diff options
Diffstat (limited to '25884-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 25884-h/25884-h.htm | 9562 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 25884-h/images/emblem.png | bin | 0 -> 9144 bytes |
2 files changed, 9562 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/25884-h/25884-h.htm b/25884-h/25884-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2a7911e --- /dev/null +++ b/25884-h/25884-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9562 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Found in the Phillipines, by Captain Charles King. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .blockquot {margin-left:5%; margin-right:5%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; color: silver; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.minor {width: 35%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Found in the Philippines, by Charles King + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Found in the Philippines + The Story of a Woman's Letters + +Author: Charles King + +Release Date: June 23, 2008 [EBook #25884] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUND IN THE PHILIPPINES *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-top:1em;'>Found in The</p> +<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>PHILIPPINES</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:1em;'><i>The Story of a Woman’s Letters</i></p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>BY</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:1em;'>CAPTAIN CHARLES KING</p> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/emblem.png' alt='' title='' /><br /> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-top:1em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Publishers</span></p> +<p style=' font-size:1em; margin-bottom:1em;'>Eleven East Sixteenth Street New York</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:0.8em;'> +<p>Copyrighted 1899, by</p> +<p>F. Tennyson Neely.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>Copyrighted 1901, by</p> +<p>The Hobart Company.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:2em;'>FOUND IN THE PHILIPPINES.</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Something unusual was going on at division +headquarters. The men in the nearest +regimental camps, regular and volunteer, were +“lined up” along the sentry posts and silently, +eagerly watching and waiting. For a week +rumor had been rife that orders for a move +were coming and the brigades hailed it with +delight. For a month, shivering at night in +the dripping, drenching fogs drifting in from +the Pacific, or drilling for hours each day on +the bleak slopes of the Presidio Heights, they +had been praying for something to break the +monotony of the routine. They were envious +of the comrades who had been shipped to +Manila, emulous of those who had stormed +Santiago, and would have welcomed with +unreasoning enthusiasm any mandate that bore +promise of change of scene—or duty. The afternoon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +was raw and chilly; the wet wind blew +salt and strong from the westward sea, and the +mist rolled in, thick and fleecy, hiding from +view the familiar landmarks of the neighborhood +and forcing a display of lamplights in +the row of gaudy saloons across the street that +bounded the camp ground toward the setting +sun, though that invisible luminary was still +an hour high and afternoon drill only just over. +</p> +<p>Company after company in their campaign +hats and flannel shirts, in worn blue trousers +and brown canvas leggings, the men had come +swinging in from the broad driveways of the +beautiful park to the south and, as they passed +the tents of the commanding general, even +though they kept their heads erect and noses to +the front, their wary eyes glanced quickly at +the unusual array of saddled horses, of carriages +and Concord wagons halted along the curbstone, +and noted the number of officers grouped +about the gate. Ponchos and overcoat capes +were much in evidence on every side as +the men broke ranks, scattered to their tents to +stow away their dripping arms and belts, and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +then came streaming out to stare, unrebuked, +at headquarters. It was still early in the war +days, and, among the volunteers and, indeed, +among regiments of the regulars whose ranks +were sprinkled with college men who had +rubbed shoulders but a few months earlier with +certain subalterns, the military line of demarcation +was a dead letter when “the boys” were +out of sight and hearing of their seniors, and so it +happened that when a young officer came hurrying +down the pathway that led from the tents +of the general to those of the field officers of the +Tenth California, he was hailed by more than +one group of regulars along whose lines he +passed, and, as a rule, the query took the terse, +soldierly form of “What’s up, Billy?” +</p> +<p>The lieutenant nodded affably to several of +his fellows of the football field, but his hand +crept out from underneath the shrouding cape, +palm down, signalling caution. “Orders—some +kind,” he answered in tones just loud +enough to be heard by those nearest him. “Seen +the old man anywhere? The general wants +him,” and, never halting for reply the youngster +hurried on. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span></p> +<p>He was a bright, cheery, brave-eyed lad of +twenty who six months earlier was stumbling +through the sciences at the great university on +the heights beyond the glorious bay, never +dreaming of deadlier battle than that in which +his pet eleven grappled with the striped team +of a rival college. All on a sudden, to the +amaze of the elders of the great republic, the +tenets and traditions of the past were thrown to +the winds and the “Hermit Nation” leaped the +seas and flew at the strongholds of the Spanish +colonies. Volunteers sprang up by the hundred +thousand and a reluctant Congress +accorded a meagre addition to the regular +army. Many a college athlete joined the +ranks, while a limited few, gifted with relatives +who had both push and “pull,” were permitted +to pass a not very exacting examination +and join the permanent establishment as second +lieutenants forthwith. Counting those commissioned +in the regular artillery and infantry, +there must have been a dozen in the thronging +camps back of the great city, and of these +dozen, Billy Gray—“Belligerent Billy,” as a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +tutor dubbed him when the war and Billy broke +out together—the latter to the extent of a four-day’s +absence from all collegiate duty—was +easily the gem of the lot. One of the “brightest +minds” in his class, he was one of the laziest; +one of the quickest and most agile when +aroused, he was one of the torpids as a rule: +One of the kind who should have “gone in for +honors,” as the faculty said, he came nearer +going out for devilment. The only son of a +retired colonel of the army who had made California +his home, Billy had spent years in camp +and field and saddle and knew the West as he +could never hope to know Haswell. The only +natural soldier of his class when, sorely against +the will of most, they entered the student battalion, +he promptly won the highest chevrons +that could be given in the sophomore year, and, +almost as promptly, lost them for “lates” and +absences. When the ’Varsity was challenged +by a neighboring institute to a competitive drill +the “scouts” of the former reported that the +crack company of the San Pedros had the snappiest +captain they ever saw, and that, with far +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +better material to choose from, and more of it, +the ’Varsity wouldn’t stand a ghost of a show +in the eyes of the professional judges unless +Billy would “brace up” and “take hold.” Billy +was willing as Barkis, but the faculty said it +would put a premium on laxity to make Billy a +’Varsity captain even though the present incumbents +were ready, any of them, to resign in +his favor. “Prex” said No in no uncertain +terms; the challenge was declined, whereat the +institute crowed lustily and the thing got into +the rival papers. As a result a select company +of student volunteers was formed: its members +agreed to drill an hour daily in addition to the +prescribed work, provided Billy would “take +hold” in earnest, and this was the company +that, under his command, swept the boards six +weeks later and left San Pedro’s contingent an +amazed and disgusted crowd. Then Billy went +to metaphorical pieces again until the war +clouds overspread the land; then like his +father’s son he girded up his loins, went in for +a commission and won. And here he was a +“sub” in Uncle Sam’s stalwart infantry with +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +three classmates serving under him in the +ranks and half a dozen more, either as junior +officers or enlisted men, in the camps of the +volunteers. He was a handsome boy, a healthy, +hearty boy, and, as boys go, rather a good boy—a +boy in whom his mother would have found, +had she not long since been lifted above the +cares of this world, much of comfort and more +to condone, but a boy, nevertheless, who had +given his old dragoon of a dad many an anxious +hour. Now, just as he neared the legal +dividing line between youth and years of discretion, +Billy Gray had joined the third battalion +of his regiment, full of pluck, hope and +health, full of ambition to make a name for +himself in a profession he loved as, except his +father, he certainly loved nothing else, and +utterly scoffing the idea that there might come +into his life a being for the sake of whose smile +he could almost lay down his sword, for he had +yet to meet Amy Lawrence. +</p> +<p>“Who are the women folks up at headquarters, +Billy?” asked a youth of his own years +and rank, peering eagerly through the drifting +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +mist at the dim, ghostly outlines of the general’s +camp. +</p> +<p>“Didn’t get to see ’em. Where’s the old +man—the colonel?” was the reply. “Chief +wants him toot de sweet!” +</p> +<p>“What’s wanted?” called a voice from the +biggest of the neighboring tents, and a close-cropped +head was thrust out between the front +tent flaps. “That you, Billy? Who wants the +colonel? He and the ‘brig’ rode over to the +Presidio an hour ago—ain’t got back. Come +in; I’ve started a fire in our oil stove.” A puff +of warm air blew from the interior and confirmed +the statement. It was well along in +summer and, not a dozen miles away to the east, +men were strolling about with palm-leaf fans +and wilted collars. Here, close to the gray +shores of the mighty sea, blankets and overcoats +were in demand. Hospitably the older officer +tugged at the lacings of the military front +door, swore between his set teeth when the +knots, swollen by the wet, withstood his efforts +and then shouted: +</p> +<p>“Sergeant-major; send somebody here to open +this.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span></p> +<p>A light footstep sounded on the springy +board floor, nimble fingers worked a moment +at the cords, then the flap was thrown open and +the adjutant’s office stood partially revealed. +It was a big wall tent backed up against +another of the same size and pattern. Half a +dozen plain chairs, two rough board tables littered +with books, papers and smoking tobacco, +an oil stove and a cheap clothes rack on which +were hanging raincoats, ponchos and a cape +or two, comprised all the furniture. In a stout +frame of unplaned wood, cased in their oilskins +and tightly rolled, stood the colors of the +famous regiment; and back of them, well +within the second tent where one clerk was +just lighting a camp lantern, were perched +on rough tables a brace of field desks with +the regimental books. The sergeant-major, +a veteran of years of service in the regulars, +sat at one of them. A young soldier, he +who had unfastened the tent flap to admit +Lieutenant Gray, was just returning to his seat +at the other. Two orderlies lounged on a bench +well beyond and back of the sergeant-major’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +seat, and a bugler, with his hands in his pockets, +was smoking a short brier-root pipe at the +opposite or back doorway. Woe to the enlisted +men who sought the presence of the colonel or +adjutant through any other channel. The sergeant-major +would drop on him with the force +of a baseball bat. +</p> +<p>“Who all are over yahnduh at the chief’s?” +asked the adjutant, as soon as he had his visitor +well inside, and the soft accent as well as +the quaint phraseology told that in the colonel’s +confidential staff officer a Southerner spoke. +</p> +<p>“All the brigade and most regimental commanders +’cept ours, I should say, and they seem +to be waiting for them. Can’t we send?” was +the answer, as the junior whipped off his campaign +hat and sprinkled the floor with the vigorous +shakes he gave the battered felt. +</p> +<p>“Have sent,” said his entertainer briefly, as +he filled a pipe from the open tobacco box and +struck a safety match. “Orderly galloped +after him ten minutes ago. Blow the brigade +and battalion commanders! What I asked you +was who are the women up there?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span></p> +<p>“No, you didn’t! You said, ‘who all are up +yonder?’ I’m a sub, and s’posed you meant +<i>men</i>—soldiers—officers. What have I to do +with anybody in petticoats?” +</p> +<p>“And I’m a grizzled vet of a dozen years’ +duty, crows’ feet and gray hairs a-comin’,” +grinned the adjutant, pulling at a long curly +mustache and drawing himself up to his full +height of six feet, “and when you’re as old as +I am and half as wise, Billy, you’ll know that +a pretty girl is worth ten times the thought our +old frumps of generals demand. My name +ain’t Gordon if I haven’t a mind to waltz over +there through the mist and the wind just to +tell them I’ve sent for Squeers. Then I’ll get +a look at the girls.” +</p> +<p>“I’ve got to go back,” said Billy, “and +you’ve no business to—with Mrs. Gordon and +an interesting family to consider. What tent’d +the ladies go to? <i>I</i> didn’t see ’em.” +</p> +<p>“Mrs. Gordon, suh,” said the adjutant, with +placid superiority, “considers it a reflection on +her sex when I fail to pay it due homage. Of +course you didn’t see the ladies. The party +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +was shown into the general’s own domicile. +Couldn’t you see how many young fellows were +posing in picturesque attitudes in front of it? +Awe Hank!” he suddenly shouted to an officer +striding past the tent in dripping mackintosh. +“Goin’ up to division headquarters? Just tell +the staff or the chief I’ve sent an orderly galloping +after Squeers. He’s halfway to the +Presidio now, but it’ll be an hour before they +can get back.” The silent officer nodded and +went on, whereat Gordon made a spring for the +entrance and hailed again. +</p> +<p>“Say, Hank! Who are the damsels?” +</p> +<p>The answer came back through the fog: +</p> +<p>“People from the East—looking for a runaway. +Old gent, pretty daughter, and pretty +daughter’s prettier cousin. Heard the orders?” +</p> +<p>“Damn the orders! They don’t touch <i>us</i>. +Where do they come from?” +</p> +<p>“D’rect from Washington, they say. Three +regiments to sail at once, and——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I know all that!” shouted Gordon +impatiently. “It was all over camp an hour +ago! Where do they—the girls—come from? +What’s their name?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>“Wasn’t presented,” was the sulky reply. +“Let a lot of stuffy old women show up in +search of long-lost sons and those fellows at +headquarters unload them on us in less than no +time, but a brace of pretty girls—! Why, they +double the gate guards so that no outsider can +so much as see them. Billy, here, knows ’em. +Ask him.” +</p> +<p>By this time the youngster had ranged up +alongside the adjutant and was laughingly +enjoying the latest arrival’s tirade at the +expense of the headquarters’ staff, but at his +closing words Lieutenant Billy’s grin of amusement +suddenly left his face, giving way to a +look of blank amaze. +</p> +<p>“<i>I</i> know ’em! I haven’t been east of the Big +Muddy since I was a kid.” +</p> +<p>“They asked for you all the same, just after +you started. ’Least one of ’em did—for What’s-his-name?—the +chief’s military legal adviser, +came out bareheaded and called after you, but +you were out of hearing. He said the cousin, +the prettiest one, recognized you as you skipped +away from the general’s tent and pointed you +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +out to her friend. Somebody explained you +were running an errand for one of those aides +too lazy to go himself, and that you’d be back +presently.” +</p> +<p>“Then go at once, young man,” said the +adjutant, laying a mighty hand on the junior’s +square shoulder. “Stand not upon the order +of your going, but git! Never you mind about +the colonel. He won’t be <i>here</i> until after he’s +been <i>there</i>, and he’s in for a rasping over this +morning’s inspection. Just look at the report. +Sergeant-major, send me Colonel Colt’s +report!” he called aloud, tossing his head back +as he spoke, “Come in, Parson; come out of +the wet.” And, eager enough to read a famous +inspector’s criticisms of the appearance of the +regiment, the officer addressed as Parson +shoved briskly into the tent. +</p> +<p>The young soldier who had opened the tent +flap a few minutes before came forward with +a folded paper which, in silence, he handed the +adjutant and turned back to his desk. Mr. +Gordon took the paper, but his eyes followed +the soldier. Then he called, somewhat sharply: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></p> +<p>“Morton!” +</p> +<p>The young fellow stopped at the dividing +crack between the two tent floors, and slowly +faced the three officers. He was slender, well +built, erect. His uniform fitted him trimly, +and was worn with easy grace, his hands and +feet were small and slender, his eyes and hair +dark and fine, his features delicate and clear +cut, his complexion a trifle blistered and beaten +by the harsh winds that whistled in every day +from the sea, and, as he turned, all three officers +were struck by its extreme pallor. +</p> +<p>“You’re sick again, Morton,” said the adjutant +somewhat sternly. “I thought I told you +to see Dr. Heffernan. Have you done so?” +</p> +<p>“I—wasn’t sick enough,” faltered the young +soldier. “I was all right a minute or two—or +rather this morning, sir. It’ll be over presently. +Perhaps it was the smell of the oil that +did it—the stove is close to my desk.” +</p> +<p>But Gordon continued to look at him doubtfully. +</p> +<p>“Move your desk across the tent for the present, +anyhow,” said he, “and I’ll speak to the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +doctor myself. With all this newspaper hullabaloo +about our neglect of the sick,” continued +he, turning to his friends, “if a man changes +color at sight of a smash-up he must be turned +over to the Red Cross at once. What is it, +orderly?” he finished suddenly, as the tent flaps +parted and a soldier in complete uniform, girt +with his belt of glistening cartridges, stood at +salute, some visiting cards in his gloved hand. +</p> +<p>“Lieutenant Gray here, sir?” was the comprehensive +answer. Then, catching sight of +the young officer who stepped quickly forward, +he held forth the cards. +</p> +<p>“The adjutant-general’s compliments, sir, +and he’d be glad if the lieutenant would come +over at once.” +</p> +<p>Gray took the cards, curiously studied them +and then read aloud, one after the other, and +placing the topmost underneath the other two +as soon as read. +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Mr. Lispenard Prime</span>.”</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Miss Prime</span>.”</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Miss Amy Lawrence</span>.”</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>It was the last name that lay uppermost at +the end, receiving particular attention, and the +Parson noted it. +</p> +<p>“That’s the pretty cousin, Billy,” quoth he. +“Case of the last shall be first, don’t you see? +Scoot now, you lucky boy, and tell us all about +it later.” +</p> +<p>But Gray was still gazing dreamily at the +cards. +</p> +<p>“I’m sure I never met any of them before in +my life,” said he. “There must be some mistake. +Yet—that name—sounds familiar—somehow,” +and “that” was the only name now in +sight. “I’m off,” he suddenly announced, and +vanished. +</p> +<p>There was a sound of light, quick footsteps +on the flooring of the rearward tent at the +same time. The sergeant-major glanced up +from his writing; looked at a vacant desk, +then at the clock, then, inquiringly, at his regimental +deity—the adjutant. It was just the +hour of the day at which all manner of papers +were coming down from division and brigade +headquarters to be duly stamped, noted and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +stacked up for the colonel’s action. This +was the young clerk Morton’s especial function, +but Morton had left the office and was +gone. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> +</div> + +<p>The little party of visitors in the general’s +personal tent made a striking contrast to that +assembled under the official canvas. In the +latter, seated on camp stools and candle boxes +or braced against the tent poles were nearly a +dozen officers, all in the sombre dark blue regulation +uniform, several in riding boots and +spurs, some even wearing the heavy, frogged +overcoat; all but two, juniors of the staff, men +who stood on the shady side of forty, four of the +number wearing on their shoulders the silver +stars of generals of division or brigade, and +among their thinning crops of hair the silver +strands that told of years of service. One man +alone, the commanding general, was speaking; +all the others listened in respectful silence. In +the gloom of that late, fog-shrouded afternoon +a lantern or two would have been welcome, but +the conference had begun while it was still +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +light enough for the chief to read the memoranda +on his desk, and now he was talking without +notes. In the array of grave, thoughtful +faces, some actually somber and severe in +expression, a smile would have seemed out of +place, yet, all of a sudden, grim features +relaxed, deep-set eyes twinkled and glanced +quickly about in search of kindred sympathetic +spirits, and more than half the bearded faces +broadened into a grin of merriment and as +many heads were suddenly uplifted, for just as +the gray-haired chief ended an impressive +period with the words: “It will be no laughing +matter if I can lay hold of them,” there burst +upon the surprised ears of the group a peal of +the merriest laughter imaginable—the rippling, +joyous, musical laughter of happy girlhood +mingling with the hearty, wholesome, if somewhat +boyish, outburst of jollity, of healthful +youth. +</p> +<p>“Merciful powers!” exclaimed the chief. “I +had forgotten all about those people. They +must have been here twenty minutes.” +</p> +<p>“Sixty-five, sir, by the watch,” said a saturnine-looking +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +soldier, tall and stalwart, and +wearing the shield of the adjutant-general’s +department on the collar of his sack coat. +</p> +<p>“They ought to go, then,” was the placid +suggestion of a third officer, a man with keen +eyes, thin, almost ascetic, face, but there +twitched a quaint humor about the lines of his +lips. “That visit’s past the retiring age.” +</p> +<p>And then another peal of merriment from the +adjoining tent put stop to conversation. +</p> +<p>“They don’t lack for entertainers,” hazarded +a staff officer as soon as he could make himself +heard. “The solemn-looking Gothamite who +came with them must have slipped out.” +</p> +<p>“It seems he knows Colonel Armstrong,” said +the chief thoughtfully. “I sent for him an +hour ago, and he may be piloting Mr. Prime +around camp, looking up the runaway.” +</p> +<p>“Another case?” asked a brigade commander +with a shrug of his shoulders. +</p> +<p>“Another case,” answered the general, with +a sigh. “It isn’t always home troubles that +drive them to it. This boy had everything a +doting father could give him. What on earth +could make <i>him</i> bolt and enlist for the war?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p> +<p>No one answered for a moment. Then the +officer with the humorous twinkle about the +eyes and the twitch at the lip corners, bent forward, +placed his elbows on his knees, his fingers +tip to tip, gazed dreamily at the floor, and sententiously +said: +</p> +<p>“Girl.” +</p> +<p>Whereupon his next neighbor, a stocky, +thickset man in the uniform of a brigadier, +never moving eye, head or hand, managed to +bring a sizable foot in heavy riding boot almost +savagely upon the slim gaiter of the humorist, +who suddenly started and flushed to the temples, +glanced quickly at the chief, and then as +quickly back to the floor, his blue eyes clouded +in genuine distress. +</p> +<p>The general’s gray face had seemed to grow +grayer in the gloom. Again there came, like +a rippling echo, the chorus of merry laughter +from the adjoining tent, only it seemed a trifle +subdued, possibly as though one or two of the +merry-makers had joined less heartily. With +sudden movement the general rose: “Well, I’ve +kept you long enough,” he said. “Let the three +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +regiments be got in readiness at once, but relax +no effort in—that other matter. Find the guilty +parties if a possible thing.” +</p> +<p>And then the group dissolved. One or two +of the number looked back, half-hesitating, at +the entrance of the tent, but the chief had turned +again to the littered table before him, and seating +himself, rested his gray head in the hand +nearest his visitors. It was as though he wished +to conceal his face. One of the last to go—the +thin-faced soldier with the twinkling blue eyes, +hung irresolutely behind the chief a moment as +though he had it in his mind to speak, then +turned and fairly tiptoed out, leaving the camp +commander to the society of a single staff officer, +and to the gathering darkness. +</p> +<p>“Kindly say to Mr. Prime, or his friends, +that I will join them in a moment,” said the +former, presently, without so much as uplifting +head or eye, and the aide-de-camp left as noiselessly +as his predecessor, the humorist. But +when he was gone and “The Chief” sat alone, +the sound of merry chat and laughter still +drifted in with the mist at the half-opened +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +entrance. Shadowy forms flitted to and fro +between the official tent and the lights beginning +to twinkle at brigade headquarters across +the wide roadway. An orderly scratched at the +tent flap, but got no answer. The lone occupant +sat well back in the gloomy interior and +could barely be distinguished. The waiting +soldier hesitated a moment, then entered and +stamped once upon the wooden floor, then turned +and noiselessly stepped out, for, anticipating +his question, the general spoke: +</p> +<p>“No light just yet, orderly. I’ll call you—in +a moment. Just close the tent.” +</p> +<p>At his hand, he needed no light to find it, +lay a little packet that had been passed in to +him with the mail while the council was still +in session. It was stoutly wrapped, tightly +corded, and profusely sealed, but with the sharp +point of an eraser the general slit the fastenings, +tore off the wrapper, and felt rather than +saw, that a bundle of letters, rolled in tissue +paper and tied with ribbon, ribbon long since +faded and wrinkled, lay within. This he carefully +placed in a large-sized military letter +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +envelope, moistened and pressed tight the +gummed flap, stowed it in the inner pocket of +the overcoat that hung at the rear tent pole, +reduced the wrapper and its superscription to +minute fragments, and dropped them into the +waste-basket, all as carefully and methodically +as though life knew neither hurry nor worry; +then bowed his lined face in both hands a +moment in utter silence and in unmistakable +sadness. Presently his lips moved: “Can you +look down and see that I have kept my word, +Agnes?” he murmured. “God help me to find +him and save him—yet.” +</p> +<p>Once again the laughter, the gay young +voices, rang from the other tent. All over +camp, far and near, from the limits of the park +to the very slope of the height at the north, the +evening bugles were calling by thousands the +thronging soldiery to mess or roll call. Slowly +the General rose, drew on his overcoat, and in +another moment, under the sloping visor of his +forage-cap, with eyes that twinkled behind +their glasses, with a genial smile softening every +feature, his fine soldierly face peered in on the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +scene of light, of merriment and laughter under +the canvas roof of the only home he knew in +the world—the soldier home of one whose life +had been spent following the flag through bivouac, +camp or garrison, through many a march, +battle and campaign all over the broad lands of +the United States until now, at the hour when +most men turned for the placid joys of the fireside, +the love of devoted and faithful wife, the +homage and affection of children, the prattle +and playful sports of children’s children—homeless, +wifeless, childless he stood at the border +of the boundless sea, soldier duty pointing +the way to far distant, unknown and undesired +regions, content to follow that flag to the end +of the world, if need be, and owning no higher +hope or ambition than to uphold it to the end +of his life. +</p> +<p>There was nothing in such a face as his to +put a check to fun and merriment, yet, all on +a sudden, the laughter died away. Three young +gallants in soldier garb sprang to their feet and +faced him with appeal and explanation in their +speaking eyes, although only one of their number +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +found his tongue in time to put the matter +into words. There were only two girls when +the general left that tent to meet his officers at +four o’clock, and now there were four, and the +four were having five-o’clock tea. +</p> +<p>At least any one would have said they were +four blithe girls, innocent of graver responsibilities +than social calls and dinner or dance +engagements, for never looked four young +women so free from the cares of this world as did +those who were picturesquely grouped about the +General’s camp table and under the brilliant +reflector of the General’s lamp, but the plain +gold circlet on the slender finger of the merriest +and noisiest and smallest of the four, and the +fact that she had nothing to say to the elder +of the three attendant officers except in the brief, +indifferent tones of assured proprietorship, and +very much to say to the others, told a different +story. The General’s manner lost none +of its kindness, even though a close observer +would have seen that his face lost a little of its +light as he recognized in the evident leader of +the revels and mistress of the situation the wife +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +of his senior aide-de-camp. An hour before he +thought her a thousand miles away—and so did +her husband. +</p> +<p>“Bless your dear old heart!” exclaimed the +little lady, springing to her feet, facing him +with indomitable smiles and thrusting forward +two slender, white, bejeweled hands. “No—don’t +say you disapprove! Don’t scold! Don’t +do anything but sit right down here and have +a cup of your own delicious tea—(Frank, some +boiling water)—that no one makes for you as +I do—you’ve owned it many a time. And then +we’re all going in to the Palace for dinner and +then to the theatre, and I’ll tell you all about +it between the courses or between the acts. Oh, +you poor dear! I ought to have come before—you’ve +been working yourself to death!” +</p> +<p>And by this time, resolutely pulling, she had +towed the General to a chair, and into this, his +favorite leather-armed, canvas-backed, hickory-framed +companion of many a year, she deftly +dropped him and then, giving him no chance +for a word, gayly pirouetting, she seized one +after another upon each member of the party +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +present—an accomplished little mistress of ceremonies +encased in a tailor-made traveling suit +that rendered her proof against a dozen minor +ills, so beautifully was it cut and fitted to her +pretty figure—and, with inexhaustible flow of +merry words, presented her or him to the veteran +in the chair: +</p> +<p>“This, my honored General, first and foremost, +is Miss Mildred Prime, daughter of a +thousand earls is she, yet one <i>vastly</i> to be +desired, though I say it who should not, for she +hails from New York, which is enough to make +me hate her, whereas we’ve just sworn an eternal +friendship. You’ve only casually met her +and her folks before, but <i>I</i> can tell you all +about them. You should have put Frank at +the head of your Intelligence Bureau, General. +<i>He’d</i> never find out anything, but <i>I</i> would. +We came on the same train together all the +way from Ogden.” +</p> +<p>A tall, dark-eyed, dark-haired, oval-faced +girl, coloring slightly in evident embarassment +over these odd army ways, courtesied smilingly +to the General and seemed to be pleading +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +dumbly for clemency if there had been transgression. +</p> +<p>“This,” hurried on the voluble little woman, +seizing another feminine wrist, “is Miss Cherry +Langton—Cherry Ripe we call her at home this +summer, the dearest girl that ever lived except +myself, and one you’ll simply delight in—as you +do in me—when you get to know her. She is, +as you have often been told and have probably +forgotten, the only good-looking member of +Frank’s family—his first cousin. She was +moping her heart out after all the nice young +men in Denver went to the wars, and withering +on the stem until I told her she should go too, +when she blossomed and blushed with joy as +you see her now, sir. Cherry, make your manners.” +Cherry, whose name well described +her, was only waiting for a chance, laughing +the while at the merry flow of her chaperon’s +words, and, at the first break, stepped quickly +forward and placed her hand frankly in the +outstretched palm of her host, then glanced +eagerly over her shoulder as though she would +say: “But you must see <i>her</i>,” and her bright +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +eyes sought and found the fourth feminine +member of the group. +</p> +<p>“And this,” said Mrs. Frank Garrison, +bravely, yet with a trifle less confidence of +manner, with indeed a faint symptom of hesitancy, +“is Miss Amy Lawrence,” and in +extending her little hand to take that of the +most retiring of the three girls, only the finger +tips and thumb seemed to touch. Miss Lawrence +came quickly forward, and waiting for +no description, bowed with quiet grace and dignity +to the chief and, smiling a bit gravely, +said: +</p> +<p>“Uncle left word that he would soon return, +General, but he has been gone with Colonel +Armstrong nearly an hour. I hope we have +not taken too great a liberty,” and her glance +turned to the substantial tea service on the rude +camp table. +</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>I’m</i> responsible for that—and for any +and every iniquity here committed, solely +because I know our General too well to believe +he would allow famishing damsels to faint for +lack of sustenance.” It was Mrs. Garrison, of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +course, who spoke. “I simply set Frank and +his fellows to work, with the result that tea +and biscuit, light and warmth, mirth and merriment, +faith, hope and charity sprang up like +magic in this gloomy old tent, and here we are +still. Now, say you’re glad I came, General, +for these stupid boys—Oh! I quite forgot! Let +me present the slaves of the lamp—the spirit +lamp, General. Frank you know—too well, I +dare say. Stand forth, vassal Number Two. +This, General, is Captain Schuyler, a mite of a +man physically—a Gothamite, in fact—but a +tower of wit and wisdom when permitted to +speak.” (A diminutive youngster, with a head +twice too big for his body, and a world of fun +in his sparkling eyes, bowed elaborately to his +commanding general, but prudently held his +peace.) “Captain Schuyler, my dear General, +meekly bears the crescent of the subsistence +department on his beautifully high and unquestionably +New York-made collars. He hasn’t +an idea on the subject of supplies except that +commissary cigars are bad, but his senator said +he had to have something and that’s what he +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +got. He’d rather be second lieutenant of regular +infantry any day, but that was too high for +him. <i>Here’s</i> a youth it fits to a ‘t’—Mr. William +Gray of the —teenth Foot, whom I knew +years ago when we were kids in the same camp, +and whose best claim to your notice is that you +knew his father. He says so, and hopes you’ll +forgive all his budding iniquities on the +strength of it.” The General nodded with a +grin at the youngster who stood at Miss Lawrence’s +left, and then held up his hand for +silence, shutting off further presentations. +</p> +<p>“I’ll forgive anything but more chatter,” +said he, with a placid smile, “provided you +give me some tea at once. Then I should be +glad to know how you all happened to meet +here.” +</p> +<p>“My doing entirely, General. (Frank, another +cup—quick!) Cherry came with me to surprise +my husband—an easy thing to do—I’m always +doing it. We found him here, by your orders, +striving to entertain these two charming damsels—the +last thing on earth he is capable of +doing, however valuable he may be with orders +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +and correspondence. <i>I</i> heard Mr. Prime’s story +and at once suggested Colonel Armstrong. <i>I</i> +heard Miss Lawrence exclaim at sight of Billy +here, and saw a case of old acquaintance and +sent for him forthwith. So easy to say: ‘The +adjutant-general’s compliments’—<i>I</i> found that, +after all, they had never met, but Miss Lawrence +had seen him at the head of some famous +student company. <i>I</i> it was who presented him +to her, and summoned Captain Schuyler to +meet once more his fellow-citizens, the Primes. +<i>I</i> it was who ordered lamps, fire and the tea +things. <i>I</i> am the good fairy who wrought the +transformation. Behold me with my wand!” +</p> +<p>She seized Miss Langton’s slender umbrella +and, waving it over her curly little head, +pirouetted again in triumphant gayety. +</p> +<p>The General was thoughtfully sipping his tea +and studying her as she chattered and danced. +When she paused a moment for breath he again +held up his hand. +</p> +<p>“Colonel Armstrong went with Mr. Prime, +did he?” +</p> +<p>“With every assurance that the prodigal +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +should be produced forthwith and restored to +the paternal bosom,” declaimed Mrs. Garrison +melodramatically, and would have ranted on, +never noting the flush of pain and embarrassment +that almost instantly appeared in the +faces of Miss Lawrence and her dark-eyed Eastern +cousin, nor seeing the warning in her husband’s +eyes, but at the moment the tent flap +was thrown back and held open to admit a tall, +gray-haired civilian whose silk hat was uplifted +as he entered, in courteous recognition of +the group, despite the distress that was betrayed +in the pallor of his face and the instant glance +of his dark eyes toward the slender girl, who +stepped eagerly forward. Mrs. Garrison, turning +quickly, saw, and with swift, agile movement, +sprang to one side. The General slowly +struggled up from his easy-chair. Reaching +her father’s side, Miss Prime laid her hand +upon his arm, looking fondly and anxiously +into his face. +</p> +<p>A soldierly, middle-aged officer, in dripping +forage cap and rain coat, stepped quickly in +and lowered the flap. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +“Did you find him, father?” was Miss +Prime’s low-toned, faltering question. +</p> +<p>“We found—the soldier referred to; Colonel +Armstrong has been most kind; but—it wasn’t +your brother at all, my child.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +</div> + +<p>A day had dawned on the Presidio Heights +as brilliant as its predecessor had been dismal. +A soft south wind had swept the fogs of the +Pacific far out to sea and cleared the summer +sky of every wisp of vapor. The sun of early +August shone hot and strong upon the sandy +wastes between the westward limits of the division +camps and the foamy strand beneath the +low bluffs, and beat upon the canvas homes of +the rejoicing soldiery, slacking cloth and cordage +so that the trim tent lines had become +broken and jagged, thereby setting the teeth of +“Old Squeers” on edge, as he gazed grimly +from under the brim of his unsightly felt hat +and called for his one faithful henchman, the +orderly. Even his adjutant could not condone +the regimental commander’s objectionable +traits, for a crustier old villain of a veteran +lived not in the line of the army. “Ould +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +Canker” the troopers had dubbed him during +the few years he had served in the cavalry, +transplanted from a foot regiment at the time +of the reorganization, so-called, of the army in +’71; but a few years of mounted duty in Arizona +and later in the Sioux country had sickened +him of cavalry life and he gladly accepted +a chance to transfer back to the infantry. Now, +twenty years after, risen by degrees to the +grade of lieutenant-colonel, he found himself in +command of a famous old regiment of regulars, +whose colonel had donned the stars +of a general officer of volunteers, and the pet +name—save the mark—of cavalry days had +given place to the unflattering <i>sobriquet</i> +derived from that horror of boyish readers—the +ill-favored schoolmaster of Dotheboys Hall. +He had come to the —teenth with a halo of +condemnation from the regiment in which he +had served as major and won his baleful name, +and “the boys” of his new command soon +learned to like him even less than those who +had dubbed him “Squeers,” because, as they +explained, there wasn’t any privilege or pleasure +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +he would not “do the boys” out of if he possibly +could. Gordon had promptly tendered +his resignation as regimental adjutant when his +beloved colonel left the post to report for duty +in the army destined for Cuba, but Lieutenant-Colonel +Canker declined to accept it, and fairly +told Gordon that, as he hadn’t a friend among +the subalterns, there was no one else to take it. +Then, too, the colonel himself wrote a word or +two and settled the matter. +</p> +<p>A big review had been ordered for the morning. +An entire brigade of sturdy volunteers +was already forming and marching out by battalions +to their regimental parades, the men +showing in their easy stride and elastic carriage +the effects of two months’ hard drill and gradually +increasing discipline. The regulars were +still out in the park, hidden by the dense foliage +and busy with their company drills. The adjutant +and clerk were at their papers in the big +office tent, and only the sentries, the sick and +the special duty men remained about the body of +camp. There was no one, said Private Noonan +to himself, as he paced the pathway in +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +front of the colonel’s tent, after having scrupulously +saluted him on his appearance, “No wan +fur the ould man to whack at, barrin’ it’s me,” +but even Canker could find nothing to “whack +at” in this veteran soldier who had served in +the ranks since the days of the great war and +had borne the messages of such men as Sheridan, +Thomas and McPherson when Canker +himself was sweating under his knapsack and +musket. Like most men, even most objectionable +men, Canker had some redeeming features, +and that was one of them—he had been a private +soldier, and a brave one, too, and was +proud of it. +</p> +<p>But life had little sunshine in it for one of +his warped, ill-conditioned nature. There was +a profound conviction in the minds of the company +officers that the mere sight of happiness +or content in the face of a subordinate was +more than enough to set Canker’s wits to work +to wipe it out. There was no doubt whatever +in the minds of the subalterns that the main +reason why Squeers was so manifestly “down +on” Billy Gray was the almost indestructible +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +expression of good nature, jollity and enthusiasm +that had shown in the little fellow’s face +ever since he joined the regiment. “If we call +the old man Squeers we should dub Billy Mark +Tapley,” said Gordon one day, when the lad +had laughed off the effect of an unusually acrimonious +rasping over a trivial error in the +Guard Report book. “He’s no end kind when +a fellow’s in a fix,” said Gray, in