, " said he, after amoment of silent study of the young officer's face. "Will you tell mewhy?"

Loring stood and colored. He had spoken no word of Burleigh, except inanswer to direct question. Stone must have seen his aversion, and hadpossibly told of it. 

"You dislike to, I see, " said the General kindly. "Let me remove yourscruples. Major Burleigh has been absent from his post without leave ata time when his services were urgently needed. His affairs are in a gooddeal of a tangle. It is believed that he has been making use ofgovernment funds. I tell you this in strict confidence. Do you know whatcaused his panic there at Reno and made him insist on being taken righton to Fort Frayne?"

Loring thought a moment, then "No, sir. "

"Mr. Loring, " said the General, "Major Burleigh has been an object ofdistrust for over a month. While he was away on this trip to Warrior Gapmatters were brought to my attention that were of a grave nature. Investigations have been made. Major Bruce at Reno says you seemedstruck by the superscription on the envelope of the letter he receivedthere that threw him into such a panic. Would you know the handwriting, do you think?"

"Yes, General. "

Silently the chief-of-staff held forth a note which Loring took andclosely examined. It read "Captain Newhall begs to assure theadjutant-general, Department of the Platte, that he meant no discourtesyin failing to register. He was unaware of the rule existing atdepartment headquarters, had come here on personal business connectedwith certain real estate in which he has an interest, is on two months'leave from his station New Orleans, Louisiana, and will register themoment the office opens in the morning unless he should be compelled toleave for St. Joe to-night. "

Loring looked up, puzzled. The handwriting was familiar; so was a formthat he had recently seen vanishing in the distance one evening a weekbefore, and something in the voice had a familiar ring, but this namewas new. 

"To explain all this, " said the adjutant-general, "there was adashing-looking fellow here for two or three days drinking a good dealdown about the depot on the flats and around the quartermasters'corrals. He said he was Captain Newhall, of the Thirty-ninth Infantry, and the general finally told me to send an aide to look him up andremind him it was his duty to call at headquarters and account for hispresence. Between that night and the next morning he disappeared, andat last accounts was hobnobbing with Burleigh at Gate City. You know ofhim, I see. "

"Possibly. "

"Then, General, " said the chief-of-staff, with prompt decision, "thequickest way to got at the root of the matter would be to send Loring atonce to Gate City. "

The General thought for a moment. 

"How soon could you go?"

"First train, sir. "

It was then too late for the single passenger express that daily wentclanking over the prairies toward Cheyenne. But that afternoon was helda long conference at department headquarters, which caused somewonderment among the officers not included, Stone especially, and therewere many eyes on Loring's grave face as he finally came forth from theGeneral's room, and without a word of explanation went straight to hisown. 

"Wonder what _he's_ been doing, " said a man from the garrison, who hadhappened in in search of news. 

Stone shrugged his shoulders, offered no explanation, but lookedvolumes. An aide-de-camp should never reveal what he knows of otherofficers' affairs--much less that he knows nothing. 

The night came on, warm and stifling almost as the day. The window ofLoring's room opened on the crude wooden gallery that ran the length ofthe hotel, and he kept it open from the bottom for such air as could beobtained. A note lay on the mantel shelf when he returned from theoffice late in the afternoon. This he had taken downstairs, inclosed it, unopened, in one of the coarse hotel envelopes, addressed and sent it bya messenger to Mrs. Burton's. At ten o'clock at night, in his shirtsleeves, he was packing a valise, when at the open window, on thegallery without, there appeared suddenly a slender, graceful, girlishform; a fair face gazed appealingly, imploringly in, and a soft voicepronounced his name. 

Starting up, he stepped quickly toward the apparition. One instant thelovely face lighted with hope, joy, triumph, then changed to suddenwrath before the shade, pulled vehemently down, shut it from sight. 

Even as she stood there, baffled, "a woman scorned" in the presence andhearing of another, who nevertheless stepped quickly forward to expressher opinion of such heartless, soulless conduct despite the interposingshade, there came a sharp, imperative rap on Loring's door, and thesummons "Wanted at headquarters at once, sir!"

And, weeping as though bereaved and forsaken, the younger woman threwherself upon the broad and sympathizing bosom of the elder. 

"There, there, poor darling! Don't cry. Wait till Mr. Lambert and theGeneral hear how he has treated you, " said Mrs. Burton, "and we'll seewhat'll happen. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

The day of perturbation had been succeeded by a night of worry atdepartment headquarters. Dispatches full of grave import were coming infrom Gate City and Cheyenne. Old John Folsom, long time a trader amongthe Sioux, and known and trusted by the whole tribe, had given warningweeks before that serious consequences would attend the effort to buildanother post along the Big Horn. Red Cloud and his hosts of warriors hadsworn to sweep it from the face of the earth and every man of itsgarrison with it. All this had been reported by the General to hissuperiors at Washington, and all this had been derided by the IndianBureau. Against the judgment, against the counsel of the departmentcommander, the work went on. A large force of laborers hired by MajorBurleigh at Gate City early in the spring had been sent to Warrior Gapunder strong escort, and the unseasoned timber and fresh-cut logs werebeing rapidly dovetailed and mortised, and long wagon trains laden withstores and supplies, purchased by Major Burleigh's agents, were pushingout across the Platte. 

"Indians, indeed!" said that experienced officer disdainfully. "They donot presume to interfere!" and long since the whisper had been going therounds that Major Burleigh's interest in the construction of that newpost, involving an expense of some hundreds of thousands of dollars, wassomething more than official. In vain John Folsom and veteran officersof the fighting force had pointed out that Indians never do interferewhen they see huge trains of provisions and supplies coming just wherethey want them. Orders were orders, and the building went on. JohnFolsom said that any day the news might come that Red Cloud and hisbraves had massacred every man and carried off every woman in the newcantonment. Wives and children were there, secure, as they believed, behind the stout hearts and far and fast-shooting new breechloaders, trustful, too, of the Indians whom they had often fed and welcomed attheir doors in the larger and less exposed garrison. 

"Two of our companies can stand off a thousand Sioux, " said one gallantofficer, who based his confident report on the fact that with fifty ofthe new breechloaders, behind a log breastwork, he had whipped a hordeof mountain braves armed only with lance and bow and old "smooth-bores"or squirrel rifles. 

"We came down through the whole tribe, " said Burleigh, with swellingbreast. "I had only a small troop of cavalry, and Red Cloud never somuch as raised a yelp. He knew who was running that outfit and didn'tcare to try conclusions. "

It all sounded very fine among the barrooms and over the poker-table atGate City, where Burleigh was a patron and an oracle, but in distantcamps along the Platte and Powder rivers, and among troopers andlinesmen nearer home there were odd glances, and nudging elbows wheneverBurleigh's boastings were repeated. Even as far as departmentheadquarters the story was being told that the mere report of "Big bandof Sioux ahead" sent in by the advance guard, a report that broughtLoring and Stone leaping nimbly out of the ambulance, rifle in hand andready for business, sent Burleigh under the seat and left him therequaking. 

"Get your men down from the Big Horn, " was John Folsom's urgent adviceto the department commander. "Get your men up there, " was the order fromWashington, and no wonder the General was troubled. Then in the midst ofit all began to come these rumors affecting Burleigh's integrity; thenthe determination to send Loring to look after this new boon companionwith whom Burleigh was consorting; then a dispatch from old ColonelStevens, "Old Pecksniff, " as the irreverent youngsters called him, thecommander at Fort Emory on the outskirts of Gate City, telling of atremendous storm that had swept the Laramie plains and the range of theMedicine Bow and Rattlesnake Hills, just after Lieutenant Dean had beensent forth with a small party of troopers to push through to Warrior Gapwith a big sum of money, ten thousand dollars in cash, for the paymentof contractors and their men at the new post, and, what was of thrillingimport, there had been a deep laid scheme to head him off, ambuscade himand get that money. Hank Birdsall and his gang, forty of the worsttoughs on the Western frontier, had "got the tip" from some one in thesecret in Gate City, and no one outside of the post commander himselfand one of Burleigh's confidential clerks, had the faintest inkling ofthe transaction. Nothing but that storm could have defeated theirpurpose. Several of the outlaws and many of their horses were drowned, and one of the gang, rescued at the last minute by the mail carrier toFrayne--rescued just in time to save his life, had gasped his confessionof the plot. Birdsall and his people were now scattering over theterritory, but "Old Pecksniff" felt that matters so serious demandedfull report to the department commander, and this full report hadreached Omaha the very night that Loring got his orders to leave. 

Hastening to the office in compliance with the imperative summons, hisheart beating heavily despite his calm of manner, his thoughts revertingto that well-known face and the appealing voice at his window despitehis utmost effort to forget them, Loring found the General with hischief-of-staff and Captain Stone busy over telegrams and dispatches. Oneof these the General handed to the Engineer. Then, as the latter read, the veteran of three wars arose from his chair, took the young soldierby the arm and led him aside, a proceding that caused Captain Stone toglance up from the telegram he was swiftly copying, and to follow withangering eyes, until suddenly aware that the adjutant-general wasobserving him, then his pen renewed its scratching. It was not good thata newcomer, a young lieutenant, should be preferred to him, and it wastoo evident that between the General and the Engineer was a bond of somekind the aid could not explain. 

"Do you understand this?" asked the General, as he pointed to the letterin Loring's hand. 

It was brief enough. It was written by a clerk in Burleigh's office to afellow-clerk in that of the chief quartermaster at Omaha, and the latterhad felt it his duty, he said, to inform his immediate superior, who inturn had laid it before the chief-of-staff. It read as follows:

"The old man's rattled as I never saw him before, and God only knowswhat's amiss. Two young lieutenants came in and thrashed him rightbefore the whole of us, called him a liar, and all that. His friendNewhall, that pulled him through the yellow fever, he says, was there atthe time drunk, and actually congratulated them, and though Burleighraved and swore and wrote no end of dispatches to be sent to Omahademanding court-martial for Lieutenant Dean, devil a one of them wasever really sent. Not only that, but Burleigh was threatened and abusedby Newhall, and had to buy him off with a roll of greenbacks--and I sawit. Who's Newhall, anyhow, and what hold has he on Burleigh? Nursing himthrough yellow fever don't go. Newhall's gone, however, either over toCheyenne or out on the Cache la Poudre. There's something rotten inDenmark, and I want to get out of this. "

Loring read it carefully through twice, the General keenly studying hisface the while. 

"I have determined to go to Gate City myself, even though time can illbe spared, Loring, " said he. "There is urgent need of my presence atLaramie. Possibly I may have to go to Frayne, and shall need you withme, but meantime this thing must be explained. Everything seems to pointto Burleigh's being in some unusual trouble. Everything indicates thatthis Captain Newhall, who was one of his chums in New Orleans, has someheavy hold on him, a gambling debt, perhaps, or knowledge of cottontransactions during the war. I cannot but feel that you know somethingof the man. Tell me, did you meet that fellow when he was here?"

Loring stood looking gravely, straight into the face of his superior. Swiftly his thoughts sped back to that soft, warm evening when he andthe rector slowly ascended the gentle grade toward Mrs. Burton'shomestead, and there was unfolded before his eyes that picture he wasdestined never to forget, the lovely tints of the clear northern sky, the broad valley of the great river, with its bounding bluffs andhillocks, hued by the dying day, the dark forms, slender and gracefulboth, coming nearer and nearer, until in startled recognition of one atleast, he halted in dumb amaze, and therefore caught but flittingglimpse of the other as it whisked jauntily away. He had his suspicions, strong and acute, yet with nothing tangible as yet on which to basethem, and if he breathed them, what would be the result? The girl whoseidentity he had promised not to betray "until sister Naomi could beheard from, " would beyond all question be called to account. To his verydoor had she come within forty-eight hours of that strange evening, which the rector's prattle had made public property, begged a minute'sinterview without giving any name, and stepping down into the plainlyfurnished little western parlor, there in the dim light of a singlekerosene burner, Walter Loring had come face to face with his oldlove--Geraldine. 

Mindful of all the harm she had done him in San Francisco, rather thanof what had passed before, he met her in stern silence. On hisgenerosity, his magnanimity she threw herself. She had deceived andwronged him in ever engaging herself to him, she said, and would havegone on to say more. "That is all past and done with, " he coldlyinterposed. "What is it now?" And then it transpired that good Mr. Lambert had been the means of securing for Naomi an excellent position, that Naomi had gone to enter on her duties and had sent for her sisterto come and live at Mrs. Burton's until she could better provide forher, that Naomi was living under an assumed name, and that she prayedthat no one might know their unhappy past. The interview was cut shortby the curiosity of some member of the household who came in ostensiblyto trim the lamp. 

"It shall be as you wish until you hear from your sister, " said Loring, bowing her out with punctilious civility and praying in secret thatthere it might end, but end it did not. Within another forty-eight hoursshe was there with another quest. The servant who announced her presencein the parlor below did so with a confidential and impertinent grin. "The same lady wants to see Lieutenant Loring, " and this time he wascolder and sterner than before. Her evident purpose was to revert to therelations that once existed, though her plea was only for news fromCalifornia. Had nothing ever been heard of the missing jewels? sheasked. Their need was so great. She had most excellent prospects of anengagement in Boston if she could only have six months instruction underSignor Calabresi, but his terms were so high and she would have to livein New York, and people kept writing her that she and Naomi really oughtto make some effort to recover the value of that property, and she hadcome, friendless as she was, to ask if he thought a suit against thesteamship company would result in their getting anything. Captain Pet--agentleman, that is, who had been most kind in San Francisco, hadpromised to do something, but now that the General was dead what couldhe do? There was no doubting the identity or intentions of thatgentleman, thought Loring as he gravely replied that they would only bedefeated in any such attempt. Then with swimming eyes she had bemoanedher past, her fatal errors, her greed for wealth and position that hadled her to stifle her own heart throbs and deceive the one true friendshe had ever known, and Loring broke short the conversation by leavingthe room. Then she came again, alone, and he refused to see her. Thenshe came with Mrs. Burton, and the house was in a titter, and he brokeup his establishment and moved back to the hotel, to the scandal of hislandlord, as has been said, who made loud complaint to the powers atheadquarters. Then she wrote that she was being followed and persecutedby a man she never knew before, the man who was with her the night Mr. Lambert said they met them in front of Mrs. Burton's, a dreadful man whosaid that he believed that she loved Lieutenant Loring and made threatsagainst him. She implored Loring's protection, and Loring saw throughthe flimsy device and returned the letter unanswered, and later lettersunopened, and then the woman seemed to take fire, and in turn shethreatened him. 

And now she had brought Mrs. Burton to witness his cruelty to her, themeek, suffering girl to whom he was pledged and plighted, who she hadfollowed to Omaha in hopes of softening his heart and winning back hiswayward love, as was the burden of her sorrowing song to that mostsympathetic of women, already burning with prejudice and fancied wrongof her own. One "woman scorned" is more than enough for many areputation. Two, in double harness, would wreck that of Saint Anthony. 