explanation, +“and all the time he was soaking me I was +thinking how he stood by Jimmy Carson in <i>his</i> +scrape”—a serious scrape it was, too, for young +Carson, detailed to escort certain prisoners to +Alcatraz and intrusted with certain funds to be +turned over to the chief quartermaster of the +department, had unaccountably fallen into a +deep sleep aboard the train and awoke to find +both funds and prisoners gone. Explanations +were useless. The commanding general would +listen to no excuse; a court-martial was ordered, +and a very worthy young officer’s military +career seemed about to close under a cloud, +when “Old Canker” threw himself into the +breach. He had long suspected the sergeant +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +who had accompanied the party in immediate +command of the little guard. He hated the +commanding general with all his soul, and, +how it came about no one could thoroughly +explain, but one day Canker turned up with +indubitable proof that the sergeant was the +thief—that he was bribed to bring about the +escape of the prisoners, and that he had drugged +the fresh spring water he brought in to the +young officer after the burning heat of the +desert was left behind in the dead of the summer +night. Canker even recovered most of the +stolen money, for there was a woman in the +case, and she had safely stowed it away. Carson +was cleared and Canker triumphant. “See +what the man can do when his sense of justice +is aroused,” said the optimists of the army. +“Justice be blowed,” answered the cynics. +“He never would have raised his finger to help +Carson but for the joy of proving the General +unjust, and a regimental pet—the sergeant—a +thief.” +</p> +<p>Yet Gray reverted to this episode as explanation +of his tolerance of Canker’s harshness and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +thereby gave rise to a rejoinder from the lips +of a veteran company commander that many a +fellow was destined to recall before the regiment +was two months older: +</p> +<p>“In order to settle it, somebody’s got to find +his life or his commission in jeopardy. Maybe +it’ll be you, Billy, and I’m betting <i>you</i> won’t +find Squeers a guardian angel.” +</p> +<p>Yet on this sunshiny summer morning, with +hope and sunshine and confidence in his handsome, +boyish face, Lieutenant Gray came bounding +up to the presence of the regimental commander +as though that sour-visaged soldier +were an indulgent uncle who could not say him +nay. A stylish open carriage in which were +seated two remarkably pretty girls and a gray-haired, +slender gentleman, had reined up in the +street opposite the entrance to the row of officers’ +tents and Canker had ripped out his +watch, with an ugly frown on his forehead, for +three of his companies had just marched in +from drill, and three of their young lieutenants, +on the instant of dismissal, had made straight +for the vehicle and he half-hoped to find they +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +had lopped off a minute or so of the allotted +hour. The sound of merry laughter seemed to +grate on his ears. The sight of Gray’s beaming +face seemed to deepen the gloom in his own. +Instinctively he knew the youngster had come +to ask a favor and he stood ready to refuse. +</p> +<p>“Colonel, I’d like mightily to go over and +see that review this morning, sir; and Mr. +Prime is good enough to offer me a seat in his +carriage. May I go, sir?” +</p> +<p>“You can’t go anywhere, sir, with the tents +of your company in that disgraceful condition. +Just look at them, sir,—as ragged as a wash +line on a windy day!” And Canker scowled +angrily at the young fellow standing squarely +at attention before him. +</p> +<p>“I know that, colonel, but the sun did that +while we were out at drill, and the men will +straighten everything in ten minutes. I’ll give +the order now, sir.” And Billy looked as +though refusal were out of the question. +</p> +<p>“You’ll stay and see it done, sir, and <i>when</i> +it’s done—to my satisfaction—will be time +enough to ask for favors. Mr. Gordon, send +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +word to the company commanders I wish to see +them here at once,” continued the senior officer, +whirling on his heel and terminating the interview +by so doing. It was in Gray’s mind for a +brief minute to follow and plead. He had made +it tell many a time with an obstinate university +Don, but he knew the carriage was waiting—the +carriage load watching, and deep down in +his heart there was keen disappointment. He +would have given a big slice of his monthly +pay to go with that particular party, occupy +the seat opposite Amy Lawrence and gaze his +fill at her fair face. He well-nigh hated +Squeers as he hurried away to hail his first sergeant +and give the necessary orders before daring +to return to the carriage and report his failure. +His bright blue eyes were clouded and his +face flushed with vexation, for he saw that the +rearmost regiment was even now filing into the +Presidio Reservation afar off to the north, and +that no time was to be lost if his friends were +to see the review. The distant measured boom +of guns told that the General in whose honor +the ceremony was ordered was already approaching +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +the appointed spot, and away over the rolling +uplands toward the Golden Gate a cavalry +escort rode into view. Billy ground his teeth. +“Run and tell them I cannot get leave,” he +called to a fellow sub. “Squeers has set me to +work straightening up camp. Turn out the +company, sergeant! Brace the tent cords and +align tents,” and a mournful wave of his forage +cap was the only greeting he dare trust +himself to give, as after a few minutes of fruitless +waiting the vacant seat was given to +another officer and the carriage rolled rapidly +away. A second or two it was hidden from his +sight behind the large wall tents along the line +of fence, then shot into full view again as he +stood at the end of the company street looking +eagerly for its reappearance. And then occurred +a little thing that was destined to live in his +memory for many a day, and that thrilled him +with a new and strange delight. He had never +been of the so-called “spooney” set at the ’Varsity. +Pretty girls galore there were about that +famous institute, and he had danced at many a +student party and romped through many a reel, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +but the nearest he had ever come to something +more than a mere jolly friendship for a girl was +the regard in which he held his partner in the +“Mixed Doubles,” but that was all on account +of her exuberant health, spirits, general comeliness +of face and form, and exquisite skill in +tennis. But this day a new and eager longing +was eating at his heart; a strange, dull pang +seemed to seize upon it as he noted in a flash +that the seat that was to have been his was +occupied by an officer many years his senior, a +man he knew only by sight and an enviable +reputation, a man whose soldierly, clear-cut +face never turned an instant, for his eyes were +fixed upon a lovely picture on the opposite seat—Amy +Lawrence bending eagerly forward and +gazing with her beautiful eyes alight with sympathy, +interest and frank liking in search of +the sorely disappointed young officer. “There +he is!” she cried, though too far away for him +to hear, and then, with no more thought of +coquetry than a kitten, with no more motive +in the world than that of conveying to him an +idea of her sorrow, her sympathy, her perhaps +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +pardonable and exaggerated indignation at +what she deemed an act of tyranny on part of +his commander, with only an instant in which +to express it all—her sweet face flushed, her +eyes flamed with the light of her girlish enthusiasm +and in that instant she had kissed her +hand to him. Colonel Armstrong, turning +suddenly and sharply to see who could be the +object of interest so absorbing, caught one flitting +glimpse of Billy Gray lifting his cap in +quick acknowledgment, and the words that +were on the tip of Armstrong’s tongue the +moment before were withheld for a more auspicious +occasion—and it did not come too soon. +</p> +<p>It was only four days after that initial meeting +in the General’s tent the foggy evening of +the girl’s first visit to camp, but both in town +and on the tented field there had been several +young ladies. Junior officers had monopolized +the time and attention of the latter, but +Armstrong was a close observer and a man +who loved all that was strong, high-minded +and true in his own sex, and that was pure and +sweet and winsome in woman. A keen soldier, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +he had spent many years in active service, most +of them in the hardy, eventful and vigorous +life of the Indian frontier. He had been conspicuous +in more than one stirring campaign +against the red warriors of the plains, had won +his medal of honor before his first promotion, +and his captaincy by brevet for daring conduct +in action long antedated the right to wear the +double bars of that grade. He had seen much +of the world, at home and abroad; had traveled +much, read much, thought much, but these were +things of less concern to many a woman in our +much married army than the question as to +whether he had ever loved much. Certain it +was he had never married, but <i>that</i> didn’t +settle it. Many a man loves, said they, without +getting married, forgetful of the other side of +the preposition advanced by horrid regimental +cynics, that many men marry without getting +loved. Armstrong would not have proved an +easy man to question on that, or indeed on any +other subject which he considered personal to +himself. Even in his own regiment in the +regular service he had long been looked upon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +as an exclusive sort of fellow—a man who had +no intimates and not many companions, yet, +officers and soldiers, he held the respect and +esteem of the entire command, even of those +whom he kept at a distance, and few are the +regiments in which there are not one or two +characters who are best seen and studied +through a binocular. Without being sympathetic, said +his critics, Armstrong was “square,” +but his critics had scant means of knowing +whether he was sympathetic or not. He was +a steadfast fellow, an unswerving, uncompromising +sort of man, a man who would never +have done for a diplomat, and could never have +been elected to office. But he was truthful, +just, and as the English officer reluctantly said +of Lucan, whom he hated, “Yes—damn him—he’s +brave.” The men whom he did not seem +to like in the army and who disliked him +accordingly, were compelled to admit, to themselves +at least, that their reasons were comprised +in the above-recorded, regretable, but +unmistakable fact—he didn’t like them. +Another trait, unpopular, was that he knew +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +when and how to say no. He smoked too much, +perhaps, and talked too little for those who +would use his words as witnesses against him. +He never gambled, he rarely drank, he never +lent nor borrowed. He was a bachelor, yet +would never join a “mess” but kept house himself +and usually had some favored comrade living +with him. He was forty and did not look +thirty-five. He was tall, erect, athletic, hardy +and graceful in build, and his face was one of +the best to be seen in many a line of officers at +parade. His eyes were steel-gray and clear and +penetrating, his features clear-cut, almost +<i>too</i> delicately cut, thought some of the best +friends he had among the men. His hair +was brown, sprinkled liberally with silver; +his mouth, an admirable mouth in every +way, was shaded and half-hidden by a long, +drooping mustache to which, some men thought +and some women said, his tapering white fingers +paid too much attention, but I doubt if a +knowledge of this criticism would have led to +the faintest alteration in the habit. Generally +the expression of Armstrong’s face was grave, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +and, on duty, a trifle stern; and not ten people +in the world were aware what humor could +twinkle in the clear, keen eyes, or twitch about +the corners of that mobile mouth. There were +not five who knew the tenderness that lay in hiding +there, for Armstrong had few living kindred +and they were men. There lived not, as he +drove this glorious August morning to the +breezy uplands beyond the camps, one woman +who could say she had seen those eyes of Armstrong’s +melt and glow with love. As for Amy +Lawrence, she was not dreaming of such a +thing. She was not even looking at him. Her +thoughts at the moment were drifting back to +that usually light-hearted boy who stood gazing +so disconsolately after them as they drove away, +her eyes were intent upon an approaching group +that presently reclaimed her wandering +thoughts. +</p> +<p>Coming up Point Lobos Avenue strode a +party of four—all soldiers. One of these, wild-eyed, +bareheaded, dishevelled, his clothing torn, +his wrists lashed behind him, walked between +two armed guards. The fourth, a sergeant, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +followed at their heels. Miss Lawrence had +just time to note that the downcast face was +dark and oval and refined, when it was suddenly +uplifted at sound of the whirring carriage +wheels. A light of recognition, almost +of terror, flashed across it, and with one bound +the prisoner sprang from between his guards, +dove almost under the noses of the startled +team, and darted through the wide-open doorway +of a corner saloon. He was out of sight +in a second. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +</div> + +<p>The review that morning had drawn a +crowd to the drill grounds that baffled the +efforts of the guards. Carriages from camps +and carriages from town, carts from the suburbs, +equestrians from the parks and pedestrians +from everywhere had gradually encroached +within kicking distance of the heels +of the cavalry escorting the general commanding +the department, and that official noted with +unerring eye that the populace was coming up +on his flanks, so to speak, at the moment when +the etiquette of the service required that he +should be gazing only to his immediate front +and responding to the salutes of the marching +column. Back of him, ranged in long, single +rank, was drawn up what the newspapers unanimously +described as a “brilliant” staff, despite +the fact that all were in sombre campaign uniform +and several had never been so rated +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +before. In their rear, in turn, was the line of +mounted orderlies and farther still the silent +rank of the escorting troop. Sentries had been +posted to keep the throng at proper distance, +but double their force could have accomplished +nothing—the omniscient corporal could not +help them, and after asking one or two stray +officers what they would do about it, the sentries +gave way and the crowd swarmed in. It +was just as the head of the long tramping column +came opposite the reviewing point, and the +brigade commander and his staff, turning out +after saluting, found their allotted station on +the right of the reviewing party completely +taken up by the mass of eager spectators. A +minute or so was required before the trouble +could be remedied, for, just as the officers and +orderlies were endeavoring to induce the populace +to give way—a thing the American always +resists with a gay good humor that is peculiarly +his own—a nervous hack driver on the outskirts +backed his bulky trap with unexpected +force, and penned between it and the wheels of +a newly-arrived and much more presentable +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +equipage a fair equestrian who shrieked with +fright and clung to her pommel as her excited +“mount” lashed out with his heels and made +splinters of the hack’s rearmost spokes and +felloes. Down went the hack on its axle point. +Out sprang a tall officer from the open carriage, +and in a second, it seemed, transferred the panic-stricken +horsewoman from the seismatic saddle +to the safety of his own seat and the ministrations +of the two young women and the gray +haired civilian who were the latest arrivals. +This done, and after one quick glance at the +lady’s helpless escort, a young officer from the +Presidio, he shouldered his way through the +crowd and stood, presently, on its inner edge, +an unperturbed and most interested spectator. +Battalion after battalion, in heavy marching +order, in the dark-blue service dress, with campaign +hats and leggings, with ranks well closed +and long, well-aligned fronts, with accurate +trace of the guides and well-judged distance, the +great regiments came striding down the gentle +slope, conscious, every officer and man, of the +admiration they commanded. Armstrong, himself +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +commander of a fine regiment of volunteers +in another brigade, looked upon them +with a soldier’s eye, and looked approvingly. +Then, as the rearmost company passed the +reviewing point and gentlemen with two stars +on each shoulder extended their congratulations +to the reviewed commander with one, Armstrong +also made his way among the mounted +officers in his calm, deliberate fashion, heedless +of threatening heels and crowding forehands, +until he, too, could say his word of cordial +greeting. He had to wait a few minutes, for +the general officers were grouped and talking +earnestly. He heard a few words and knew +well enough what was meant—that quantities +of stores intended for the soldiers—even dainties +contributed by the Red Cross Society—had been +stolen from time to time and spirited off in the +dead of night, and doubtless sold in town for +the benefit of a pack of unknown scoundrels +enlisted for no better purpose. In his own regiment +his system had been so strict that no loss +was discoverable, but in certain others the deficit +was great. Complaints were loud, and the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +camp commander, stung possibly by comments +from the city, had urged his officers to unusual +effort, and had promised punishment to the +extent of the law on the guilty parties whenever +or wherever found. +</p> +<p>Even as he was exchanging a word with the +brigadier, Armstrong heard the exclamation: +“By Jove—they’ve caught another!” for with +a grim smile of gratification the camp commander +had read and turned over to his adjutant-general +a brief dispatch just handed him +by a mounted orderly who had galloped part. +</p> +<p>“One of <i>your</i> irreproachables, Armstrong,” +said one of the staff, with something half-sneer, +half-taunt as he too read and then passed the +paper to the judge-advocate of the division. +</p> +<p>Armstrong turned with his usual deliberation. +There was ever about him a quiet dignity +of manner that was the delight of his friends +and despair of his foes. +</p> +<p>“What is his name?” he calmly asked. +</p> +<p>“One of those society swells of whom you +have so many,” was the reply. +</p> +<p>“That does not give his name—nor identify +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +him as one of my men,” said Armstrong +coolly. +</p> +<p>“Oh, well, I didn’t say he belonged to your +command,” was the staff officer’s response, +“but one of the kid-glove crowd that’s got into +the ranks.” +</p> +<p>“If you mean the recruits in the —teenth +Infantry, I should be slow to suspect them +of any crime,” said Armstrong, with something +almost like a drawl, so slow and deliberate +was his manner, and now the steel-gray +eyes and the fair, clear-cut face were +turned straight upon the snapping eyes and +dark features of the other. There was no +love lost <i>there</i>. One could tell without so much +as seeing. +</p> +<p>“You’re off, then! That commissary-sergeant +caught one of ’em in the act—he got +wind of it and skipped, and to-day came back +in handcuffs.” +</p> +<p>“All of which may be as you say,” answered +Armstrong, “and still not warrant your reference +to him as one of my irreproachables.” +</p> +<p>By this time much of the crowd and most of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +the vehicles had driven away. The generals +still sat in saddle chatting earnestly together, +while their staff officers listened in some impatience +to the conversation just recorded. Everybody +knew the fault was not Armstrong’s, but +it was jarring to have to sit and hearken to the +controversy. “Don’t ever twit or try funny +business with Armstrong,” once said a regimental +sage. “He has no sense of humor—of +that kind.” Those who best knew him knew +that Armstrong never tolerated unjust accusations, +great or small. In his desire to say an +irritating thing to a man he both envied and +respected, the staff officer had not confined himself +to facts, and it proved a boomerang. +</p> +<p>And now, Armstrong’s eyes had lighted +for an instant on the alleged culprit. Seated +opposite Miss Lawrence as the carriage +whirled across Point Lobos Avenue, and +watching her unobtrusively, he saw the +sudden light of alarm and excitement in +her expressive face, heard the faint exclamation +as her gloved hand grasped the rail of +the seat, felt the quick sway of the vehicle +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +as the horses shied in fright at some object +beyond his vision. Then as they dashed on +he had seen the running guard and, just +vanishing within the portals of the corner +building, the slim figure of the escaping prisoner. +He saw the quivering hands tearing at +their fastenings. He turned to the driver +and bade him stop a minute, but it took fifty +yards of effort before the spirited horses could +be calmed and brought to a halt at the curb. +To the startled inquiries of Mr. Prime and his +daughter as to the cause of the excitement and +the running and shouting he answered simply: +“A prisoner escaped, I think,” and sent a passing +corporal to inquire the result. The man +came back in a minute. +</p> +<p>“They got him easy, sir. He had no show. +His hands were tied behind his back and he +couldn’t climb,” was the brief report. +</p> +<p>“They have not hurt him, I hope,” said +Armstrong. +</p> +<p>“No, sir. He hurt them—one of ’em, at least, +before he’d surrender when they nabbed him in +town. This time he submitted all right—said +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +he only ran in for a glass of beer, and was +laughing-like when I got there.” +</p> +<p>“Very well. That’ll do. Go on, driver. +We haven’t a minute to lose if we are to see +the review,” he continued, as he stepped lightly +to his seat. +</p> +<p>“I saw nothing of this affair,” said Miss +Prime. “What was it all about?” +</p> +<p>“Nor could I see,” added her father. “I +heard shouts and after we passed saw the +guard, but no fugitive.” +</p> +<p>“It is just as well—indeed I’m glad you +didn’t, uncle,” answered Miss Lawrence, turning +even as she spoke and gazing wistfully +back. “He looked so young, and seemed so +desperate, and had such a—I don’t know—<i>hunted</i> +look on his face—poor fellow.” +</p> +<p>And then the carriage reached the entrance +to the reservation and the subject, and the second +object of Miss Lawrence’s sympathies, +evoked that day, were for the time forgotten. +Possibly Mrs. Garrison was partly responsible +for this for, hardly had they rounded the bend +in the road that brought them in full view, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +from the left, or southern flank, of the long line +of masses in which the brigade was formed, +than there came cantering up to them, all gay +good humor, all smiles and saucy coquetry, +their hostess of the evening at the General’s +tent. She was mounted on a sorry-looking +horse, but the “habit” was a triumph of art, +and it well became her slender, rounded figure. +</p> +<p>No one who really analyzed Mrs. Frank Garrison’s +features could say that she was a pretty +woman. No one who looked merely at the general +effect when she was out for conquest could +deny it. Colonel Armstrong, placidly observant +as usual, was quick to note the glances +that shot between the cousins on the rear seat +as the little lady came blithely alongside. He +knew her, and saw that they were beginning to +be as wise as he, for the smiles with which they +greeted her were but wintry reflections of those +that beamed upon her radiant face. Prime, +paterfamilias, bent cordially forward in welcome, +but her quick eyes had recognized the +fourth occupant by this time, and there was a +little less of assurance in her manner from that +instant. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +“How <i>per</i>fectly delicious!” she cried. “I +feared from what you said yesterday you +weren’t coming, and so I never ordered the carriage, +but came out in saddle—I can’t say on +<i>horse</i>back with such a wreck as this, but every +decent horse in the Presidio had to go out with +the generals and staffs, you know, and I had to +take what I could get—both horse and escort,” +she added, in confidential tone. “Oh!—May +I present Mr. Ellis? He knows you all by +name already.” The youth in attendance and +a McClellan tree two sizes too big for him, +lifted his cap and strove to smile; he had ridden +nothing harder than a park hack before that +day. “Frank says I talk of nothing else. But—where’s +Mr. Gray? Surely I thought <i>he</i> would +be with you.” This for Armstrong’s benefit in +case he were in the least interested in either +damsel. +</p> +<p>“Mr. Gray was detained by some duties in +camp,” explained Miss Prime, with just a trace +of reserve that was lost upon neither their new +companion nor the colonel. It settled a matter +the placid officer was revolving in his mind. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p> +<p>“Pardon us, Mrs. Garrison,” he said briefly. +“We must hurry. Go on, driver.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, <i>I</i> can keep up,” was the indomitable +answer, “even on this creature.” And Mrs. +Garrison proved her words by whipping her +steed into a lunging canter and, sitting him +admirably, rode gallantly alongside, and just +where Mr. Prime could not but see and admire +since Colonel Armstrong would not look at all. +He had entered into an explanation of the ceremony +by that time well under way, and Miss +Lawrence’s great soft brown eyes were fixed +upon him attentively when, perhaps, she should +have been gazing at the maneuvers. Like those +latter, possibly, her thoughts were “changing +direction.” +</p> +<p>Not ten minutes later occurred the collision +between the hack and the heels that +resulted in the demolition of one and “demoralization” +of the rider of the victor. While the +latter was led away by the obedient Mr. Ellis +lest the sight of him should bring on another +nervous attack, Mrs. Garrison was suffering +herself to be comforted. Her nerves were gone, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +but she had not lost her head. Lots of Presidio +dames and damsels were up on the heights that +day in such vehicles as the post afforded. None +appeared in anything so stylish and elegant as +the carriage of the Prime party. She was a +new and comparative stranger there, and it +would vastly enhance her social <i>prestige</i>, she +argued, to be seen in such “swell” surroundings. +With a little tact and management she +might even arrange matters so that, willy nilly, +her friends would drive her home instead of +taking Colonel Armstrong back to camp. That +would be a stroke worth playing. She owed +Stanley Armstrong a bitter grudge, and had +nursed it long. She had known him ten years +and hated him nine of them. Where they met +and when it really matters not. In the army +people meet and part in a hundred places when +they never expected to meet again. She had +married Frank Garrison in a hand gallop, said +the garrison chronicles, “before she had known +him two months,” said the men, “before he +knew her at all,” said the women. She was +four years his senior, if the chaplain could be +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +believed and five months his junior if <i>she</i> +could. Whatever might have been the discrepancy +in their ages at the time of the ceremony +no one would suspect the truth who saw them +now. It was he who looked aged and careworn +and harassed, and she who preserved her +youthful bloom and vivacity. +</p> +<p>And now, as she reclined as though still too +weak and shaken to leave the carriage and +return to saddle, her quick wits were planning +the scheme that should result in <i>her</i> retaining, +and his losing the coveted seat. There was little +time to lose. Most of the crowd had scattered, +and she well knew that he was only waiting +for her to leave before he would return. +Almost at the instant her opportunity came. +A covered wagon reined suddenly alongside +and kind and sympathetic voices hailed her: +“Do let us drive you home, Mrs. Garrison; you +must have been terribly shaken.” She recognized +at once the wife and daughter of a prominent +officer of the post. +</p> +<p>“Oh, how kind you are!” she cried. “I was +hoping some one would come. Indeed, I <i>did</i> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +get a little wrench.” And then, as she moved, +with a sudden gasp of pain, she clasped Miss +Lawrence’s extended hand. +</p> +<p>“Indeed, you must not stir, Mrs. Garrison,” +said that young lady. “We will drive +you home at once.” Miss Prime and her father +were adding their pleas. She looked up, smiling +faintly. +</p> +<p>“I fear I must trouble you,” she faltered. +“Oh, how stupid of me! But about Stanley +Armstrong—I haven’t even thanked him. Ah, +well—<i>he</i> knows. We’ve been—such good +friends for years—dear old fellow!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> +</div> + +<p>There had been a morning of jubilee in the +camp of the Fifth Separate Brigade, and a row +in the tents of the regulars. Up to within a +fortnight such a state of affairs would have +been considered abnormal, for the papers would +have it that the former were on the verge of +dissolution through plague, pestilence and famine +due to the neglect of officials vaguely +referred to as “the military authorities,” or +“the staff,” while, up to the coming of Canker +to command, sweet accord had reigned in the +regular brigade, and the volunteers looked on +with envy. But now a great martial magnate +had praised the stalwart citizen soldiery whom +he had passed in review early in the day, and +set them to shouting by the announcement that, +as reward for their hard work and assiduous +drill, they should have their heart’s desire and +be shipped across the seas to far Manila. It +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +had all been settled beforehand at headquarters. +The “chief” had known for four days +that that particular command would be selected +for the next expedition, but it tickled “the +boys” to have it put that way, and the home +papers would make so much of it. So there +was singing and triumph and rejoicing all +along the eastern verge of a rocky, roughly +paved cross street, and rank blasphemy across +the way. To the scandal and sorrow of the —teenth +Infantry some of the recent robberies +had been traced to their very doors. A commissary-sergeant +had “weakened,” a cartman +had “squealed,” and one of the most popular and +attractive young soldiers in the whole command +was now a prisoner in the guardhouse charged +with criminal knowledge of the whole affair, +and of being a large recipient of the ill-gotten +money—Morton of the adjutant’s office, a private +in Company “K.” +</p> +<p>What made it worse was the allegation that +several others, noncommissioned officers and +“special duty men,” were mixed up in the matter, +and Canker had rasped the whole commissioned +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +force present for duty, in his lecture upon +the subject, and had almost intimated that officers +were conniving at the concealment of the +guilt of their sergeants rather than have it leak +out that the felony was committed in a company +of their commanding. +</p> +<p>He and Gordon had had what was described +as a “red-hot” row, all because Gordon flatly +declared that while <i>something</i> was queer about +the case of the young clerk who “had money +to burn,” as the men said, he’d bet his bottom +dollar he wasn’t a thief. Canker said such +language was a reflection on himself, as he had +personally investigated the case, was convinced +Morton’s guilt could be established, and had so +reported to the brigade commander in recommending +trial by general court-martial. Indeed +he had made out a case against the lad even +before he was arrested and returned to camp. +Gordon asked if he had seen the boy and heard +his story. Canker reddened and said he hadn’t, +and he didn’t mean to and didn’t have to. Gordon +said <i>he</i> had—he had talked with the lad +fully and freely on his being brought to camp +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +toward nine o’clock, and was greatly impressed +with his story—as would any one else be who +heard it. Canker reddened still more and said +he wouldn’t allow officers to interview prisoners +without his authority. “I’ll prefer charges +against the next that does it,” said he. +</p> +<p>And not three hours later, Mr. Billy Gray, +sprawling on his camp cot, striving to forget +the sorrow of the earlier morning, and to memorize +a page of paragraphs of army regulations, +was suddenly accosted by an orderly who stood +at the front of the tent, scratching at the tent +flap—the camp substitute for a ring at the bell. +</p> +<p>“A note for the lieutenant,” said he, darting +in and then darting out, possibly fearful of +question. It was a queer note: +</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“I am a total stranger to you, but I wore in +brighter days the badge of the same society +that was yours at the university. Three of the +fraternity are in my company—one is on guard +and he urged me to write at once to you. They +know me to be a Brother Delt, even though I +dare not tell my real name. What I have to +say is that the charge against me is utterly +false, as I can convince you, but could not convince +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +a court. I am confined at the moment of +all others in my life when it is most vitally +important that I should be free. Grant me ten +minutes’ interview this afternoon and if I do +not prove myself guiltless I will ask no favor—but +when I <i>do</i> convince you, do as you would +be done by. +</p> +<p style='text-align:right'>Yours in <i>Λ Σ Χ</i>,<br /> +<span style='font-variant:small-caps;'>“George Morton.</span>”</p> + +</div> +<p>“Well, I’ll be blessed!” said Mr. Gray, as he +rolled out of his gray blanket. “Here’s a +state of things! Listen to this, captain,” he +called to his company commander in the adjoining +tent. “Here’s Morton, back from forty-eight +hours’ absence without leave, brought +back by armed guard after sharp resistance, +charged with Lord knows what all, wants to +tell me his story and prove his innocence.” +</p> +<p>“You let him alone,” growled his senior. +“Remember what Canker said, or you’ll go in +arrest. What call has Morton on you, I’d like +to know?” +</p> +<p>The lad flushed. Fraternity was a very +sacred thing in the +<i>&#923;&nbsp;&#931;&nbsp;&#935;</i>. +It was “the most exclusive crowd at the ’Varsity.” Its membership +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +was pledged to one another by unusual +ties. It was the hardest society for a fellow to +get into in any one of the seven colleges whereat +it flourished, and its mystic bonds were not +shaken off with the silken gown and “mortar +board” of undergraduate days, but followed its +membership through many a maturer year. It +was a society most college men might ask to +join in vain. Money, social station, influence +were powerless. Not until a student had been +under observation two whole years and was +<i>thoroughly</i> known could he hope for a “bid” to +become a “Delta Sig.” Not until another six +months of probation could he sport its colors, +and not until he formally withdrew from its +fold, in post graduation years, could he consider +himself absolved from its mild obligations. But +the boast of the “Delta Sig” had ever been +that no one of its membership had ever turned +a deaf ear to a fellow in need of aid. Who of +its originators ever dreamed of such a thing as +its drifting into and becoming a factor in the +affairs of the regular army? +</p> +<p>No wonder Gray stood for a moment, the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +paper still in his hands, irresolute, even disturbed. +Not to answer the appeal meant to +run counter to all the tenets of his fraternity. +To answer might mean arrest and court-martial +for deliberate disobedience of orders. Canker +had no more mercy than an Indian. It was +barely forty-eight hours since he had been publicly +warned by an experienced old captain that +he would find no “guardian angel” in Squeers. +It would seriously mar his prospects to start +now with Squeers “down on him,” and as that +lynx-eyed commander was ever on watch for +infractions of orders, Billy well knew that he +could not hope to see and talk with the prisoner +and Canker not hear of it. To ask permission +of Canker would only make matters worse—he +was sure to refuse and then re-emphasize his +orders and redouble his vigilance. To ask the +consent of the officer-of the-day or the connivance +of the officer-of-the-guard was to invite +them to court arrest and trial on their own +account. He couldn’t do that even to oblige a +brother Delt. If only Ned Craven were officer-of-the-guard +something might be done—he was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +a college man, too, and though not a “Delt,” +but rather of a rival set, he “would understand” +and possibly help. Guard mount was +held toward dusk and that was four hours +away, at least. The prisoner’s note and tone +were urgent. An idea occurred to Billy: What +if he could get Gordon to let <i>him</i> “go on” this +very evening? It wasn’t his tour. He had +“marched off” only two days before as he well +remembered, for Canker had “roughed” him up +and down about that little error in copying the +list of prisoners from the report of the previous +day. Moreover, he had counted on going to +town right after “retreat,” dining at the Palace, +an extravagance not to be thought of at +other times, so as to be on hand when the +Primes and Amy Lawrence came down to dinner. +He had planned it all—even to the amount +of surprise he was to exhibit when he should +discover about when he had finished his own +dinner that they were just beginning theirs, +and the extent and degree of pleasurable emotion +he might venture on showing as he hastened +over to greet them, and accept their offer +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +to be seated with them, even if he had been so +unkind as to dine beforehand <i>solus</i> instead of +with them. He had set his heart on having a chat +with Miss Lawrence as part recompense for all +he had lost that morning, and all this he was +thinking of while still fumbling over that disturbing +note. Time was getting short, too; +there was no telling how much longer they +might stay. Mr. Prime had brought his only +daughter all that long journey across the continent +on the assurance that the boy he loved, +with whom he had quarreled, and whom, in +his anger, he had sorely rebuked, had enlisted +there in San Francisco and was serving in a +regiment at the great camp west of the city. +He had come full of hope and confidence; he +had found the young soldier described, and, in +his bitter disappointment, he declared there was +no resemblance to justify the report sent him +by the boy’s own uncle, who vowed he had met +him with comrades on the main street of the +city, that the recognition was mutual, for the +boy had darted around the first corner and +escaped. His companions were scattered by +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +the time Mr. Lawrence returned to the spot +after a brief, fruitless search, but private detectives +had taken it up and “located,” as they +thought, young Prime and telegraphed the +father in the distant East. +</p> +<p>Now, Mr. Lawrence was away on business +of his own. Written assurances that he couldn’t +be mistaken lost weight, and Mr. Prime, disheartened, +was merely waiting the report of an +agent who thought he had traced the boy to +Tampa. In twenty-four hours he might spirit +his daughter away on another chase, and then +there would be no further warrant for Miss +Lawrence’s remaining in the city. She would +return to her lovely home in one of the loveliest +of Californian valleys, miles away from the +raw fogs and chills of the Golden Gate, and +would be no more seen among the camps. +That, said Billy Gray to himself, would take +every bit of sunshine from his life. +</p> +<p>All this detail, or much of it, he had learned +from the fair lips of Miss Lawrence herself, for +Mr. Prime and his daughter seemed to shrink +from speaking of the matter. From the first +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +Miss Amy had had to take the young gentleman +under her personal wing, as it were. In +her desire to aid her uncle and cousin in every +way, and knowing them to be strangers to the +entire camp, she had eagerly sent for him as +the first familiar or friendly object she saw. +Then when he came and was presented, and +proved to possess little interest to the careworn +man and his anxious and devoted child, it +devolved upon Miss Lawrence to make much +of Billy in proportion as they made little of +him, and for three days or so the blithe young +fellow seemed fairly to walk on air. Moreover, +she had taken him into the family confidences +in telling him of the missing son and brother, +for both her uncle and cousin, she said, were +so sensitive about it they could not talk to any +one except when actually necessary. They had +leaned, as it were, on the General and on Colonel +Armstrong for a day, and then seemed to +draw away from both. They even seemed to +take it much amiss that her father <i>had</i> to be +absent when they came, though they had sent +no word, until too late, of their coming. He +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +was on his return, might arrive any hour, but +so might they go. Now if Billy could only discover +that missing son—— +</p> +<p>Then came an inspiration! Penciling a brief +note he gave it to a soldier of his company and +bade him take it to the guard tents. It told +Morton of the colonel’s orders, issued that very +day, and bade him be patient—he hoped and +believed opportunity would be afforded for an +interview that evening. Then he hunted up a +subaltern of his own grade whom he knew +would probably be the detail for officer-of-the-guard +that evening. “Brooke,” said he, “will +you swap tours with me if Gordon’s willing. +I have—I’d like mightily to exchange if it’s all +the same to you.” +</p> +<p>Brooke hesitated. He had social hopes and +aspirations of his own. By “swapping” with +Gray he might find himself doomed to a night +in camp when he had accepted for some pleasant +function in town. +</p> +<p>“Thought you were keen to go in to-night—right +after retreat,” he hazarded. +</p> +<p>“Well, I was,” said Gray, pulling his drab +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +campaign hat down over his eyes to shut out +the glare of the westering sun. “But I’ve got—a +new wrinkle.” +</p> +<p>“Some bid for Friday? That’s your tour, +isn’t it?” And Brooke began counting on his +fingers. “Wait till I look at my notebook. +Friday? Why, that’s the night of the Burton’s +card party—thought you didn’t know +them.” +</p> +<p>“I don’t,” said Gray, glad enough to escape +the other question. “And you hate card parties, +you know you do. It’s a go, is it? I’ll see +Gordon at once.” And off he went, leaving +Brooke to wonder why he should be so bent on +the arrangement. +</p> +<p>But Gordon proved an unexpected foe to the +plan. “Can’t be done, Billy,” said he, sententiously. +“Canker watches those details like a +hawk. He hasn’t forgotten you only came off +two days ago, and if I were to mount you +to-night he’d mount <i>me</i>—with both feet.” +</p> +<p>“Think there’s any use in asking him?” +queried the boy, tossing a backward glance +toward Canker’s tent. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +“Not unless you’re suffering for another +snub. That man loves to say ‘no’ as much as +any girl I ever asked, and he doesn’t do it to +be coaxed, either. Best leave it alone, Billy.” +</p> +<p>And then the unexpected happened. Into +the tent with quick, impetuous step, came the +commanding officer himself, and something had +occurred to stir that gentleman to the core. His +eyes were snapping, and his head was high. +</p> +<p>“Mr. Gordon,” said he, “here’s more of this +pilfering business, and now they’re beginning +to find out it isn’t <i>all</i> in my camp by a damned +sight. I want that letter copied at once.” Then +with a glance at Gray, who had whipped off his +cap and was standing in respectful attitude, he +changed his tone from the querulous, half-treble +of complaint. “What’s this you’d best leave +alone?” he suddenly demanded. “There are +a dozen things you’d best leave alone and a +dozen you would do well to cultivate and +study. When I was—however, I never was a +lieutenant except in war-time, when they +amounted to something. I got my professional +knowledge in front of the enemy—not at any +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +damned charity school. You’re here to ask +some new indulgence, I suppose. Want to +stay in town over night and fritter away your +money and the time the government pays for. +No, sir; you can’t have my consent. You will +be back in camp at twelve o’clock, and stop +and report your return to the officer-of-the-guard, +so that I may know the hour you come +in. Who’s officer-of-the-guard to-night, Mr. +Gordon?” +</p> +<p>“Mr. Brooke, sir.” +</p> +<p>“Mr. Brooke! Why, I thought I told you +he was to take those prisoners in town to-morrow. +He has to testify before that court in the +case of Sergeant Kelly and it saves my sending +another officer and having two of our lieutenants +away from drill and hanging around the +Bohemian Club. Detail somebody else!” +</p> +<p>“All right, sir,” answered Gordon imperturbably. +“Make any odds, sir, who is detailed?” +</p> +<p>Canker had turned to his desk and was tossing +over the papers with nervous hand. Gray +impulsively stepped forward, his eyes kindling +with hope. It was on the tip of his tongue to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +launch into a proffer of his own services for the +detail, but Gordon hastily warned him back +with a sweep of the hand and a portentous +scowl. +</p> +<p>“No. One’s as bad as the other. Next +thing <i>I</i> know some of ’em will be letting prisoners +escape right under my nose, making us +the laughing stock of these damned militia volunteers.” +(Canker entered service in ’61 as a +private in a city company that was militia to +the tip of its spike-tailed coats, but he had forgotten +it.) “I want these young idlers to +understand distinctly, by George, that the first +prisoner that gets away from this post takes +somebody’s commission with him. D’you hear +<i>that</i>, Mr. Gray?” And Canker turned and +glared at the bright blue eyes as though he +would like to blast their clear fires with the +breath of his disapprobation. “Has that young +fellow, Morton, been put in irons yet?” he suddenly +asked, whirling on Gordon again. +</p> +<p>“Think not, sir. Supplies limited. Officer-of-the-day +reported half an hour ago every set +was in use. Sent over to division quartermaster +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +and he answered we had a dozen more’n we +were entitled to <i>now</i>. Wanted to know ’f we +meant to iron the whole regiment——” +</p> +<p>“The hell he did!” raged Canker. “I’ll settle +<i>that</i> in short order. My horse there, orderly! +I’ll be back by four, Mr. Gordon. Fix that +detail to suit yourself.” And so saying the +irascible colonel flung himself out of the tent +and into his saddle. +</p> +<p>“You young idiot,” said Gordon, whirling +on Billy the moment the coast was clear. +“You came within an ace of ruining the whole +thing. <i>Never</i> ask Canker for anything, unless +it’s what you wish to be rid of. Tell Brooke +you’re for guard, and he’s to go to town +instead.” +</p> +<p>“Hopping mad,” as he himself afterward +expressed it, Colonel Canker had ridden over +to “have it out” with the quartermaster who +had ventured to comment on his methods, but +the sight of the commanding general, standing +alone at the entrance to his private tent, his +pale face grayer than ever and a world of +trouble in his eyes, compelled Canker to stop +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +short. Two or three orderlies were on the run. +Two aides-de-camp, Mr. Garrison and a comrade +were searching through desks and +boxes, their faces grave and concerned. The +regimental commander was off his horse in a +second. “Anything amiss, General?” he asked, +with soldierly salute. +</p> +<p>The General turned slowly toward him. +“Can our men sell letters,” he said, “as +well as food and forage? Do people <i>buy</i> such +things? A most important package has been—stolen +from my tent.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +</div> + +<p>The great thoroughfare of that wonderful +city, seated on more than her seven hills, and +ruling the Western world, was thronged from +curb to curb. Gay with bunting and streamers, +the tall buildings of the rival newspapers +and the long <i>façades</i> of hotels and business +blocks were gayer still with the life and color +and enthusiasm that crowded every window. +Street traffic was blocked. Cable cars clanged +vainly and the police strove valiantly. It was +a day given up to but one duty and one purpose, +that of giving Godspeed to the soldiery ordered +for service in the distant Philippines, and, +though they hailed from almost every section +of the Union except the Pacific slope, as though +they were her own children, with all the hope +and faith and pride and patriotism, with all the +blessings and comforts with which she had +loaded the foremost ships that sailed, yet happily +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +without the tears that flowed when her +own gallant regiment was among the first to +lead the way San Francisco turned out <i>en +masse</i> to cheer the men from far beyond the +Sierras and the Rockies, and to see them +proudly through the Golden Gate. Early +in the day the guns of a famous light battery +had been trundled, decked like some +rose-covered chariot at the summer festival +of flowers, through the winding lanes of +eager forms and faces, the cannoneers almost +dragged from the ranks by the clasping hands +of men and women who seemed powerless to +let go. With their little brown carbines tossed +jauntily over the broad blue shoulders, half a +regiment of regular cavalry, dismounted, had +gone trudging down to the docks, cheered to +the gateway of the pier by thousands of citizens +who seemed to envy the very recruits who, +only half-uniformed and drilled, brought up +the rear of the column. Once within the massive +wooden portals, the guards and sentries +holding back the importunate crowd, the soldiers +flung aside their heavy packs, and were marshalled +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +before an array of tempting tables and +there feasted, comforted and rejoiced under the +ministrations of that marvelous successor of the +Sanitary Commission of the great Civil War of +the sixties—the noble order of the Red Cross. +There at those tables in the dust and din of the +bustling piers, in the soot and heat of the railway +station, in the jam and turmoil at the +ferry houses, in the fog and chill of the seaward +camps, in the fever-haunted wards of crowded +field hospitals, from dawn till dark, from dark +till dawn, toiled week after week devoted +women in every grade of life, the wife of the +millionaire, the daughter of the day laborer, +the gently born, the delicately reared, the social +pets and darlings, the humble seamstress, no +one too high to stoop to aid the departing soldier, +none too poor or low to deny him cheer +and sympathy. The war was still young then. +Spain had not lowered her riddled standard and +sued for peace. Two great fleets had been +swept from the seas, the guns of Santiago were +silenced, and the stronghold of the Orient was +sulking in the shadow of the flag, but there was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +still soldier work to be done, and so long as the +nation sent its fighting men through her broad +and beautiful gates San Francisco and the Red +Cross stood by with eager, lavish hands to heap +upon the warrior sons of a score of other States, +even as upon their own, every cheer and comfort +that wealth could purchase, or human sympathy +devise. It was the one feature of the +war days of ’98 that will never be forgotten. +</p> +<p>At one of the flower-decked tables near the +great “stage” that led to the main deck of the +transport, a group of blithe young matrons and +pretty girls had been busily serving fruit, coffee, +<i>bouillon</i> and substantials to the troopers, +man after man, for over two hours. There +was lively chat and merry war of words going +on at the moment between half a dozen young +officers who had had their eyes on that particular +table ever since the coming of the command, +and were now making the most of their +opportunities before the trumpets should sound +the assembly and the word be passed to move +aboard. All the heavy baggage and ammunition +had, at last, been swung into the hold; +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +the guns of the battery had been lowered and +securely chocked; the forecastle head was +thronged with the red-trimmed uniforms of the +artillerymen, who had already been embarked +and were now jealously clamoring that the +troopers should be “shut off” from the further +ministrations of the Red Cross, and broadly +intimating that it wasn’t a fair deal that their +rivals should be allowed a whole additional +hour of lingering farewells. +</p> +<p>Lingering farewells there certainly were. +Many a young soldier and many a lass “paired +off” in little nooks and corners among the +stacks of bales and boxes, but at the table nearest +the staging all seemed gay good humor. +A merry little woman with straw-colored hair +and pert, tip-tilted nose and much vivacity and +complexion, had apparently taken the lead in +the warfare of chaff and fun. Evidently she +was no stranger to most of the officers. Almost +as evidently, to a very close observer who stood +a few paces away, she was no intimate of the +group of women who with good right regarded +that table as their especial and personal charge. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +Her Red Cross badge was very new; her garb +and gloves were just as fresh and spotless. <i>She</i> +had not been ladling out milk and cream, or +buttering sandwiches, or pinning souvenirs on +dusty blue blouses ever since early morning. +Other faces there showed through all their +smiles and sweetness the traces of long days +of unaccustomed work and short nights of +troubled sleep. Marvelous were Mrs. Frank +Garrison’s recuperative powers, thought they +who saw her brought home in the Primes’ stylish +carriage, weak and helpless and shaken +after her adventure of the previous day. She +had not been at the Presidio a week, and yet +she pervaded it. She had never thought of +such a thing as the Red Cross until she found +it the center of the social firmament after her +arrival at San Francisco, and here she was, the +last comer, the foremost (“most forward” I +<i>think</i> some one described it) in their circle at +one of the most prominent tables, absorbing +much of the attention, most of the glory, and +none of the fatigue that should have been +equally shared by all. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p> +<p>“<i>Adios</i>!” she gayly cried as the “assembly” +rang out, loud and clear, and waving their +hands and raising their caps, the officers hastened +to join their commands. “<i>Adios</i>, till we +meet in Manila.” +</p> +<p>“Do you <i>really</i> think of going to the Philippines, +Mrs. Garrison?” queried a much older-looking, +yet younger woman. “Why, <i>we</i> were +told the General said that none of his staff +would be allowed to take their wives.” +</p> +<p>“Yet there are others!” laughed Mrs. Garrison, +waving a dainty handkerchief toward the +troops now breaking into column of twos and +slowly climbing the stage. “Who would <i>want</i> +to go with that blessed old undertaker? Good-by—<i>bon +voyage</i>, Geordie,” she cried, blowing +a kiss to the lieutenant at the head of the second +troop, a youth who blushed and looked confused +at the attention thereby centered upon +him, and who would fain have shaken his fist, +rather than waved the one unoccupied hand in +perfunctory reply. “When <i>I</i> go I’ll choose a +ship with a band and broad decks, not any such +cramped old canal boat as the Portland.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></p> +<p>“Oh! I thought perhaps your husband—” began +the lady dubiously, but with a significant +glance at the silent faces about her. +</p> +<p>“Who? Frank Garrison? Heavens! I +haven’t known what it was to have a husband—since +that poor dear boy went on staff duty,” +promptly answered the diminutive center of +attraction, a merry peal of laughter ringing +under the dingy archway of the long, long +roof. “Why, the Portland has only one stateroom +in it big enough for a bandbox, and of +course the General has to have that, and there +isn’t a deck where one couple could turn a slow +waltz. No, indeed! wait for the next flotilla, +when <i>our</i> fellows go, bands and all. <i>Then</i> +we’ll see.” +</p> +<p>“But surely, Mrs. Garrison, we are told the +War Department has positively forbidden officers’ +wives from going on the transports”—again +began her interrogator, a wistful look in +her tired eyes. “I know I’d give <i>anything</i> +to join Mr. Dutton.” +</p> +<p>“The War Department has to take orders +quite as often as it gives them, Mrs. Dutton. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +The thing is to know how to be of the order-giving +side. Oh, joy!” she suddenly cried. +“Here are the Primes and Amy Lawrence—then +the regiments must be coming! And +there’s Stanley Armstrong!” +</p> +<p>Far up the westward street the distant roar +of voices mingled with the swing and rhythm +and crash of martial music. Dock policemen +and soldiers on guard began boring a wide lane +through the throng of people on the pier. A +huge black transport ship lay moored along the +opposite side to that on which the guns and +troopers were embarked, and for hours bales, +boxes and barrels had been swallowed up and +stored in her capacious depths until now, over +against the tables of the Red Cross, there lay +behind a rope barrier, taut stretched and guarded +by a line of sentries, an open space close under +the side of the greater steamer and between the +two landing stages, placed fore and aft. By +this time the north side of the broad pier was +littered with the inevitable relics of open air +lunching, and though busy hands had been at +work and the tables had been cleared, and fresh +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +white cloths were spread and everything <i>on</i> the +tables began again to look fair and inviting, +the good fairies themselves looked askance at +their bestrewn surroundings. “Oh, if we could +only move everything bodily over to the other +side,” wailed Madam President, as from her +perch on a stack of Red Cross boxes she surveyed +that coveted stretch of clean, unhampered +flooring. +</p> +<p>“And why not?” chirruped Mrs. Garrison, +from a similar perch, a tier or two higher. +“Here are men enough to move mountains. +All we have to do is to say the word.” +</p> +<p>“Ah, but it isn’t,” replied the other, gazing +wistfully about over the throng of faces, as +though in search of some one sufficient in rank +and authority to serve her purpose. “We plead +in vain with the officer-of-the-guard. He says +his orders are imperative—to allow no one to +intrude on that space,” and madam looked as +though she would rather look anywhere than at +the animated sprite above her. +</p> +<p>“What nonsense!” shrilled Mrs. Garrison. +“Here, Cherry,” she called to a pretty girl, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +standing near the base of the pile, “give me my +bag. I’m army woman enough to know that +order referred only to the street crowd that +sometimes works in on the pier and steals.” +The bag was duly passed up to her. She cast +one swift glance over the heads of the crowd to +where a handsome carriage was slowly working +its way among the groups of prettily +dressed women and children—friends and relatives +of members of the departing commands, +in whose behalf, as though by special dispensation, +the order excluding all but soldiers and +the Red Cross had been modified. Already the +lovely dark-eyed girl on the near side had +waved her hand in greeting, responding to +Mrs. Garrison’s enthusiastic signals, but her +companion, equally lovely, though of far different +type, seemed preoccupied, perhaps unwilling +to see, for her large, dark, thoughtful eyes +were engaged with some object on the opposite +side—not even with the distinguished looking +soldier who sat facing her and talking quietly +at the moment with Mr. Prime. There was a +gleam of triumph in Mrs. Garrison’s dancing +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +eyes as she took out a flat notebook and pencil +and dashed off a few lines in bold and vigorous +strokes. Tearing out the page, she rapidly read +it over, folded it and glanced imperiously about +her. A cavalry sergeant, one of the home troop +destined to remain at the Presidio, was leaning +over the edge of the pier, hanging on to an iron +ring and shouting some parting words to comrades +on the upper deck, but her shrill soprano +cut through the dull roar of deep, masculine +voices and the tramp of feet on resounding +woodwork. +</p> +<p>“Sergeant!” she cried, with quick decision. +“Take this over to the officer in command of +that guard. Then bring a dozen men and move +these two tables across the pier.” The cavalryman +glanced at the saucy little woman in the +stunning costume, “took in” the gold crossed +sabres, topped by a regimental number in brilliants +that pinned her martial collar at the +round, white throat, noted the ribbon and pin +and badge of the Red Cross, and the symbol of +the Eighth Corps in red enamel and gold upon +the breast of her jacket, and above all the ring +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +of accustomed authority in her tone, and never +hesitated a second. Springing to the pile of +boxes he grasped the paper; respectfully raised +his cap, and bored his stalwart way across the +pier. In three minutes he was back—half a +dozen soldiers at his heels. +</p> +<p>“Where’ll you have ’em, ma’am—miss?” he +asked, as the men grasped the supports and +raised the nearmost table. +</p> +<p>“Straight across and well over to the edge,” +she answered, in the same crisp tones of command. +Then, with total and instant change of +manner, “I suppose <i>your</i> tables should go first, +Madam President,” she smilingly said. “It +shall be as you wish about the others.” +</p> +<p>And the Red Cross was vanquished. +</p> +<p>“I declare,” said an energetic official, a +moment later, leaning back on her throne of +lemon boxes, and fanning herself vigorously, +“for a whole hour I’ve been trying to move +that officer’s heart and convince him the order +didn’t apply to us. Now how did—she—do it?” +</p> +<p>“The officer must be some old—some personal +friend,” hazarded the secretary, with a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +quick feminine comprehensive glance at the +little lady now being lifted up to shake hands +with the carriage folk, after being loaded with +compliments and congratulations by the ladies +of the two favored tables. +</p> +<p>“Not at all,” was the prompt reply. “He is +a volunteer officer she never set eyes on before +to-day. I <i>would</i> like to know what was on that +paper.” +</p> +<p>But now the roar of cheering and the blare +of martial music had reached the very gateway. +The broad portals were thrown open and +in blue and brown, crushed and squeezed by the +attendant throng, the head of the column of +infantry came striding on to the pier. The +band, wheeling to one side, stood at the entrance, +playing them in, the rafters ringing to +the stirring strains of “The Liberty Bell.” +They were still far down the long pier, the +sloping rifles just visible, dancing over the +heads of the crowd. No time was to be lost. +More tables were to be carried, but—who but +that—“that little army woman” could give the +order so that it would be obeyed. Not one bit +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +did the president like to do it, but something +had to be done to obtain the necessary order, +for the soldiers who so willingly and promptly +obeyed her beck and call were now edging +away for a look at the newcomers, and Mrs. +Frank Garrison, perched on the carriage step +and chatting most vivaciously with its occupants +and no longer concerning herself, apparently, +about the Red Cross or its tables, had +the gratification of finding herself approached, +quite as she had planned, by two most prominent +and distinguished women of San Francisco +society, and requested to issue instructions +as to the moving of the other tables. +“Certainly, ladies,” she responded, with charming +smiles. “Just <i>one</i> minute, Mildred. Don’t +drive farther yet,” and within that minute half +a dozen boys in blue were lugging at the first +of the tables still left on the crowded side of +the dock, and others still were bearing oil stoves, +urns and trays. In less time than it takes to +tell it the entire Red Cross equipage was on its +way across the pier, and when the commanding +officer of the arriving regiment reached the spot +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +which he had planned to occupy with his band, +his staff and all his officers, there in state and +ceremony to receive the citizens who came in +swarms to bid them farewell, he found it occupied +by as many as eight snowy, goody-laden +tables, presided over by as many as eighty +charming maids and matrons, all ready and +eager to comfort and revive the inner man of +his mighty regiment with coffee and good cheer +illimitable, and the colonel swore a mighty oath +and pounced on his luckless officer-of-the-guard. +He had served as a subaltern many a year in +the old army, and knew how it was done. +</p> +<p>“Didn’t I give you personal and positive +orders not to let anything or anybody occupy +this space after the baggage was got aboard, +sir?” he demanded. +</p> +<p>“You did, sir,” said the unabashed lieutenant, +pulling a folded paper from his belt, “and +the Red Cross got word to the general and +what the Red Cross says—<i>goes</i>. Look at +that!” +</p> +<p>The colonel looked, read, looked dazed, +scratched his head and said: “Well, I’m +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +damned!” Then he turned to his adjutant. +“You were with me when I saw the general +last night and he told me to put this guard on +and keep this space clear. Now, what d’you +say to that?” +</p> +<p>The adjutant glanced over the penciled lines. +“Well,” said he, “if you s’pose any order +that discriminates against the Red Cross is +going to hold good, once they find it out, you’re +bound to get left. They’re feasting the first +company now, sir; shall I have it stopped?” +and there was a grin under the young soldier’s +mustache. The colonel paused one moment, +shook his head and concluded he, too, would +better grin and bear it. Taking the paper in +his hand again he heard his name called and +saw smiling faces and beckoning hands in an +open carriage near him, but the sight of Stanley +Armstrong, signalling to him from another, +farther away, had something dominant about +it. “With you in a minute,” he called to those +who first had summoned him. “What is it, +Armstrong?” +</p> +<p>“I wish to present you to some friends of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +mine—Miss Lawrence—Miss Prime—Mr. +Prime—my old associate, Colonel Stewart. +Pardon me, Mrs. Garrison. I did not see you +had returned.” She had, and was once more +perched upon the step. “Mrs. Garrison—Colonel +Stewart. What we need to know, Stewart, +is this: Will all your men board the ship by +this stage, or will some go aft?” +</p> +<p>“All by <i>this</i> stage—why?” +</p> +<p>But the colonel felt a somewhat massive hand +crushing down on his own and forebore to press +the question. Armstrong let no pause ensue. +He spoke, rapidly for him, bending forward, +too, and speaking low; but even as she chatted +and laughed, the little woman on the carriage +step saw, even though she did not seem to look, +heard, even though she did not seem to listen: +</p> +<p>“An awkward thing has happened. The +General’s tent was robbed of important papers +perhaps two days ago, and the guardhouse rid +of a most important prisoner last night. Canker +has put the officer-of-the-guard in arrest. Remember +good old Billy Gray who commanded +us at Apache? This is Billy Junior, and I’m +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +awful sorry.” Here the soft gray eyes glanced +quickly at the anxious face of Miss Lawrence, +who sat silently feigning interest in the chat +between the others. The anxious look in her +eyes increased at Armstrong’s next words: +“The prisoner must have had friends. He +is now said to be among your men, disguised, +and those two fellows at the stage are detectives. +I thought all that space was to be kept +clear.” +</p> +<p>“It was,” answered Stewart, “yet the chief +must have been overpersuaded. Look here!” +and the colonel held forth a scrap of paper. +Amy Lawrence, hearing something like the +gasp of a sufferer in sudden pain, turned +quickly and saw that every vestige of color had +left Mrs. Garrison’s face—that she was almost +reeling on the step. Before she could call attention +to it, Armstrong, who had taken and +glanced curiously at the scrap, whirled suddenly, +and his eyes, in stern menace, swept the +spot where the little lady clung but an instant +before. As suddenly Mrs. Garrison had sprung +from the step and vanished. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Billy Gray was indeed in close arrest and +the grim prophecy was fulfilled—Colonel Canker +was proving “anything but a guardian angel +to him.” The whole regiment, officers and +men, barring only the commander, was practically +in mourning with sorrow for him and +chagrin over its own discomfiture. Not only +one important prisoner was gone, but two; not +only two, but four. No man in authority was +able to say just when or how it happened, for +it was Canker’s own order that the prisoners +should not be paraded when the guard fell in at +night. They were there at tattoo and at taps “all +secure.” The officer of the guard, said several +soldiers, had quite a long talk with one of the +prisoners—young Morton—just after tattoo, at +which time the entire guard had been inspected +by the commanding officer himself. But at +reveille four most important prisoners were +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +gone and, such was Canker’s wrath, not only +was Gray in arrest, but the sergeant of +the guard also, while the three luckless men +who were successively posted as sentries during +the night at the back of the wooden shell that +served as a guardhouse—were now in close confinement +in the place of the escaped quartette. +</p> +<p>Yet those three were men who had hitherto +been above suspicion, and there were few soldiers +in the regiment who would accept the +theory that any one of the three had connived +at the escape. As for the sergeant—he had +served four enlistments in the —teenth, and +without a flaw in his record beyond an occasional +aberration in the now distant past, due +to the potency of the poteen distilled by certain +Hibernian experts not far from an old-time +“plains fort,” where the regiment had rested on +its march ’cross continent. As for the officers—but +who would suppose an officer guilty of +anything of the kind—a flagrant military +crime? And yet—men got to asking each other +if it were so that Bugler Curran had carried +a note from the prisoner, Morton, to Mr. Gray +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +about 2:30 that afternoon? And what was this +about Gray’s having urged Brooke to swap +tours with him an hour later, and what was +that story the headquarters clerks were telling +about Mr. Gray’s coming to the adjutant and +begging to be allowed to “march on” that +evening instead of Brooke? It wasn’t long +before these rumors, somehow, got to Canker’s +ears, and Canker seemed to grow as big again; +he fairly swelled with indignation at thought +of such turpitude on part of an officer. Then +he sent for Gray—it was the afternoon following +the sailing of the ships with the big brigade—and +with pain and bewilderment and indignation +in his brave blue eyes the youngster +came and stood before his stern superior. Gordon, +who sent the message, and who had heard +Canker’s denunciatory remarks, had found time +to scribble a word or two—“Admit nothing; +say nothing; <i>do</i> nothing but hold your tongue +and temper. If C. insists on answers say you +decline except in presence of your legal adviser.” +So there was a scene in the commander’s +tent that afternoon. The morning had not +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +been without its joys. Along about ten o’clock +as Gray sat writing to his father in his little +canvas home, he heard a voice that sent the +blood leaping through his veins and filled his +eyes with light. Springing from his campstool +and capsizing it as he did so, he poked his curly +head from the entrance of the tent—and there +she was—only a dozen feet away—Major Lane +in courteous attendance, Mr. Prime sadly following, +and Miss Prime quite content with the +devotions of Captain Schuyler. Only a dozen +feet away and coming straight to him, with +frank smiles and sympathy in her kind and winsome +face—with hand outstretched the moment +she caught sight of him. “We wanted to come +when we heard of it yesterday, Mr. Gray,” said +Amy Lawrence, “but it was dark when we got +back from seeing the fleet off, and uncle was +too tired in the evening. Indeed we are all +very, very sorry!” And poor Billy never heard +or cared what the others said, so absorbed was +he in drinking in her gentle words and gazing +into her soft, dark eyes. No wonder he found +it difficult to release her hand. That brief visit, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +filled with sweetness and sunshine, ought to +have been a blessing to him all day long, but +Canker caught sight of the damsels as they +walked away on the arms of the attendant cavaliers—Miss +Lawrence more than once smiling +back at the incarcerated Billy—and Canker +demanded to be informed who they were and +where they had been, and Gordon answered +they were Miss Lawrence of Santa Anita, and +Miss Prime of New York—and he “reckoned” +they must have been in to condole with Mr. +Gray—whereat Canker snarled that people +ought to know better than to visit officers in +arrest—it was tantamount to disrespect to the +commander. It was marvelous how many +things in Canker’s eyes were disrespectful. +</p> +<p>So he heard these stories with eager ears and +sent for Gray, and thought to bully him into an +admission or confession, but Gordon’s words +had “stiffened” the little fellow to the extent +of braving Canker’s anger and telling him he +had said all he proposed to say when the colonel +called him up the previous day. The result +of that previous interview was his being placed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +in close arrest and informed that he should be +tried by general court-martial once. So he had +taken counsel, as was his right, and “counsel” +forbade his committing himself in any way. +</p> +<p>“Then you refuse to divulge the contents of +that note and to say why you were so eager to +go on guard out of your turn?” said Canker, +oracularly. “That in itself is sufficient to convince +any fair-minded court of your guilt, sir.” +Whereat Gordon winked at Billy and put his +tongue in his cheek—and Billy stood mute until +ordered, with much asperity, to go back to his +tent. +</p> +<p>But there were other things that might well +go toward convincing a court of the guilt of +Lieutenant Gray, and poor Billy contemplated +them with sinking heart. Taking prompt advantage +of his position as officer of the guard, +he had caused the young prisoner to be brought +outside the guardhouse, and as a heavy, dripping +fog had come on the wings of the night +wind, sailing in from the sea, he had led the +way to the sheltered side, which happened to +be the darkest one, of the rude little building, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +and had there bidden him tell his story. But +Morton glanced uneasily at a sentry who followed +close and was hovering suspiciously +about. “I cannot talk about—the affair—with +that fellow spying,” he said, with an eager plea +in his tone and a sign of the hand that Gray +well knew and quickly recognized. “Keep +around in front. I’ll be responsible for this +prisoner,” were his orders, and, almost reluctantly, +the man left. He was a veteran soldier, +and his manner impressed the lieutenant with +a vague sense of trouble. Twice the sentry +glanced back and hesitated, as though something +were on his mind that he must tell, but +finally he disappeared and kept out of the way +during the brief interview that immediately followed. +The prisoner eagerly, excitedly began +his explanation—swiftly banishing any lingering +doubts Gray might have entertained as to +his innocence. But he had come from a stove-heated +guardroom into the cold sea wind off +the Pacific—into the floating wisps of vapor +that sent chill to the marrow. He was far too +lightly clad for that climate, and presently he +began to shiver. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span></p> +<p>“You are cold,” said Gray, pityingly. +“Have you no overcoat?” +</p> +<p>“It’s at my tent—I never expected to spend +this night here. I’ve been before the summary +court, fined for absence, and thought that would +end it, but instead of that I’m a prisoner and +the man who should be here is stalking about +camp, planning more robberies. Yet I’d rather +associate with the very worst of the deserters +or dead beats inside there,” and the dark eyes +glanced almost in horror—the slender figure +shook with mingled repulsion and chill—“than +with that smooth-tongued sneak and liar. +There’s no crime too mean for him to commit, +Mr. Gray, and the men are beginning to know +it, though the colonel won’t. For God’s sake +get me out of this before morning—” And +again the violent tremor shook the lad from +head to foot. +</p> +<p>“Here—get inside!” said Gray impulsively. +“I’ll see the adjutant at once and return to you +in a few minutes. If you have to remain until +the matter can be investigated by the General it +might be——” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p> +<p>“It would be—” vehemently interrupted +Morton, then breaking off short as though at +loss for descriptive of sufficient strength. He +seemed to swell with passion as he clinched his +fists and fairly stood upon his toes an instant, +his strong white teeth grinding together. “It +would be—simply hell!” he burst in again, +hoarse and quivering. “It would ruin—everything! +Can’t the General give the order to-night?” +he asked with intense eagerness, while +the young officer, taking him by the arm, had +led him again to the light of the guardhouse +lamps at the front. The sergeant and a group +of soldiers straightened up and faced them, listening +curiously. +</p> +<p>“It may be even impossible to see the General,” +answered Gray doubtfully. “Take Morton +into the guardroom till I get back, sergeant, +and let him warm himself thoroughly.” +Don’t put him with the prisoners till I return, +and so saying he had hastened away. Gordon, +his friend and adviser, had left camp and gone +visiting over in the other division. The lights at +general headquarters were turned low. Even +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +now, after having heard proofs of the innocence +of the accused soldier, Gray knew that it was +useless to appeal to the colonel. He could not +understand, however, the feverish, almost insane, +impatience of the lad for immediate release. +Another day ought not to make so great +a difference. What could be the reason—if it +were not that, though innocent of the robbery +of the storehouse, or of complicity in the sale +of stolen goods, some other crime lay at his +door which the morrow might disclose? All the +loyalty of a Delta Sig was stretched to the +snapping point as Gray paused irresolute in +front of the adjutant’s tent, his quest there +unsuccessful. The sergeant-major and a sorely +badgered clerk were working late over some +regimental papers—things that Morton wrote +out easily and accurately. +</p> +<p>“I suppose, sir, it’s no use asking to have the +prisoner sent up here under guard,” said that +jewel of a noncommissioned officer. “Yet the +colonel will be savage if these papers ain’t +ready. It will take us all night as things are +going.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></p> +<p>Gray shook his curly head. “Go ask, if you +like, but—Morton’s in no shape to help +you——” +</p> +<p>“Has he been drinking, sir?” said the sergeant-major, +in surprise. “I never knew +him——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, it isn’t that,” said Gray hastily, “only +he’s—he’s got—other matters on his mind! +Bring me his overcoat. He said it was in his +tent,” and the young officer jerked his head at +the patch of little “A” tents lined up in the +rear of those of the officers. +</p> +<p>“Get Morton’s overcoat and take it to him at +the guardhouse,” snapped the staff sergeant to +the clerk. “Be spry now, and no stopping on +the way back,” he added—well aware how +much in need his assistant stood of creature +comfort of some surreptitious and forbidden +kind. The man was back in a moment, the +coat rolled on his arm. +</p> +<p>“I’ll take it,” said Gray simply. “You +needn’t come.” +</p> +<p>“Go on with it!” ordered the sergeant as the +soldier hesitated. “D’ye think the service has +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +gone to the devil and officers are runnin’ +errands for enlisted men? An’ get back inside +two minutes, too,” he added with portent in +his tone. The subaltern of hardly two months’ +service felt the implied rebuke of the soldier of +over twenty years’ and meekly accepted the +amendment, but—a thought occurred to him: +He had promised Morton paper, envelopes and +stamps and the day’s newspapers—the lad +seemed strangely eager to get all the latter, and +vaguely Billy remembered having heard that +Canker considered giving papers to prisoners +as equivalent to aid and comfort to the enemy. +</p> +<p>“Take it by way of my tent,” said he as they +started, and, once there it took time to find +things. “Go back to the sergeant-major and +tell him I sent you,” said Gray, after another +search. “He needs you on those papers.” +</p> +<p>And when the officer of the guard returned +to the guardhouse and went in to the prisoner, +the sergeant saw—and others saw—that, rolled +in the soldier’s overcoat he carried on his arm, +was a bundle done up in newspaper. Moreover, +a scrap of conversation was overheard. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span></p> +<p>“There’s no one at the General’s,” said the +officer. “I see no way of—fixing it before morning.” +</p> +<p>“My God, lieutenant! There—must be some +way out of it! The morning will be too late.” +</p> +<p>“Then I’ll do what I can for you to-night,” +said Mr. Gray as he turned and hurriedly left +the guardroom—a dozen men standing stiffly +about the walls and doorway and staring with +impassive faces straight to the front. Again, +the young officer had left the post of the guard +and gone up into camp, while far and near +through the dim, fog-swept aisles of a score of +camps the bugles and trumpets were wailing +the signal for “lights out,” and shadowy forms +with coat collars turned up about the ears or +capes muffled around the neck, scurried about +the company streets ordering laughter and talk +to cease. A covered carriage was standing at +the curb outside the officers’ gate—as a certain +hole in the fence was designated—and the sentry +there posted remembered that the officer of +the guard came hurrying out and asked the +driver if he was engaged. “I’m waiting for +the major,” was the answer. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span></p> +<p>“Well, where can one order a carriage to-night +without going clear to town?” inquired +Gray. “I want one—that is—I wish to order +one at once.” +</p> +<p>And the driver who knew very well there +were several places where carriages could be had, +preferred loyalty to his own particular stable +away in town, and so declared there was none. +</p> +<p>“You can telephone there, if you wish, sir,” +he added. +</p> +<p>“And wait till morning for it to get here? +No! I’ll get it—somehow.” +</p> +<p>And that he did get it somehow was current +rumor on the following day, for the sentries on +the guardhouse side of camp swore that a +closed carriage drove down from McAllister +Street for all the world as though it had just +come out of the park, and rolled on past the +back of the guardhouse, the driver loudly +whistling “Killarney,” so that it could be heard +above the crunching of the wheels through the +rough, loose rock that covered the road, and +that carriage drew up not a hundred yards +away, while the lieutenant was out visiting +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +sentries, and presently they saw him coming +back along the walk, stopping to question each +sentry as to his orders. Then he returned and +inquired if all was quiet among the prisoners, +and then went and put out his light in the tent +reserved for the officer of the guard, and once +more left his post, briefly informing the sergeant +of the guard he was going to the +officer of the day. Then it was ascertained +that he had visited half a dozen places in search +of that veteran captain, and appeared much disturbed +because he could not find him. In half +an hour he was back, asking excitedly of the +sentry in rear of the guardhouse if a carriage +had come that way. It had, said the sentry, +and was waiting down the street. Gray hurried +in the direction indicated, was gone perhaps +three minutes, and returned, saying that +the sentry must be mistaken, that no carriage +was there. But the sentry reiterated his statement +that it had been there and had been waiting +for some time, and must have disappeared +while he was temporarily around at the opposite +side of the building. This was about 11 +<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>P.M.</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>Then when Gray appeared at reveille Morton +had disappeared. +</p> +<p>“It’s not the sergeant let them fellers out,” +said the regimental oracles. “This is no ten-dollar +subscription business.” And so until +late in the afternoon the question that agitated +the entire range of regimental camps was: +“How did those fellows break away from the +prison of the —teenth?” Then came a clue, +and then—discovery. +</p> +<p>By order of Lieutenant-Colonel Canker a +board of officers had been convened to investigate +the matter, and after questioning everybody +whom “Squeers” had already badgered +with his assertions, threats and queries, they +went to the guardhouse and began a thorough +inspection of the premises. The wooden building +stood in the midst of a waste of sand blown +in from the shore line by the strong sea wind. +It was perched on something like a dozen stout +posts driven into the soft soil and then the space +between the floor level and the sand was heavily +and stoutly boarded in—thick planks being +used. Between the floor and the sand was a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +space of about eighteen inches vertical, and a +dozen men could have sprawled therein—lying +at full length—but to escape would have required +the connivance of one or more of the +sentries surrounding the building and the ripping +off of one or more of the planks. In his keen +anxiety Canker accompanied the Board on its +tour of investigation—a thing the Board did not +at all like—and presently, as was his wont, began +running things his own way. It had been +found useless to question the soldiers of the +guard. Not a man could be found to admit he +knew the faintest thing about the escape. As +for the prisoners, most of them reckless, devil-may-care +rascals, they grinned or leered suggestively, +but had nothing to tell. +</p> +<p>“We’ll have this boarding ripped off,” said +Canker decisively, “and see what they’ve got +secreted under there. I shouldn’t be surprised +to find a whisky still in full blast, or a complete +gambling outfit—dash, dash ’em to dash +and dashnation! Send for a carpenter, sergeant.” +</p> +<p>The carpenter came, and he and two or three +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +of the guard laid hold of one end of the plank +after its nails were drawn, and with little exertion +ripped it off the other posts. Then everybody +held his breath a minute, stared, and a +small majority swore. So far from its being +open to cats, cans and rubbish, the space on that +side was filled solid with damp, heavy sea sand—a +vertical wall extending from floor to +ground. Canker almost ran around to the +opposite side and had a big plank torn off there. +Within was a wall as damp, solid and straight +as that first discovered, and so, when examined, +were the other two sides provided. Canker’s +face was a study, and the Board gazed and was +profoundly happy. +</p> +<p>At last the colonel exploded: +</p> +<p>“By Jupiter! They haven’t got away at all, +then! There isn’t a flaw in the sand wall anywhere. +They must be hiding about the middle +now. Come on, gentlemen,” and around he +trotted to the front door. “Sergeant,” he cried, +“get out all the prisoners—all their bedding—every +blessed thing they’ve got. I want to +examine that floor.