All this and more had sped through Loring's mind that night and wasuppermost in his thoughts as he stood there facing his patientcommander. The General's fine, clear-cut features clouded with anxietyas he noted the long silence and hesitation. Again he spoke, with grave, yet gentle reproof in his tone. 

"Surely, Loring, if you know of the fellow, it is our right to know. "

"I realize it, sir. But I can do better than tell a mere suspicion. Giveme authority to act and I'll land that man in jail and lay his wholestory on your desk. "

"Then go and do it!" said the chief. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Another week and all Wyoming was awake and thrilling. There had beendreadful doings on the Big Horn, and John Folsom's prophecy had cometrue. Enticing one detachment after another out from the stockade atWarrior Gap by show of scattered bands of braves, that head devil of theOgallallas, Red Cloud, had gradually surrounded three companies with tentimes their force of fighting men and slaughtered every soldier of thelot. There had been excitement at Gate City during a brief visit of theGeneral and his aid inspecting the affairs of Major Burleigh, who, confined to his bed by nervous prostration, and forbidden by his doctorto see anybody, had nevertheless sent his keys and books and bankaccount, and to the mystification of the chief, more money was found inthe big office safe at the depot quartermaster's than was necessary tocover his accountability. The General and his inspector were fairlypuzzled. They personally questioned the bank cashier and thequartermaster's clerks. They ransacked that safe and pored over thebooks, both there and at the bank. The only queer thing discovered wasthat a large sum of money, five thousand dollars or so, had beenwithdrawn from the bank in cash one day and within the week replaced. Then the General had to turn back to Cheyenne and hasten thence to theforts along the Platte, to expedite the sending of his soldiers to therelief of the beleaguered posts along the Big Horn, the tidings of themassacre reaching Gate City and plunging Fort Emory in mourning only afew hours after his departure. 

Then came still another excitement at Gate City. Major Burleigh hadsuddenly become endowed with new youth and energy. He who was declaredby his physicians to be in a critical condition, one demanding theutmost quiet, he who could not even see the department commander, and ofwhom the doctor had said it might be weeks before he was again fit forduty, had sprung from his bed, dictated certain letters, wiredimportant news to the chief quartermaster at Omaha, demanded of therailway authorities an engine and caboose to bear him over thenewly-completed mountain division to Cheyenne, had taken every cent fromhis private safe, had entered his office at an early hour, satchel andsafe key in hand, was confounded by the sight of two clerks theresmoking forbidden pipes, and turning, without a word, had fled. One ofthese was the young man who so recently had written to a confidant inOmaha, telling of Burleigh's queer doings and his own desire to get fromunderneath. 

It transpired later that Burleigh went back to the bank, presented acheck for the balance to his credit and demanded currency, but thecashier had become alarmed by the investigations made by the General andhad temporized--said he must consult the president, and asked the majorto call two hours later, whereat Burleigh had taken alarm. He waslooking ghastly, said the cashier. It was apparent to every one thatmentally, bodily, or both, the lately debonair and successful man ofthe world had "lost his grip. "

And before even the swift-running engine could have landed the fugitivein Cheyenne, the truth was known. The package purporting to contain tenthousand dollars in currency for the payment of the workmen at WarriorGap, sealed in Burleigh's office and sent at incredible risk by thehands of a young cavalry officer, with only ten troopers through theIndian lines, borne intact to the commanding officer of the new post, though its gallant guardians had run the gauntlet at the cost of theblood of more than half their number, was found when opened to holdnothing but waste paper. Then indeed was explained Burleigh'sinsistence. Then indeed was apparent why he had not pressed his chargesagainst the officer who had publicly horsewhipped him. Then indeed wasexplained why good old John Folsom had withdrawn so large a sum in cashfrom his bank and how Burleigh was enabled to replace what he himselfhad taken. Then did it begin to dawn on people where Hank Birdsall, "The Pirate of the Plains, " as he had been alliteratively described, hadgot the "straight tip" which enabled him to instantly enlist theservices of so many outlawed men in a desperate game. Gradually as thewhole scheme became evident and the truth leaked out, Gate City woke upto a pitch of pious fury against its late popular and prominent "boomer"and citizen. Gradually it dawned upon them that, in jealous hatred ofthe young soldier whom Folsom's lovely daughter seemed to favor, he hadfirst sought to undermine him, then to ruin and finally to make waywith, even while at the same time covering the tracks of his owncriminality. It was Elinor Folsom's lover, Lieutenant Dean, whohorsewhipped him for good and sufficient reasons. It was Elinor's fatherwho bribed him with a big and sorely-needed loan to prefer no chargesagainst the boy. It was Burleigh who almost immediately after thistremendous episode had secured the sending of Lieutenant Dean on amission so fraught with peril that the chances were ten to one againsthis ever getting through alive. Who could have "posted" Birdsall butBurleigh? Who could say what the amount of his shortage really was? Thekey of the big safe was gone with him, and in that safe at the time ofthe general's visit were at least fifteen thousand dollars. "OldPecksniff, " commanding officer at Fort Emory, had wired to departmentheadquarters. An expert safe-opener was ordered out from Chicago, andright in the midst of all the turmoil there suddenly appeared upon thescene a blue-eyed young man, with pale features, clear-cut and strong, alight brown mustache that shaded his mouth, and, though he wore nouniform, the rumor went round that this was Lieutenant Loring of theEngineers. Infantry and cavalry, commissaries and quartermasters, doctors and sutlers, the denizens of Gate City well knew as attachmentsof the army, but what the mischief was an Engineer? Loring put up atGate City's new hotel, simply registering as from Omaha, but that hebore credentials and was a man of mark, Gate City learned from the factthat Colonel Stevens himself had met him on arrival and wished to takehim out to the fort, and was ill-pleased when Mr. Loring explained thathis business would be best performed in town. Gate City followed theyoung man with eager eyes, confident that Engineer must be the army namefor detective. He studied the hotel register. He curiously examined allrelics of the late lamented Newhall, who disappeared before Burleigh. Hequestioned the clerks at the corral, reconnoitered the neighborhood, asked what were their means of defense, turned inside out a worn yetshapely boot that had been the captain's, bade man after man to describethat worthy, and finally walked away from the depot, having picked uplots of information and imparted none. He spent some time at Folsom'sthat evening. He drove out to the fort in the afternoon, "and what doyou think he wanted?" said Old Pecksniff, whose command had been cutdown to one company and the band, "wanted me to post a strong guard overthe quartermaster's depot, lest that damned marauding gang of Birdsall'sshould gallop in some night with Burleigh's safe key and get away withthe funds. I asked him if those were the General's orders and he saidno. I asked him if they were anybody's orders and he said no. I askedhim if it was anybody's idea but his own and he said no, and then I toldhim, by gad, I hadn't men enough to guard the public property here atthe post. The quartermaster's depot was responsible for most of thembeing away, let them take care of their own. "

Gate City Hotel was alive with loungers that night waiting for theEngineer. At half-past nine he had come from the quartermaster's corral, and after a few minutes had gone away with Mr. Folsom, who drove up inhis carriage. He was up at the old man's now, said the impatient ones, fooling away the time with the girls when he ought to be there answeringtheir questions and appeasing their curiosity. The talk turned on theprobable whereabouts of Burleigh and his "pals. " So had the mightyfallen that the lately fawning admirers now spoke of the fugitive as acriminal. He couldn't follow the Union Pacific East; everybody knewhim, and by this time officers were on the lookout for him all along theroad. He had reached Cheyenne, that was known, and had driven away fromthere up the valley of Crow Creek with two companions. Loring himselfhad ascertained this in Cheyenne, but it was the sheriff who gave outthe information. He was in hiding, declared the knowing ones, in some ofthe haunts of Birdsall's fellows east of Laramie City, a growing town ofwhose prowess at poker and keno Gate City was professionally aware andkeenly jealous. He might hide there a day or two and then get out of thecountry by way of the Sweetwater along the old stage route to Salt Lakeor skip southward and make for Denver. Northward he dare not go. Therewere the army posts along the Platte; beyond them the armed hosts ofIndians, far more to be dreaded than all the sheriffs' posses on theplains. Half-past ten came and still no Loring, and the round of drinkswere getting monotonous. Judge Pardee, a bibulous and oracular limb ofthe law, had been chosen inquisitor-general, with powers to call for allthe news that was stowed away in that secretive "knowledge-box" on theshoulders of the Engineer. Gate City had resolved and "'lowed" that aman reputed to know so much should be held up and compelled to part withat least a little. Jimmy Peters, the landlord's boy, scouting out toFolsom's, came back on the run, breathless from three-quarters of a mileof panting through that rare atmosphere, to say that he had just seen acouple of officers ride away to the fort, and old man Folsom with "theEngineer feller" were coming out the front gate. They'd be along in afew minutes. So in their eagerness some of the loungers strolled out infront and gazed westward up the long, broad, hard-beaten street onwhich, in many a spot, the bunch grass of the prairie still lingered. Itwas a lovely summer night, warm, starlit, but the baby moon had earlysunk to rest, and the darkness was intense. Yet the first men to comeforth could have sworn they saw two horsemen, dim and shadowy, go lopingacross the broad thoroughfare from north to south, at the first crossstreet. There was nothing remarkable in horsemen being abroad at thathour; horses were tethered now in front of the hotel. What _was_ strangewas that they passed within a mile of Peter's bar and didn't stop for adrink. Men who are capable of that neglect of opportunity and theattendant privilege of "setting em up" for all hands, could be nothingless than objects of suspicion. Two minutes later and somebody said, "Shut up!" a frontierism for "hush, " and all ears were turned expectant. No, there was no sound of brisk, springy footsteps on the elastic woodenwalk. Already men had noted that quick, alert, soldierly gait of the newofficer. But "shut up" was repeated when audible murmurs were made. "There's more fellows a-horseback up yonder. Who in 'ell's outto-night?" queried the citizen with the keenest ears. "Jimmy, boy, runup there and scout--I'll give you a dime. "

And Jimmy, nothing loath, was off, swift and noiseless as an arrow. Itwas time for Loring and "old man Folsom" to be getting there if theywere coming, and the boy was athrill with excitement and interest. 

Bending low, as he knew the Indians went on scout, springing along theplank walk he shot like a flitting specter up the street, stooping lowerand glaring to left and right at the first crossing, but seeing nobody. A noiseless run of a third of a mile brought him to a corner, where, looking southward by day, one could see the flagstaff and the big whitegateway, and beyond it the main office of the quartermaster's corral. Staff and gateway were invisible now, but beyond the latter gleamed twolights, each in a separate window of that office. Jimmy knew they neverworked that late. Why should the curtains be up now? Why, indeed! It wasa question that interested other prowlers beside himself, for, as hepaused for breath, close at hand he heard the stamp of a horse's hoof, followed by a muttered curse, and evident jerk of the bit and jab withthe spurs, for the tortured creature plunged and stamped in pain. 

"Keep that damned broncho quiet!" growled a voice. "You'll give thewhole thing away. "

"It's given away now, " was the surly half whisper, in reply, "else thosefellows would never be up at this hour of the night. They've mountedguard. Where'd the man go with the key?"

"Up to Folsom's back gate. Three of our fellows are shadowing him, though. He can't get away with it. He said he had to see his wife orshe'd betray the whole business. "

"All the same I don't like it. The old man always has a raft of fortpeople there. Hello, listen!"

All on a sudden there came from afar up the broad avenue the sound ofscurrying hoofs. Down through the darkness, louder and louder, spurringand thundering, came three horsemen whom the shadows at the cornerreined out eagerly to meet. There was no suspense. "Come on!" savagelygrowled a hoarse voice. "The game's up! Newhall's wife led him squareinto a trap. They've got him, key and all. "

Then away they rode, athirst and blasphemous, and away sped Jimmy withhis wondrous news, and out tumbled the loungers at Peter's bar, thejudge and the sheriff last, and those who had horses mounted andgalloped up to Folsom's and those who had not trudged enviously after, and a few minutes later there was gathered at the corral a panting andeager band of men, for thither had Mr. Loring, with his grip on thecollar and his pistol at his captive's ear, marched an ashen-faced, scowling, scurrilous man, a dashing-looking fellow at times, a ragingrascal now, cursing his wife for a foul traitress, cursing his captorfor an accomplice, saying filthy words about women in general, untilchoked by a twist of the collar. 

Into the lighted office and the presence of two armed clerks theEngineer marched his man, the first arrivals following eagerly until thedoor was shut and barred. Into the hands of a sheriff did Loringpersonally commit his prisoner. Then calling to his aid the chief clerk, he tried the key in the lock of the safe. It worked exactly. Then heturned to the civil officer of the law. 

"Guard this man well, " said he. "He has escaped twice before. It is notCaptain Newhall. He is a thief--whose name is Nevins. "

"And you hear me, young cock of the walk, " was the furious outbreak ofthe captive runagate, "you stole that key from me--to whom it was givento deliver to Colonel Stevens. It isn't the first time you stole either. You'll sweat for this night's work so sure as there's a God in heaven!"

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Gate City had found a hero and wished to worship him, but its heroproved as intractable as he was reticent. For three days after thecapture of Nevins the community was agog with rumor and excitement. Tobegin with, the captive "had the cheek of a brass monkey, " said thesheriff, and swore stoutly that he was a wronged and injured man. So farfrom being a prisoner he should be on a pinnacle, rewarded by a generousand grateful government for important services rendered. Who but he hadfollowed and found the renegade major and wrested from him fullconfession and the key of the safe, which in turn had been forciblywrested from him through the malevolent jealousy of that upstartEngineer; but never, said Nevins, would he now betray Burleigh'shiding-place or impart his confession until full reparation was made forthe wrongs and indignities heaped upon him. The sheriff was fairlydazed. 