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p> +<p>Most of the guardhouse “birds” were out +chopping wood, and Canker danced in among +the few remaining, loading them with bedding +belonging to their fellows until every item of +clothing and furniture was shoved out of the +room. One member of the Board and one only +failed to enter with his associates—a veteran +captain who read much war literature and abhorred +Canker. To the surprise of the sentry +he walked deliberately over to the fence, +climbed it and presently began poking about +the wooden curb that ran along the road, making +a low revetment or retaining wall for the +earth, cinders and gravel that, distributed over +the sand, had been hopefully designated a sidewalk +by the owners of the tract. Presently he +came sauntering back, and both sentries within +easy range would have sworn he was chuckling. +Canker greeted him with customary +asperity. +</p> +<p>“What do you mean, sir, by absenting yourself +from this investigation, when you must +have known I was with the Board and giving +it the benefit of the information I had gathered?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></p> +<p>“I was merely expediting matters, colonel. +While you were looking for where they went in +I was finding where they got out.” +</p> +<p>“Went in <i>what</i>? Got out of what?” snapped +Canker. +</p> +<p>“Their tunnel, sir. It’s Libby on a small +scale over again. They must have been at +work at it at least ten days.” And as he spoke, +calmly ignoring Canker and letting his eyes +wander over the floor, the veteran battalion +commander sauntered across the room, stirred +up a slightly projecting bit of flooring with the +toe of his boot and placidly continued. “If +you’ll be good enough to let the men pry this +up you <i>may</i> understand.” +</p> +<p>And when pried up and lifted away—a +snugly fitting trapdoor about two feet square—there +yawned beneath it, leading slantwise +downward in the direction of the street, a tunnel +through the soft yielding sand, braced and +strengthened here and there with lids and sides +of cracker-boxes. “Now, if you don’t mind straddling +a fence, sir, I’ll show you the other end,” +said the captain, imperturbably leading the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +way, and Canker, half-dazed yet wholly in +command of his stock of blasphemy, followed. +At the curb, right in the midst of a lot of loose +hay from the bales dumped there three days +before, the leader dislodged with his sword the +top of a clothing box that had been thickly +covered with sand and hay—and there was the +outlet. “Easy as rolling off a log, colonel,” +said old Cobb, with a sarcastic grin. “This +could all be done without a man you’ve blamed +and arrested being a whit the wiser. They +sawed a panel out of the floor, scooped the sand +out of this tunnel, banked it solid against the +weather boarding inside, filled up the whole +space, pretty near, but ran their tunnel under +fence and sidewalk, crawled down the gutter to +the next block out of sight of the sentries, then +walked away free men. Those three thieves +who got away were old hands. The other men +in the guardhouse were only mild offenders, +except Morton. ’Course he was glad of the +chance to go with ’em. I s’pose you’ll release +my sergeant and those sentries now.” +</p> +<p>“I’ll do nothing of the kind,” answered Canker, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +red with wrath, “and your suggestion is +disrespectful to your commanding officer. +When I want your advice I’ll ask for it.” +</p> +<p>“Well, Mr. Gray will be relieved to learn of +this anyhow. I suppose I may tell <i>him</i>,” hazarded +the junior member, mischievously. +</p> +<p>“Mr. Gray be ——. Mr. Gray has everything +to answer for!” shouted the angered colonel. +“It was he who telephoned for a carriage +to meet and run those rascals off. Mr. Gray’s +fate is sealed. He can thank God I don’t slap +him into the guardhouse with his chosen associates, +but <i>he</i> shan’t escape. Sergeant of the +guard, post a sentry over Lieutenant Gray’s +tent, with orders to allow no one to enter or +leave it without my written authority. Mr. +Gray shall pay for this behind the prison bars +of Alcatraz.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Social circles at West Point at long, rare +intervals are shocked by a scandal, and at short +ones, say every other summer—are stirred by +some kind of a sensation, and the “Fairy Sisters” +were the sensation of the year ’97. They +came in July; they went in September, and +meanwhile they were “on the go,” as they expressed +it, from morn till late at night. Physically +they were the lightest weights known to +the hop room. Mentally, as their admirers in +the corps expressed it, “either of them can take +a fall out of any woman at the Point,” and this +was especially true of the elder—Mrs. Frank +Garrison—whose husband was on staff duty in +the far West. Both were slight, fragile, tiny +blondes with light blue eyes, with lighter, fluffy +hair, with exquisite little hands and feet, with +oval, prettily shaped faces, and the younger—the +maiden sister, had a bewitching mouth and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +regular, snowy dots of teeth of which she was +justly proud. Yet, as has been previously said +of Mrs. Frank, while the general effect was in +the case of each that of an extremely pretty +young girl, the elder had no really good features, +the younger only that one. They generally +dressed very much alike in light, flimsy +gowns, and hats, gloves and summer shoes all +of dazzling white—sometimes verging for a +change to a creamy hue—but colors, except for +sashes or summer shawls, seemed banished +from their wardrobes. They danced divinely, +said the corps, and preferred cadet partners, to +the joy of the battalion. They rode fearlessly +and well, and had stunning hats and habits, +but few opportunities for display thereof. They +came tripping down the path from the hotel +every morning, fresh and fair as daisies, in +time for guard mounting, and at any hour after +that could be found chatting with cadet friends +at the visitors’ tent, strolling arm in arm about +the shaded walks with some of their many +admirers until time to dress for the evening hop, +where they never missed a dance, and on rainy +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +days, or on those evenings when there was neither +hop nor band practice, they could be found, +each in some dimly lighted, secluded nook +about the north or west piazza or on the steps +leading down to the “Chain Battery Walk,” +sometimes surrounded by a squad of cadet +friends, but more frequently in murmured <i>tęte-ŕ-tęte</i> +with only one cavalier. In the case of +Mrs. Frank no member of the corps seemed +especially favored. She was just the same to +every one. In the case of her younger sister—Miss +Terriss—there presently developed a dashing +young cadet captain who so scientifically +conducted his campaign that he headed off +almost all competitors and was presently accorded +the lead under the universally accepted +theory that he had won the little lady’s heart. +Observant women—and what women are not +observant—of each other?—declared both sisters +to be desperate flirts. Society at the Point +frowned upon them and, after the first formal +call or two, dropped them entirely—a thing +they never seemed to resent in the least, or even +to notice. They were never invited out to tea +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +or dinner on the post—solemn functions nowhere +near so palatable as the whispered homage +of stalwart young manhood. “Nita is yet +such a child she infinitely prefers cadet society, +and I always did like boys,” explained Mrs. +Garrison. Some rather gay old boys used to +run up Saturday afternoons on the Mary Powell +and spend Sunday at the Point—Wall Street +men of fifty years and much lucre. “Dear old +friends of father’s,” Mrs. Frank used to say, +“and I’ve simply got to entertain them.” Entertained +they certainly were, for her wit and +vivacity were acknowledged on every side, and +entertained not only collectively, but severally, +for she always managed to give each his hour’s +confidential chat, and on the Sundays of their +coming had no time to spare for cadet friends. +Moreover, she always drove down in the big +’bus with them Monday morning when the +Powell was sighted coming along that glorious +reach from Polopel’s Island, and stood at the +edge of the wharf waving her tiny kerchief—even +blowing fairy kisses to them as they +steamed away. No wonder Nita Terriss was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +frivolous and flirtatious with such an example, +said society, and its frowns grew blacker when +the White Sisters, the Fairy Sisters—the “Sylphites,” +came in view. But frowns and fulminations +both fell harmless from the armor of +Mrs. Frank’s gay <i>insouçiance</i>. Nita winced at +first, but soon rallied and bore the slights of +the permanent and semi-permanent residents +as laughingly as did her more experienced sister. +Nita, it was explained, was only just out +of school, and Mrs. Frank was giving her this +summer at the Point as a great treat before +taking her to the far West, where the elder sister +must soon go to join her husband. Everybody +knew Frank Garrison. He had long been +stationed at the Academy, and was a man universally +liked and respected—even very highly +regarded. All of a sudden the news came back +to the Point a few months after his return to his +regiment that he was actually engaged to +“Witchie” Terriss. Hot on the heels of the +rumor came the wedding cards—Lieutenant-Colonel +and Mrs. Terriss requested the honour +of your presence at the marriage of their +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +daughter Margaret to Lieutenant Francis Key +Garrison, —th U. S. Cavalry, at the Post +Chapel, Fort Riley, Kansas, November —, 1894—all +in Tiffany’s best style, as were the cards +which accompanied the invitation. “What a +good thing for old Bill Terriss!” said everybody +who knew that his impecuniosity was due +to the exactions and extravagancies of his wife +and “Witchie.”—“And what a bad thing for +Frank Garrison!” was the echo. His intimates +knew that he had “put by” through economy +and self-denial about two thousand dollars, the +extent of his fortune outside of his pay. “She’ll +make ducks and drakes of it in the six weeks’ +honeymoon,” was the confident prophecy, and +she probably did, for, despite the fact that he +had so recently rejoined the regiment, “Witchie” +insisted on a midwinter run to New Orleans, +Savannah and Washington, and bore her +lord, but not her master, over the course in +triumph. To a student of human nature—and +frailty—that union of a faded and somewhat +shopworn maid of twenty-seven to an ardent +and vigorous young soldier many moons her +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +junior was easy to account for. One after another +Witchie Terriss had had desperate affairs +with half a dozen fellows, older or younger, in +the army and was known to have been engaged to +five different men at different times, and believed +to have been engaged to two different men at +one time. Asked as to this by one of her +chums she was reported to have replied: “Do +you know, I believe it true; I had totally forgotten +about Ned Colston before Mr. Forman +had been at the post a week. Of course the +only thing to do was to break with both and +let them start fresh.” But this Mr. Colston, +whose head had been somewhat cleared by a +month of breezy, healthful scouting, accepted +only in part—that part which included the +break. Forman had the fresh start and a walk +over and held the trophy just two months, when +it dawned upon him that Margaret loved dancing +far more than she did him—a clumsy performer, +and that she would dance night after +night, the lightest, daintiest creature in the hop +room, and never have a word or a look for him +who leaned in gloomy admiration against the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +wall and never took his eyes off her. He became +jealous, moody, ugly-tempered and finally +had the good luck to get his <i>congé</i> as the result +of an attempt to assert himself and limit her +dances. She was blithe and radiant and fancy +free when Frank Garrison reached the post, +a wee bit hipped, it was whispered, because of the +failure of a somewhat half-hearted suit of his +in the far East, and the Fairy bounded into the +darkness of his life and fairly dazzled him. +Somebody had said Frank Garrison had +money. +</p> +<p>There is no need to tell of the disillusion +that gradually came. Frank found his debts +mounting up and his cares increasing. She +was all sympathy and regret when he mentioned +it, but—there were certain comforts, luxuries +and things she had always been accustomed +to, and couldn’t live without. Surely +he would not have her apply to papa. No, but—could +she not manage with a little less? He +was willing to give up his cigars (indeed, he +had long since done so) and to make his uniforms +last a year longer—he who was in his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +day the most carefully dressed man at the +Point. Well—she thought perhaps he ought +to do that—besides—men’s fashions changed +but slowly, whereas women’s—“Well, I’d +rather be dead than out of style, Frank!” +</p> +<p>And so it went. +</p> +<p>But if she did not love her husband there was +one being in whom her frivolous heart was +really bound up—Nita—her “baby sister,” as +she called her, and when Terriss, the colonel, +went the way of all flesh, preceded only a few +months by the wife of his bosom, the few thousands +in life insurance he had managed to +maintain went to the two daughters. Not one +penny was ever laid out in payment of the +debts of either the father or husband. Nita +was sent to an extravagant finishing school in +Gotham, and along in May of the young girl’s +graduating year, blithe little Mrs. Garrison +arrived, fresh from the far West, and after a +few weeks of sightseeing and shopping the sisters +appeared at the Point, even half-mourning +by this time discarded. Thirteen years’ difference +was there in the ages of the Fairy Sisters, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +and not a soul save those who knew them in +former days on the frontier would have suspected +it. Mrs. Frank in evening dress didn’t +look over twenty. +</p> +<p>One lovely evening early in August, just +about the time that Cadet Captain Latrobe +began to show well to the front in the run for +the prize, the two sisters had gone to their room +at the hotel to dress for the hop. It was their +custom to disappear from public gaze about six +o’clock and when they came floating down the +stairs in filmy, diaphanous clouds of white, the +halls were well filled with impatient cavaliers +in the natty cadet uniform, and with women +“waiting to see.” Then the sisters would go +into the dining room and have some light refreshment, +with a glass of iced tea—and no +matter how torrid the heat or how flushed and +dragged other women might look, they were +inviting pictures of all that was ever fresh, cool +and fragrant. The two fluffy blonde heads +would be huddled close together a minute as +they studied the bill of fare, and virtuous matrons +at other tables, fanning vigorously, would +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +sniff and say: “All for effect. They know that +supper bill by heart. It never changes.” All +the same, at the bottom of this public display +of sisterly devotion and harmony and in spite +of occasional tiffs and differences, there was +genuine affection on both sides, for as a child +Nita had adored Margaret, and there could be +no doubting the elder’s love for the child. +Some regimental observers said that every bit +of heart that eldest Terriss girl had was +wrapped up in the little one. Neither girl, +even after Margaret’s marriage, would listen +to a word in disparagement of the other, but in +the sanctity of the sisterly retreat on the third +floor of the old hotel there occurred sometimes +spirited verbal tilts that were quite distinctly +audible to passers-by in the corridor, provided +they cared to listen, which some of them did. +On this especial August evening Mrs. Frank +was in an admonitory frame of mind. They +had known Mr. Latrobe barely three weeks, +and yet as Mrs. Frank was sauntering around +a turn in Flirtation Walk, leaning on the arm +of the cadet adjutant, there in the pathway +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +right ahead stood Nita, a lovely little picture +with downcast eyes, and “Pat” Latrobe bending +over her with love and passion glowing in +his handsome face, pleading eagerly, clinging +fervently to both her tiny, white-gloved hands. +Mrs. Garrison saw it all in the flash of a second, +the adjutant not at all, for with merry +laughter she repeated some words he had just +spoken as though they were about the wittiest, +funniest things in the world, and looked frankly +up into his eyes as though he were the best and +brightest man she had met in years—so his +eyes were riveted, and the tableau had time to +dissolve. All the same that sight gave Mrs. +Garrison rather more than a bad quarter of an +hour. She was infinitely worried. Not because +Pat Latrobe had fallen desperately in +love with her charming little sister—that was +his lookout—but what—oh, what might not +happen if the charming little sister were to fall +in love with that handsome soldier boy. At all +hazards, even if she had to whisk her away to-morrow, +that had to be stopped, and this very +evening when they went to their room Margaret +spoke. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p> +<p>“Nita, if it were only for Mr. Latrobe I +should not care a snap of my finger, but it’s +you—<i>you</i>! I thought you had more sense. I +thought you <i>fully</i> understood that you couldn’t +afford to lose yourself a moment, and yet if +ever a girl <i>looked</i> like yielding you did this +very afternoon. For my sake, for your own +sake, Nita, don’t let it go any further—<i>don’t</i> +fall in love—here—whatever you do.” +</p> +<p>The younger sister stood at the dressing table +at the moment, her face averted. The Mary +Powell was just rounding the Point, and the +mellow, melodious notes of her bell were still +echoing through the Highlands. Nita was +gazing out on the gorgeous effect of sunset light +and shadow on the eastern cliffs and crags +across the Hudson, a flush as vivid mantling +her cheeks, her lip quivering. She was making +valiant efforts to control herself before replying. +</p> +<p>“I’m <i>not</i> in love with him,” she finally said. +</p> +<p>“Perhaps not—yet. Surely I hope not, but +it looked awfully like it was coming—and Nita, +you simply mustn’t. You’ve got to marry +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +money if I have to stand guard over you and +see you do it—and you know you can this minute—if +you’ll only listen.” +</p> +<p>The younger girl wheeled sharply, her eyes +flashing. “Peggy, you promised me I shouldn’t +hear that hateful thing again—at least not +until we left here—and you’ve broken your +word—twice. You——” +</p> +<p>“It’s because I must. I can’t see you drifting—the +way I did when, with your youth and—advantages +you can pick and choose. Colonel +Frost has mines and money all over the +West, and he was your shadow at the seashore, +and all broken up—he told me—so when we +came here. Paddy Latrobe is a beautiful boy +without a penny—” +</p> +<p>“His uncle—” began Nita feebly. +</p> +<p>“His uncle had a sister to support besides +Paddy’s mother. His pay as brigadier in the +regular service is only fifty-five hundred. He +<i>can’t</i> have saved much of anything in the past, +and he may last a dozen years yet—or more. +Even if he does leave everything then to Latrobe, +what’ll you do meantime? Don’t be a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +fool, Nita, because I was. I <i>had</i> to be. It was +that or nothing, and father was getting tired. +<i>You</i> heard how he talked.” +</p> +<p>The younger sister was still at the dressing-table +diligently brushing her shining, curly +tresses. She had regained her composure and +was taking occasional furtive peeps at Mrs. +Frank, now seated at the foot of the bed, busy +with a buttonhook and the adjustment of a pair +of very dainty boots of white kid, whose buttons +gleamed like pearls. The mates to them, half +a size smaller, peeped from the tray of Nita’s +new trunk. +</p> +<p>There came a footstep and a rap at the door. +“See what it is, Nita, there’s a love—I don’t +want to hop.” +</p> +<p>It was a card—a new arrival at the hotel. +</p> +<p>“Gentleman said he’d wait in the parlor +’m,” said the bellboy, and vanished. Nita +glanced at the card and instant trouble stood +in her paling face. Silently Mrs. Garrison +held out her hand, took the card, and one +quick look. The buttonhook dropped from her +relaxed fingers. The card read: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span></p> +<p>“Mr. Gouverneur Prime.” +</p> +<p>For a second or two the sisters gazed at each +other in silence. +</p> +<p>At last the elder spoke: “In heaven’s name, +what brings that absurd boy back here? I +thought him safe in Europe.