"Who were all the fellows you had with you, " he demanded, "if theyweren't some of Hank Birdsall's crowd, come there to raid thequartermaster's department depot?" Nevins' indignation was fine to see. He denied all knowledge of the presence of any such. He demanded aninterview with Folsom. He utterly refused at first to accord one to hiswife, as Naomi Fletcher, Folsom's housekeeper was now understood to be. That woman was in league with his enemies, he swore. That woman wroteand bade him come and then had Folsom and Loring and other armed menthere to pounce upon him. Folsom came and had a few words with him, buttold him bluntly that he wouldn't believe his preposterous story, andwould have nothing to do with him until he withdrew the outrageousaccusations against both his wife and Loring. That woman's a milliontimes too good for you, said Folsom. Then Nevins concluded he must havea talk with Loring, and, on his message being conveyed that officer, the bearer was bidden to say that Mr. Loring refused to have anythingwhatever to do with him, whereat the captive ex-captain ground his teethwith rage and made the jail-yard ring with malediction. Events succeededeach other with marvelous rapidity. Folsom's visit was early the morningafter the capture, and by noon he was bowling along on a seventy-mileride to the ranch in the Laramie valley, hurried thither by the newsthat Birdsall's gang had run off many of his son's best horses and thatHal Folsom himself was missing. Loring galloped by the side of theambulance several miles, conferring with the old frontiersman all theway, then turned back to resume his work at the depot. Eagerly he wireddispatches to the General, which were forwarded from Cheyenne to thePlatte, telling of his important capture, smiling quietly as he wrote. Had he not promised to produce the mysterious Newhall himself? Admirableservice, indeed, had the young Engineer rendered. The testimony ofFolsom, Loring, Jimmy Peters and one or two wakeful citizens all provedthat there must have been a dozen of Birdsall's gang in town that night. There could be only one explanation, for a price was on the head ofevery man. They had come with "Newhall" and the key straight from somedistant lair in the Black Hills of Wyoming, the big-shouldered rangethat stretches from the Laramie near its junction with the Plattesouthward to Colorado. They were bent on a sudden rush upon the corralin the dead of night, the forcing of the gate and the office door, then, with "Newhall" to unlock the safe, they would be up and away like thewind, with money enough to keep them all in clover--and whisky--untilthe last dollar was gambled or guzzled. Loring's suspicions had provedexactly correct. Loring's precautions in having the office brightlylighted and a show of armed men about had held the would-be robbers atbay during the early hours of the night, and then his prompt action inhurling himself on the mysterious stranger who came stealthily in atFolsom's back gate, had finally and totally blocked the game. 

But, just in proportion as Loring turned out to be right, old Pecksniffturned out to be wrong, for he had refused a guard for the depot, andtherefore was it now Pecksniff's bounden duty to himself to pooh-poohthe precautions of the Engineer and belittle the danger. Not for amoment would he admit that armed desperadoes had come at Nevins' back. As for the key in his possession, with all respect to the statements ofMr. Loring, the story of the unfortunate captain was just as plausible, and that key should have been delivered to him, the commander at FortEmory, instead of being taken possession of by the Engineer. True, Nevins had been dismissed in disgrace, and in a question of veracitybetween the two men there was little doubt that Loring's would prevail. But a very peppery, fidgety, unhappy old man was Colonel Stevens formany days, prating about this independence of action of striplingofficers right under his nose. But the worst came on the day when thelittle troop of cavalry at Fort Emory was still further depleted by thedetachment of a sergeant, two corporals and eight troopers, ordered toreport with pack-mule and ten-days' rations to Lieutenant Loring, of theEngineers, and Colonel Stevens had not been consulted again. The seniorcolonel in the department, he had seen his command cut down, company bycompany, until only a bare squad, said he, remained to guard the mostimportant post in Wyoming. (Which it wasn't by any means, but he hadbeen led to think so. ) And now young whipper-snappers just out of WestPoint were running away with his men right under his nose!

But Loring's orders came to him direct from Omaha. He had need of everyprecaution. He was now going on a mission that demanded the utmostsecrecy, and the colonel could no more conceal a movement than a sievecould hold water. 

Quitting the quartermaster's depot one summer night at twelve, thelittle detachment rode silently out across the southward prairie, swunground to the east when the dim lights of town were a mile behind, tookthe trot over the hard, bounding turf, and at dawn were headingstraight for the breaks of the Laramie. Halting for rest and coffee whenthe sun was an hour high, they again pushed on until noon, when theyunsaddled in a grove of leafy cottonwoods in a little fork of theMedicine Bow, watered the weary horses and gave them a hearty feed andthemselves as hearty a dinner, and then picketing and hoppling theirsteeds, who were glad enough to roll and sprawl in the sand, all handsmanaged to get some hours of sound sleep before the sun was sinking tothe edge of the Sweetwater Range. Then came the careful grooming oftheir mounts, then a dip in the cool waters, then smoking tins ofsoldier coffee and sizzling slips of bacon. Then again the saddle andthe silent trail, with the moon looking down from the zenith on theirwarlike array. Heavily armed was every man, each, even the lieutenant, with carbine and brace of Colts, and on they rode through the still, soft night air, chatting in low tones, no man knowing but every onebelieving that the taciturn, blue-eyed young officer in the lead washeading them for a lair of the Birdsall gang. It was too far south justthen for Sioux. 

Another morn and they had crossed, during the dark hours, the broadplains of the Laramie and were winding up among the hills. Another restand, spurring from the rear, there overtook them a bronzed, weather-beaten frontiersman whom Mr. Loring greeted without show ofsurprise, and when again they moved on it was he who rode at thelieutenant's left, up, up a winding trail among the frowning heights, until just as every man was wondering when on earth they could hope fora bite, the noiseless signal halt was given, while the leadersdismounted and peered over a shoulder of bluff ahead, held briefconsultation, then down the ravine to the left rode the stranger, andback to his men came Loring, his eyes kindling. 

"There is a camp half a mile ahead where I have to make an arrest, " saidhe quietly. "Keep close at my heels. We'll have to gallop when we get inview. Draw pistol. Don't fire unless they do. They probably won't. "

And they didn't. Half a dozen startled men, gambling about a blanket;two or three sleeping off a drunk, and one hunted, haunted wretchnervously pacing up and down among the pines, were no match for the dashof a dozen blue jackets coming thundering into view. There was nothought of fight. Those who could catch their horses threw themselvesastride bareback and shot for the heart of the hills; two or threescrambled off afoot and were quickly run down, one a heavily-built, haggard, hollow-eyed man shook from head to foot as the lieutenantreined up his panting and excited horse and coolly said:

"You are my prisoner, Burleigh. "

Nor was there attempt at rescue. Mounting his four captives on theirhorses, their feet lashed to the stirrups, their hands bound, all theabandoned arms, ammunition and provisions destroyed and the camp burned, Loring led promptly away up the range toward the north until clear ofthe timber, then down the westward slope toward the Laramie valley oncemore, searching for a secure place to bivouac. Far to the north thegrand old peak loomed against the blue gray of the Wyoming skies. Off totheir left front, uplifting a shaggy crest from its surrounding hills, abold butte towered full twenty miles away, and toward that jaggedlandmark Loring saw his sergeant peering time and again, withhand-shaded eyes. 

"What do you see?" he presently asked. 

"Smoke, sir, I think. Will the lieutenant look with his glass?"

Silently Loring unslung his binocular and gazed. His eyes were keen, butuntrained. "Take it yourself, sergeant, " he said; and the veterantrooper reined out to one side and peered long and steadily, then cametrotting up to the head of the column, doubt and suppressed excitementmingling on his weather-beaten face. 

"I couldn't be sure, sir, but it looked for a minute like smoke. "

"And that means----"

"Indian signals, sir. That's Eagle Butte, only a couple of miles fromHal Folsom's ranch. "

Loring pondered. It was long since, in any force, the Sioux had venturedsouth of the Platte; but now, after their victory at Warrior Gap and thetremendous reinforcement they had received from all the turbulenttribes, what was to prevent? John Folsom himself had told him it mightbe expected any moment. John Folsom himself had gone to that very spot, consumed with anxiety about the safety of his son, but confident of thesafety of himself and those he loved when once he could reach the ranch. "No Sioux, " said he, "would raise hand to harm me. "

But Loring's men and horses both were sorely wearied now, and at sundownthe little command reached a sheltered nook where grass, wood, and waterwere abundant. Here restfully, yet anxiously they bivouacked until threein the morning, and then once more, refreshed but alert and cautious, watchful of their prisoners and watchful of the signs ahead, on theysped for Folsom's ranch. The dawn broke beautifully clear. The trail leddown into the romantic valley of the Laramie at the bend where it beginsits rush through the range. Then, turning westward as they reached thefoot of a steep and commanding height, Loring signaled to his sergeantand the troopers spurred up alongside. There before them lay the broadand beautiful valley just lighting up with the rosy hues of the gladyoung day. There to the northward, black-bearded with its growth ofpine, the rays of the rising sun just glinting on the topmost crags, towered Eagle Butte, a plume of smoke-puffs, even at the momentbeginning to soar slowly aloft. There, not a mile away straight aheadwas the steep ridge that, hiding Folsom's from view, stretched down fromthe northward foothills to the very bank of the lapping Laramie. Theresouth of the stream, the gradual slope of the black range, studded hereand there with bowlders that seemed to have rolled down from theprecipitous cliffs under which they were now moving, two seasoned olddragoons three hundred yards out to the front, covering the cautiousadvance. All the broad sweep of rolling landscape far to the west justlighting up in the slant of the summer sunshine. Not a living thing insight save their own little band, yet beyond that ridge, only two milesaway, lay the ranch. All seemingly peaceful and secure, yet, over thatjagged watch tower to the north the war signals of the Sioux wereflaunting, and every hand seemed to seek the small of the gun stock. Even two of the prisoners plead for "a show in the fight, " if there wasto be one, and not five minutes later it came. Borne on the still, breathless air there rose throbbing from the west the spiteful crack, crack of rifles, the distant clamor of taunting jeer and yell. Back fromthe front came one of the troopers at mad gallop, his eyes poppingalmost from his head. "My God! lieutenant, Folsom's ranch is afire andthe valley's thick with Sioux!"

Even then, when every carbine seemed to leap from its socket, menremembered the groan of despair that rose from Burleigh's lips. 

"Look after the prisoners, corporal. Sergeant Carey, you and the firstsix come with me!" cried Loring. A gallop of less than a minute broughtthem almost abreast of the ridge. Black and billowing a cloud of smokewas rising, lashed from beneath by angry tongues of red flame. 

"It isn't the house, thank God!" cried the sergeant. "It's thehaystacks. But--look at the Indians!"

Look, well they might! All about the corrals they were darting. All of asudden there blazed from the ridge line across the stream the fire of adozen rifles. All around them the spiteful bullets bit the turf. Onehorse madly reared and plunged, his rider cursing heartily. Wildly themore excitable troopers returned an aimless shot from the saddle, whileothers gazed eagerly to the officer for orders. It was his first meetingwith the Sioux. It had been his hope to gain that threatened ranch bydawn and join its garrison, but where was that hope now? Down along thebanks of the Laramie, lashing their bounding ponies, brandishing theirweapons and yelling like mad, a band of Sioux, full forty strong, camecharging at them, splashing through the shallows and scattering outacross their front in the well-known battle tactics. Not an instant wasthere to be lost!

"Jump for those rocks, men!" rang Loring's order. "Cut loose yourprisoners, corporal. They must fight for their lives. "

But oh, what chance had so few against so many! Springing from saddle, turning loose their startled, snorting horses, that go tearing away downthe valley, the old hands have jumped for the rocks, and kneeling andtaking deliberate aim, opened fire on the foremost of the foe. A gaudywarrior goes down in the flood, and a yell goes up to heaven. Anothergood shot slays a feather-decked pony and sends his rider sprawling, andwisely the others veer away to right and left and scurry to more distantrange. But up the slopes to the south still others dart. From threesides now the Indian bullets are hissing in. In less than four minutesof sharp, stinging fight, gallant Sergeant Carey is stretched on theturf, with a shattered elbow, Corporal Burke and two troopers are shotdead, Loring, with white, set face and a scorching seam along the leftcheek, seizes a dropped carbine and thrusts it into Burleigh's shakinghands. "Up with you, man!" he cries. "It's your scalp you're fightingfor. Here, take a drink of this, " and his filled canteen is glued toBurleigh's ashen lips. A long pull, a gasp, and hardly knowing what hedoes, the recreant officer kneels at the nearmost rock, aims at apainted savage leaping to the aid of a fallen brother, and the chanceshot, for a marvel, finds its mark, and with a howl the warrior dropsupon the bank. 

"Well done, Burleigh!" shouts Loring. "Fire again!"

Hope, or whiskey, or lingering spark of manhood has fired the major'seye and nerved his hand. With something like a sob, one of Birdsall'scaptured crew rolls over to where the young commander is coolly loadingand firing--and despite their heavy loss the stout defense has had itseffect, and the yelling braves are keeping at wider range. 

"I'm done for, lieutenant, " he moans. "For God's sake lie flat behindme, " and he feebly points to the slope behind their left rear, wherehalf a dozen Sioux, dismounted, are skipping to the shelter of therocks. Another minute and their bullets are hissing at the backs of thebesieged. Another minute and Burleigh topples over on the sward, thelife blood pouring from his side, and Loring sees that half his fightingforce is gone, even as everything begins to swim before his eyes, andthe hand that strives to sweep away the blur before his sight, leaveshis pallid face smeared with blood. There is a sound of coming thunderin his ears, the blare of distant trumpet, the warning yell of waryIndians, the rousing cheer of charging horse, and the earth seemsturning round and rolling up to meet him as he droops, fainting at hispost, the battle won. 

Well and gallantly done, was the universal verdict of the frontier onWalter Loring's maiden fight. Brave, cool and resolute in face ofdesperate peril he had proved, and many a sympathizing soldier hoveredabout the hospital tent, where day after day he lay in the delirium offever that followed his wounds. Yet will it be believed that, when atlast convalescence came and the doctors were compelled to raise theblockade, the news was broken to him that so soon as he should bedeclared strong enough there was still another ordeal ahead. The gallantGeneral he had served so well had indeed been ordered elsewhere, as wasprophesied at Omaha. "A new king came who knew not Joseph. " The seniorcolonel was assigned to temporary command of the department, and he, oldPecksniff, listened to the tales of Nevins, and of that new arrival fromCalifornia, Petty, reinforced by Heaven alone knows what allegationsfrom the lambs of Lambert's flock. 

"They found some damned trumpery jewelry in a flat tin case in a trunkyou left with your traps at Omaha, " was the indignant outburst ofLieutenant Dean, who had led the rush of the cavalry to the rescue ofFolsom's ranch and Loring's exhausted party, "and some idiot haspreferred charges on the strength of them. "

CHAPTER XXIV. 

That Loring court was the talk of the West for many a month. Long beforeits meeting the wrathful division commander had sent Colonel Stevensback to the obscurity of Fort Emory, welcomed the new brigadier and badehim, if a possible thing, quash the proceedings, but now it was Loringwho was obdurate. "This matter has been a scandal for months, " said he. "It must be settled now once and for all. "

But, oh, what complications had not been brought about by Pecksniff'sspell of brief authority! Never before intrusted with a higher commandthan that of a regiment, to the head of which he had risen by reason oflong years of unimpaired bodily health and skillful avoidance of alldanger, the old colonel had lost no time in moving, bag and baggage, toOmaha, in having Nevins transported thither, in opening wide his ears tohis story of the heinous wrongs inflicted on him by that Arizona court, through the malignity of its judge advocate, of that judge advocate'sheartless treachery to two helpless women, one of whom was Nevins' wife, the other the officer's own deserted and broken-hearted betrothed. Thencame Petty, ordered to join his company in the field and eager as everto seek some loophole of escape. Reporting to pay his homage to thetemporary commander at headquarters he soon got an inkling of what wasgoing on, and all at once there flashed upon him the magnificence of hisopportunity. Here he could at one and the same time feed fat his ancientgrudge against Loring and make himself indispensable to the agingcommander of the department--perhaps even secure another staff billet, certainly, at least, succeed in being kept there on duty and away fromthe perils of the field until after the court, and meantime, what wouldfriends be worth if they could not move the powers at Washington. 

Day after day he was closeted with old Stevens, adding fuel to theflame of that ingenuous veteran's suspicions, but it is doubtful if evenPetty dreamed of the depth of Nevins' scoundrelism. Burleigh, whom theex-captain had "bled" and blackmailed, had passed beyond the bar ofhuman arraignment, "dying like a gentleman" even while captive in thehands of the authorities; and so did Nevins impress his uncontradictedtale of loyal service to the State on the old weakling in command, thatStevens had declared that there was no evidence on which to hold him, had ordered his release from custody on parole, unless the civilauthorities desired to prosecute him for "personating an officer, " andhad written to the division commander, praising Nevins' conduct, andurging that the sentence of imprisonment be set aside. 

And then, he never could tell just who brought this about--whether itwas Mrs. Burton or Miss Allyn with their tears and tribulations; whetherit was Nevins, with his bold accusations, or Petty, with his insidioustales, but between them all the old colonel was induced to send hisadjutant and acting aid to examine certain baggage of Loring's stored atthe hotel. Never having given up his room when hurrying off to GateCity; expecting to be back within a week and merely to pay room rentwhen absent, as was the arrangement of the day, Loring had left histrunks and desks securely locked. Two officers and the protesting hotelclerk were present at the opening. The locksmith, even, seemed to hatehis job; the adjutant had never a meaner one, but Petty was eager. Freshfrom an interview with Geraldine, he was the directing spirit. It washis hand that extracted from deep down under the packed clothing in thetrunk, a small tin box, wrapped in a silk handkerchief. Within the box, when opened, were certain letters in a woman's hand--GeraldineAllyn's--letters written to Loring in the days of their briefengagement, letters long since returned to her under his hand and seal, and with them, in closely-folded wraps of tissue paper, inclosed instout envelope, a valuable solitaire and as valuable a ring. Theregimental adjutant it was who opened the box and who made thesediscoveries. Half an hour later they were identified by Nevins, in thepresence of old Pecksniff, as the diamonds intrusted to Loring's care inArizona, and Nevins professed to be disappointed because the watch, too, was not found with them. 

Not until late July did Loring learn of the action taken in his enforcedabsence, and of the resulting developments. Not a word would hevouchsafe in explanation, when old Pecksniff, wilting under thecriticisms of his superiors, sent his adjutant to "invite remarks. " "Thecourt has been ordered, " said Loring, with coolness described ascontemptuous, "I'll make my remarks there. " But long before that courtcould meet, the colonel, as has been said, went back to his post. Thenew commander arrived, and ordered Nevins to an Iowa prison to serve outthe year awarded him; sent Captain Petty summarily to Laramie, and badeMrs. Burton go about her business when that lachrymose person came tourge that he should do something "to make Lieutenant Loring settle. "She had lost her lovely boarder, too, for no sooner had "Mrs. Fletcher"heard of the new accusations against Loring than she appeared at Omaha, and whisked her sister away, no one at Omaha knew where, but indignantold John Folsom could perhaps have told. He cut Pecksniff dead when thatofficer returned to Emory, and refused to go near the fort. He threwopen his doors and his heart to Loring when the convalescing Engineerwas brought in from the ranch. The new General actually came, ostensiblyto inspect the post, but spent twelve hours at Folsom's by Loring's sideto the one devoted to Stevens, and everybody felt that there was a stormbrewing that would break when finally the witnesses for the defensearrived and the Loring court could meet. 

But who would have dreamed there could be such dramatic scene before amilitary tribunal?

It came with the third day of the trial. The court had been carefullyselected by old Pecksniff, whose adjutant had obediently signed thecharges drawn up under the chief's directions. There were only nineofficers in the array--"no others being available without manifestinjury to the service"--read the formula of the day. Five were officersof Stevens' regiment, one a cavalry major, the others of the pay, commissary and quartermaster's departments. None had known Loring. Everybody expected him to object to some at least, but he objected tonone. The judge advocate was a vigilant official who made the most ofhis opportunity, but his witnesses for the prosecution were, with oneexception, weak; the exception was Nevins. He swore stoutly that he hadgiven the valuables in Arizona to Loring, and from that day had neverseen them until they were found secreted in Loring's trunk, and, to theamaze of the court, Loring declined to cross-examine. Petty was afailure. He wanted to swear to a thousand things that other people hadtold him, for of himself he knew nothing, and though the defense neverinterposed, the court did. It was all hearsay, and he was finallyexcused. Mrs. Burton appeared, but like Mrs. Cluppins of blessedmemory, had more to say of her domestic and personal affairs than theallegations against the accused. Miss Allyn, said the judge advocate, inembarrassment, was to have appeared on the afternoon of the second day, but did not, nor could he find her. She was a most important witness, sohe had been assured by--various persons, but at the last moment she hadapparently deserted the cause of the prosecution. A civil court wouldhave had power to drag an unwilling witness before it and compel his orher testimony; a military court has neither, so long as the desiredperson is not in the military service, which Miss Allyn and some sixtymillion others at that time could not be said to be. A sensation was"sprung" on the court at this juncture by the defense. It magnanimouslyinformed the court that John Folsom, of Gate City, knew where thatwitness was in hiding, and that she could be reached through him, whereupon the judge advocate seemed to lose his eagerness. 

Something was wrong with the prosecution anyway. It had begun withtruculent confidence. It was unnerved by the serene composure of theaccused, and his refusal to object to anything, to cross-examine, toavail himself of any one of the privileges accorded the defense. Thiscould have only one interpretation, and Nevins, twitching with nervousdread, was worrying the judge advocate with perpetual questions as tothe witnesses for the defense. When were they to be produced? Who werethey? And the judge advocate did not know. Very unfairly had he beentreated, said he, for the list of witnesses for the defense not only hadnot been furnished him, but he had never been "consulted. " Two or three"stuck-up" Engineers had come out from St. Louis and Detroit, and Loringand they had been actually hobnobbing with the department commander. Butthe mere fact that the meeting of the court was delayed until the end ofSeptember proved that they must be coming from the Pacific coast, atwhich announcement Petty looked perturbed and Nevins twitched from headto foot. He didn't suppose, he said, the United States would stand theexpense of fetching witnesses way from California, transportation and_per diem_ would cost more than the whole business was worth. --and thejudge advocate was wishing himself well out of it when, on a sunnyFriday morning, the third day of the court, the president rapped fororder and the big roomful of spectators was hushed to respectfulsilence. The defense had made its first request, that the principalwitness for the prosecution, Nevins, should be present, and there hesat, nervous and fidgety, as Loring was serene. 

In halting and embarrassed fashion, very unlike the fluent ease withwhich he opened the case, the judge advocate announced that, owing tothe impossibility of compelling the testimony of witnesses on whom hehad relied, he was obliged to announce that the prosecution would hererest. The defense, of course, he said, vaguely, would wish to be heard, though he had not been honored with any conference or even a list of thewitnesses. Then he looked inquiringly at Loring, and every neck in thethronged apartment, the biggest room at headquarters, was "craned" asLoring quietly handed him a slip of paper. 

The judge advocate read, looked puzzled, glanced up, and cleared histhroat. 

"You mean you want these summoned?"

"No, they're here, in my office. "

The judge advocate turned to the orderly of the court, a soldierstanding in full dress uniform at the door. The hallway, even, wasblocked with lookers-on. The windows to the south were occupied bycurious citizens, gazing in from the wooden gallery. Those to the north, thrown wide open to let in the air, were clear, and looked out over aconfused muddle of shingled roofs and stove-pipe chimneys. Hardly awhisper passed from lip to lip as the orderly bustled away. Members ofthe court fidgeted with their sash tassels, or made pretense of writing. Nevins, the sheriff's officer, in close attendance, sat staring at thedoorway, his face ashen, and beginning to bead with sweat. Presently thepeople in the hall gave way right and left, and all eyes save those ofLoring were intent upon the entrance. He sat coolly looking at the manwhom six months before he had convicted in Arizona. There was a stir inthe courtroom. Half the people rose to their feet and stared, for slowlyentering upon the arm of a tall, slim, long legged lieutenant ofinfantry, a stranger to every man in the court, came a slender, shrinking little maid, whose heavy eyelashes swept her cheeks, whosedark, shapely head hung bashfully. Behind them, in the garb of somereligious order, unknown to all save one or two in the crowded room, came a gentle-faced woman, leaning on the arm of a field officer of theEngineers, at sight of whom the president sprang from his chair, intending to bow, but the silence was suddenly broken by the quick, stern order, "Look out for your prisoner!" followed by a rush, acrashing of overturned chairs, as court and spectators, too, started totheir feet--a general scurry to the northward windows, shouts of "Halt!""Head him off!" "Stop him!" in the midst of which a light, supple formwas seen to poise one instant on the sill, then go leaping into space. "He's killed!" "He's not!" "He's up again!" "He's off!" were the cries, and with drawn revolver the deputy sheriff fought his way through thethrong at the door and with a dozen men at his heels, darted down thehallway in vain pursuit of Nevins, now out of sight among the shantieshalf a block away. 

Of all that followed before the court when at last it came to order, there is little need to tell. The judge advocate would have been glad todrop the case then and there, but now the defense had the floor and keptit, though not a word of evidence was needed. The first witness swornwas Lieutenant Blake, who told of the trick by which he and his men, Loring's guards, had been lured from the camp at Sancho's ranch, and oftheir finding Loring senseless, bleeding and robbed on their return. Thenext was little Pancha, and Loring sat with his hand shading his blueeyes as the pallid maid, with piteously quivering lips at times, withbrave effort to force back her tears, in English only a little betterthan that in which she had poured out her fears to Blake that eventfulnight at Gila Bend--sometimes, indeed, having to speak in Spanish withthe gray sister sworn as her interpreter--told the plaintive story ofher knowledge of and connection with Sancho's wicked band. Her dearfather and her stepmother were ruled by Sancho. She had seen Nevinsthere often, "him who had fled through the window. " She gathered enoughfrom what she heard about the ranch to realize that they were planningto rob the officer, "this officer, " before he could get away with thediamonds. Nevins had ridden in with six men, bad men, that very night, and she heard him planning with Sancho and her father, and she had triedto warn the officers, and "this gentleman" (Blake this time) had come, and before she could tell him she was followed and discovered. But thenher stepmother had later whispered awful things to her--how they weregoing to rob the stage and kill the passengers, and bade her take herguitar and try to call the officer again, and tell him to take hissoldiers and go to the rescue, and this she had done eagerly, and thenwhen they were away her mother seized her and drew her into the room andshut her there, but she heard horsemen rush into the camp, and a minutelater Nevins, jeering and laughing in the bar, and that very night theytook her away--she and her father and the stepmother, and Nevins waswith them. They went by Tucson to Hermosillo and to Guaymas, and hermother told her she must never breathe what she knew--it would ruin herfather, whom she loved, yes, dearly, and whom she would not believe hadanything to do with it. And at Hermosillo Nevins had the watch, thediamond ring, the diamond stud, these very ones, she was sure, as thevaluable "exhibits" were displayed. But at San Francisco when the ladysuperior told her of the accusations against "this gentleman" (even nowher eyes would not look into Loring's) and of all his trouble, sheforgot her father's peril, forgot everything but that Lieutenant Loring, who had been so good and kind and brave, was wrongfully accused, andshe told all to the lady superior and went with her and repeated it tothe General, the General who had died. And when at last she finished hertrembling, tearful story, Loring rose before them all, went over andtook her hand and bowed low over it, as though he would have kissed it, and said, "Thank you, señorita. " And the judge advocate declined tocross-examine. What was the use? But the defense insisted on otherwitnesses--a local locksmith who had sold Nevins keys that would openany trunk, a hotel porter who swore that the blinds to Loring's room hadbeen forcibly opened from without, a bell boy who had seen Nevins on thegallery at that window three nights before the search of the luggage wasmade. And the court waxed impatient and said it had had more thanenough. Every man of the array came up to and shook Loring by the handbefore they let him leave the courtroom, and Blake hunted high and lowthrough Omaha until he found poor Petty and relieved his mind of hisimpressions, and finally the order announcing the honorable acquittalof Lieutenant Loring, on every charge and specification, was read toevery command in the department fast as the mails could carry it. 

Brought to by a bullet in the leg, George Nevins was recaptured down theMissouri three days later, and sent for his wife that she might come andnurse him. Though everybody said no, she went and did her best, and ifnursing could have saved a reprobate life he might still have remainedan ornament to society such as that in which he shone. But Naomi wore awidow's veil when late in October she returned to Folsom's roof; thegood old trader had stood her friend through all. 

There were some joyous weddings in the Department of the Platte thesummer that followed, Loring gravely figuring as best man when Dean, ofthe cavalry, was married to Elinor Folsom, and smiling with equalgravity when he read of the nuptials of Brevet Captain Petty and thegifted and beautiful Miss Allyn. He had reverted to his original idea, that of waiting in patience until he had accumulated a nest egg and hadacquired higher rank than a lieutenancy in the Engineers; and so hemight have done if it took him a dozen years had not orders carried himonce more to the Pacific coast, after the completion of the UnionPacific railway. 

Regularly every month he had written to Pancha, noting with surprise andpleasure how rapidly she learned. Gladly he went to see her at the graysisters the day after his arrival. He had meant to laughingly remind herof his good-by words: "You know we always come back to California, " buthe forgot them when she came into the room. He took her hands, drew herunderneath the chandelier and looked at her, and only said:

"Why, Pancha!"

Loring never did say much, and it was a beautiful, dark-eyed girl whouplifted those eyes to his and smiled in welcome, saying as little ashe. She was a graduate now. She was teaching the youngergirls--until--until it was decided when she should return to Guaymas--tothe home of Uncle Ramon, who had been good to her always, butespecially since her poor father's death. She did go back to Guaymas, byand by, but not until Uncle Ramon had come twice, at long intervals, toSan Francisco to see her and the good lady Superior, and to confer witha very earnest, clear-eyed, dignified man at headquarters. There came anew Idaho on the line to Guaymas, and a newer, bigger, better steamerstill a year or two later, and bluff old Captain Moreland was given thecommand of the best of the fleet, and on the first trip out from 'Friscowelcomed with open arms two subalterns of the army, one of theEngineers, the other a recent transfer to the cavalry, both old andcherished friends. 

"We won't have you with us on the back trip, Blake, old boy, " he said, as he wrung their hands when he saw them go ashore at Guaymas, "but Ican tell you right here and now there won't be anything on this ship toogood for Mrs. Loring--of the Engineers. "

"It is a pretty name! I'm glad its mine now, " said Pancha, one starlitnight on the blue Pacific, as they neared the lights of the GoldenGate. 

"It was a wounded name, Pancha, wounded worse than I, " he answeredreverently, "until you came and healed and saved it. "

THE END.