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +</div> + +<p>One of the most charming writers of our day +and generation has declared that “the truest +blessing a girl can have” is “the ingenuous devotion +of a young boy’s heart.” Nine mothers +in ten will probably take issue with the gifted +author on that point, and though no longer a +young girl in years whatever she might be in +looks, Margaret Garrison would gladly have +sent the waiting gentlemen to the right about, +for, though he was only twenty, “Gov” Prime, +as a junior at Columbia, had been ingenuously +devoted to the little lady from the very first +evening he saw her. A boy of frank, impulsive +nature was “Gov”—a boy still in spite of +the budding mustache, the twenty summers +and the barely passed “exam” that wound up +the junior year and entitled him to sit with the +seniors when the great university opened its +doors in October. Studies he hated, but tennis, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +polo, cricket, riding and dancing were things +he loved and excelled in. Much of his boyhood +had been spent at one of those healthy, hearty +English schools where all that would cultivate +physical and mental manhood was assiduously +practiced, and all that would militate against +them was as rigorously “tabooed.” +</p> +<p>At the coming of his twentieth birthday that +summer his father had handed him his check +for five thousand dollars—the paternal expression +of satisfaction that his boy had never +smoked pipe, cigar or cigarette—and the same +week “Gov” had carried off the blue ribbon +with the racquet, and the second prize with the +single sculls. It was during the “exams,” the +first week in June, when dropping in for five +o’clock tea on some girls whom he had known +for years, he was presented to this witching +little creature whose name he didn’t even catch. +“We met her away out at an army post in Wyoming +when papa took us to California last year,” +was whispered to him, “and they entertained +us so cordially, and of course we said if ever +you come to New York you must be sure to let +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +us know—and she did—but—” and there his +informant paused, dubious. Other callers +came in and it began to rain—a sudden, drenching +shower, and the little stranger from the far +West saw plainly enough that her hostesses, +though presenting their friends after our cheery +American fashion, were unable to show her further +attention, and the newly presented—almost +all women, said “so very pleased” but +failed to look it, or otherwise to manifest their +pleasure. She <i>couldn’t</i> go in the rain. The butler +had ’phoned for a cab. She wouldn’t sit there +alone and neglected. She deliberately signaled +Mr. Prime. “The ladies are all busy,” she +said, with a charmingly appealing smile, “but +I know you can tell me. I have to dress for +dinner after I get home, and must be at One +Hundred and Tenth Street at 7:30. How long +will it take a carriage to drive me there? Oh, +is that your society pin? Why, are <i>you</i> still +in college? Why, I thought——” +</p> +<p>That cab was twenty-five minutes coming, +and when it came Mr. Prime went with it and +her, whom he had not left an instant from the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +moment of her question. Moreover, he discovered +she was nervous about taking that carriage +drive all alone away up to One Hundred and +Tenth Street, yet what other way could a girl +go in dinner dress. He left her at her door +with a reluctantly given permission to return +in an hour and escort her to the distant home +of her friends and entertainers. He drove to +the Waldorf and had a light dinner with a half +pint of Hock, devoured her with his eyes as +they drove rapidly northward, went to a Harlem +theater while she dined and forgot him, and +was at the carriage door when she came forth +to be driven home. Seven hours or less “had +done the business,” so far as Gouverneur Prime +was concerned. +</p> +<p>It was the boy’s first wild infatuation—as +mad, unreasoning, absurd, yet intense as was +ever that of Arthur Pendennis for the lovely +Fotheringay. Margaret Garrison had never +seen or known the like of it. She had fascinated +others for a time, had kindled love, passion +and temporary devotion, but this—this was +worship, and it was something so sweet to her +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +jaded senses, something so rich and spontaneous +that she gave herself up for a day or two to +the delight of studying it. Here was a glorious +young athlete whose eyes followed her every +move and gesture, who hung about her in utter +captivation, whose voice trembled and whose +eyes implored, yet whose strong, brown, shapely +hand never dared so much as touch hers, except +when she extended it in greeting. He was to +accompany his father and sister to Europe in a +week, so what harm was there: He would forget +all about it. He knew now she was married. +He was presented to Nita, but had hardly +a word and never a look for her when Margaret +was near. He was dumb and miserable all the +day they drove in the park and later dined at +Delmonico’s with Colonel Frost. He was sick, +even when mounted on his favorite English +thoroughbred and scampering about the bridle +path for peeps at the drives, when she was at +the park again with that gray-haired reprobate, +that money shark, Cashton—a Wall Street +broker black-balled at every decent club in +New York. Why should she go with him? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +He had been most kind, she said, in the advice +and aid he had given her in the investment of +her little fortune. She told the lie with downcast +eyes and cheeks that burned, for most of +that little fortune was already frittered away, +and Cashton’s reports seemed to require many +personal visits that had set tongues wagging at +the hotel, so much frequented of the Army, +where she had taken a room until Nita should +have been graduated and they could go to the +seashore. She had promised to be at home to +her boy adorer that very evening and to go +with him to Daly’s, and he had secured the +seats four days ahead. Poor “Gov” had +trotted swiftly home from the park, striving to +comfort himself over his bath and irreproachable +evening clothes, that <i>there</i>, with her by his +side, the wild jealousy of the day would vanish. +Sharply on time he had sent up his card and +listened, incredulous, to the reply: “Mrs. Garrison +has not yet returned.” He would wait, +he said, and did wait, biting his nails, treading +the floor, fuming in doubt and despair until +nearly ten, when a carriage dashed up to the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +ladies’ entrance and that vile Cashton handed +her out, escorted her in and vanished. She +came hurrying to her boy lover with both little +hands outstretched, with a face deeply flushed +and words of pleading and distress rushing from +her lips. “Indeed I could not help it, Gov,” +she cried. “I told him of my engagement and +said we must not go so far, but away at the +north end something happened, I don’t know +what, a wheel was bent and the harness +wrenched by too short a turn on a stone post at +a corner. Something had to be repaired. They +said it wouldn’t take ten minutes, and he led +me out and up to the piazza of that big hotel—you +know, we saw it the day I drove with +you—” (“He was a blackguard to take you +there!” burst in Prime, the blood boiling in his +veins.) “Then we waited and waited and he +went to hurry them, and then he came back +and said they had found more serious damages—that +it would take an hour, and meantime +dinner had been ordered and was served. He +had telephoned to you and the butler had answered +all right.” “He’s a double-dyed liar!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +raved “Gov,” furiously. “And so what +could I do, Gov? The dinner was delicious, +but I couldn’t eat a mouthful.” (This time it +wasn’t Cashton who lied). “I was worrying +about you, and—and—about myself, too, Gov. +I had set my heart on going with you. It +was to be almost our last evening. Oh, if you +only didn’t have to sail Saturday, and could +be here next week, you dear boy, you should +have no cause for complaint! Won’t you try +to forgive me?” +</p> +<p>And, actually, tears stood in her eyes, as +again she held out both hands. They were the +only people in the parlor, and in an instant, +with quick, sudden, irresistible action he had +clasped and drawn her to his breast, and though +she hid her face and struggled, passionate +kisses were printed on her disheveled hair. It +was the first time he had dared. +</p> +<p>And then he did not sail Saturday. Prime +Senior was held by most important business. +They gave up the Saturday Cunarder and +took the midweek White Star, and those four +additional days riveted poor “Gov’s” chains +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +and left her well-nigh breathless with excitement. +The strain had been intense. It was all +she could do to make the boy try to behave in a +rational way in the presence of others. When +alone with her he raved. A fearful load was +lifted from her spare little shoulders when the +Teutonic sailed. Even Nita had worried and +had seen her sister’s worry. Then no sooner +did “Gov” reach Europe than he began writing +impassioned letters by every steamer, but that +wasn’t so bad. She had several masculine correspondents, +some of whom wrote as often as +Frank, but none of whom, to do her justice, got +letters as often as he did, which, however, was +saying little, for she hated writing. “Gov” +was to have stayed abroad three months, piloting +the pater and sister about the scenes so +familiar to him, but they saw how nervous and +unhappy he was. They knew he was writing +constantly to some one. Mildred had long +since divined that there was a girl at the bottom +of it all, and longed and strove to find out +who she was. Through the last of June and +all through July he resolutely stood to his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +promise and did his best to be loving and +brotherly to a loving and devoted sister and +dutiful to a most indulgent father. But he +grew white and worn and haggard, he who had +been such a picture of rugged health, and, in +her utter innocence and ignorance as to the being +on whom her brother had lavished the +wealth of his love, Mildred began to ask herself +should she not urge her father to let “Gov” +return to America. At last, one sweet July +evening, late in the month, the brother and +sister were wandering along the lovely shore of +Lucerne. He had been unusually fitful, restless +and moody all day. No letter had reached +him in over a fortnight, and he was miserably +unhappy. They stopped at a grassy bank that +ran down to the rippling water’s edge, and she +seated herself on a stone ledge, while in reckless +abandonment he threw himself full length +on the dewy grass. Instantly the last doubt +vanished. Bending over him, her soft hand +caressing his hair, she whispered: “Gov, +dear boy, is it so very hard? Would you like +to go to her at once?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></p> +<p>And the boy buried his face in her lap, twined +his arms about her slender waist, and almost +groaned aloud as he answered. “For pity’s +sake help me if you can, Mildred, I’m almost +mad.” +</p> +<p>Early in August the swiftest steamer of the +line was splitting the Atlantic surges and driving +hard for home, with “Gov” cursing her for +a canal boat. The day after he reached New +York he had traced and followed the White +Sisters to West Point, and Margaret Garrison +stared in mingled delight, triumph and dismay +at the card in her hand. Delight that she could +show these exclusive Pointers that the heir to +one of the oldest and best names in Gotham’s +Four Hundred was a slave to her beck and call. +Dismay to think of the scene that might occur +through his jealousy when he saw the devoted +attentions she received from so many men—officers, +civilians and cadets. Old Cashton +came up now as regularly as Saturday night +came around—and there were others. Margaret +Garrison was more talked about than any +woman in Orange County, yet, who could report +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +anything of her beyond that she was a universal +favorite, and danced, walked, possibly +flirted with a dozen different cavaliers every +day of her life? There were some few among +her accusers, demure and most proper—even +prudish—women, of whom, were the truth to be +told, so little could not be said. +</p> +<p>“Gov” Prime took the only kind of room to be +had in the house, so full was it—a little seven +by ten box on the office floor. He would have +slept in the coal bin rather than leave her. He +saw her go off to the hop looking radiant, +glancing back over her shoulder and smiling +sweetly at him. He rushed to his trunk, +dragged out his evening clothes, and stood at +the wall looking on until the last note of the +last dance—he a noted German leader in the +younger set and the best dancer of his years in +Gotham. Not so much as a single spin had +he, and he longed to show those tight-waisted, +button-bestrewed fellows in gray and white how +little they really knew about dancing well as +many of them appeared on the floor. His reward +was tendered as the hop broke up. She +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +came gliding to him with such witchery in her +upraised face. “Now, sir, it is your turn. I +couldn’t give you a dance, for my card was +made out days ago, but Mr. Latrobe was glad +enough to get rid of taking me home. He is +daft about Nita, and of course she <i>can’t</i> let him +take her to more than one hop a week. Mr. +Stanton is her escort to-night.” +</p> +<p>Then she placed her little hand on his arm, +and drew herself to his side, and when he would +have followed the others, going straight across +the broad plain to the lights at the hotel, turned +him to the left. “I’m going to take you all +the way round, sir,” she said joyously. +“Then we can be by ourselves at least ten minutes +longer.” +</p> +<p>And so began the second period of Gouverneur +Prime’s thralldom. A young civilian at +the Point has few opportunities at any time, +but when the lady of his love is a belle in the +corps, he would much better take a long ocean +voyage than be where he could hear and see, and +live in daily torment. One comfort came to +him when he could not be with Mrs. Garrison +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +(who naďvely explained that “Gov” was such a +dear boy and they were such stanch friends, +real comrades, you know). He had early made +the acquaintance of Pat Latrobe, and there was +a bond of sympathy between them which was +none the less strong because, on Prime’s side, +it could neither be admitted nor alluded to—that +they were desperately in love with the sisters, +and it was not long before it began to +dawn on Prime that pretty little Nita was +playing a double game—that even while assuring +her guardian sister that she had only a +mild interest in Latrobe, she was really losing +or had lost her heart to him, and in every way +in her power was striving to conceal the fact +from Margaret, and yet meet her lover at hours +when she thought it possible to do so without +discovery. As the friendship strengthened between +himself and Latrobe they began using +him as Cupid’s postman, and many little notes +and some big ones found their way to and from +the Fourth Division of cadet barracks. Mrs. +Frank was only moderately kind to her civilian +adorer then, granting him only one dance at +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +each hop, and going much with other men, but +that dance was worth seeing. Prime’s was the +only black “claw-hammer” in the room, and +therefore conspicuous, and cadets—who know a +good thing when they see it—and many a pretty +girl partner, would draw aside to watch the perfection +of their step and the exquisite ease with +which they seemed to float through space, circling +and reversing and winding among the +other dancers, he ever alert, watchful, quick as a +cat and lithe and strong as a panther—she all +yielding lissome airy grace. That dance was +“Gov” Prime’s reward, and almost only reward +for hours of impatient waiting. Other +women, charming and pretty and better women, +would gladly have been his partners. Some +two or three whom he met at the hotel even intimated +as much. But not until Lady Garrison +told him he must—to protect her from +scandal—did he ask another to dance. At last +came the end of the summer’s encampment, +the return of the corps to barracks and studies, +one blissful week in which he was enabled to +spend several uninterrupted hours each day at +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +her side, and then a cataclysm. A letter intended +only for Nita’s hands fell into those of +her sister. It was bulky. It was from Latrobe. +She hesitated only a moment, then, +with determination in her eyes, opened and +read—all. Two days after Nita was whisked +away to New York, and within another week, +leaving two most disconsolate swains on the +Hudson, the sisters, one of them bathed in +tears, went spinning away to the West, where +Frank Garrison was on duty at department +headquarters. Prime was permitted to write +once a fortnight (he sent a volume), and Latrobe +forbidden, but already the poor boy owned +a thick packet of precious missives, all breathing +fond love and promising utter constancy +though she had to wait for him for years. For +a month Nita would hardly speak to her sister, +but in October there were lovely drives, picnics +and gayeties of all kinds. There were attractive +young officers and assiduous old ones, and +among these latter was Frost, with his handsome +gray mustache and distinguished bearing, +and that air of conscious success and possession +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +which some men know so well how to assume +even when their chances are slimmer than my +lady’s hand. The sisterly breach was healed +before that beautiful month was over. Frost +dined at the Garrison’s four times a week and +drove Miss Nita behind his handsome bays +every day or two. In November he asked a +question. In December there was an announcement +that called forth a score of congratulations +around headquarters, and in January the wedding +cards went all over the Union—some to +West Point—but to Latrobe, who had been looking +ill and anxious for six weeks, said his classmates, +and falling off fearfully in his studies, +said his professors, only a brief note inclosing +his letters and begging for hers. At reveille +next morning there was no captain to receive +the report of roll call from the first sergeant of +Company “B.” “Where’s Latrobe?” sleepily +asked the officer of the day of the cadet first +lieutenant. “I don’ know,” was the answer, +and to the amaze of Latrobe’s roommate, who +had gone to bed and to sleep right after taps +the night before, they found evidence that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +“Pat” had left the post. He had not even +made down his bedding. His cadet uniforms +were all there, but a suit of civilian clothes, +usually in a snug package up the chimney, that +had been used several times “running it” to +the hotel after taps in August, was now, like +its owner, missing. After three days’ waiting +and fruitless search, the superintendent wired +Latrobe’s uncle and best friend, old General +Drayton, and that was the last seen or heard of +“Pat.” In the spring and ahead of time his +class was graduated without him, for the war +with Spain was on. In the spring an irate and +long-tried father was upbraiding another only +son for persistent failures at college. “Gov +Prime will get the sack, not the sheepskin,” +prophesied his fellows. And then somehow, +somewhere the father heard it was a married +woman with whom his boy was so deeply +in love, and there were bitter, bitter words +on both sides—so bitter that when at last he +flung himself out of his father’s study Gov +Prime went straight to Mildred’s room, silently +kissed her and walked out of the house. This +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +was in April. The next heard of him he had +enlisted for the war and was gone to San +Francisco with his regiment with the prospect +of service in the Philippines ahead of him, but +that was full four months after his disappearance. +Thither, late in July the father followed, +bringing Mildred with him and—the +reader knows the rest. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> +</div> + +<p>One of Colonel Frost’s consuming ambitions +was to be the head of his department, with the +rank of brigadier-general, but he had strong +rivals, and knew it. Wealth he had in abundance. +It was rank and power that he craved. +Four men—all with better war records and +more experience—stood between him and that +coveted star, and two of the four were popular +and beloved men. Frost was cold, selfish, intensely +self-willed, indomitably persevering, +and though “close-fisted,” to the scale of a +Scotch landlord as a rule, he would loose his +purse strings and pay well for services he considered +essential. When Frost had a consuming +desire he let no money consideration stand +in the way, and for Nita Terriss he stood ready +to spend a small fortune. Everybody knew +Mrs. Frank Garrison could never dress and +adorn herself as she did on poor Frank Garrison’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +pay, and when she appeared with a dazzling +necklace and a superb new gown at the +garrison ball not long after Frost and his +shrinking bride left for their honeymoon, people +looked at her and then at each other. Nita +Terris was sold to “Jack” Frost was the verdict, +and her shrewd elder sister was the dealer. +Mrs. Frank knew what people were thinking +and saying just as well as though they had +said it to her, yet smiled sweetness and bliss on +every side. Frankly she looked up into the +faces of her sisters in arms: “I know you like +my necklace. Isn’t it <i>lovely</i>? Colonel Frost’s +wedding present, you know. He said I +shouldn’t give Nita away without some recompense, +and this is it.” +</p> +<p>But that could have been only a part of it, +said the garrison. An honorarium in solid +cash, it was believed, was far the greater portion +of the consideration which the elder sister +accepted for having successfully borne Nita +away from the dangers and fascinations of the +Point—having guarded her, drooping and +languid, against the advances of good-looking +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +soldier lads at headquarters, and finally having, +by dint of hours of argument, persuasion and +skill, delivered her into the arms of the elderly +but well-preserved groom. All he demanded to +know was that she was fancy free—that there +was no previous attachment, and on this point +Mrs. Frank had solemnly averred there was +none. The child had had a foolish fancy for a +cadet beau, but it amounted to absolutely nothing. +There had been no vows, no pledge, no +promise of any kind, and she was actually free +as air. So Frost was satisfied. +</p> +<p>They made an odd-looking pair. Frost was +“pony built” but sturdy, and Nita seemed like +a fairy—indeed as unsubstantial as a wisp of +vapor, as she came down the aisle on his arm. +They were so far to the south on this honeymoon +trip as almost to feel the shock and concussion +when the Maine was blown to a mass +of wreckage. They were in Washington when +Congress determined on full satisfaction from +Spain, and Colonel Frost was told his leave +was cut short—that he must return to his station +at once. Going first to the Arlington and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +hurriedly entering the room, he almost stumbled +over the body of his wife, lying close to the +door in a swoon from which it took some time +and the efforts of the house physician and the +maids to restore her. Questioned later as to +the cause she wept hysterically and wrung her +hands. She didn’t know. She had gone to +the door to answer a knock, and got dizzy and +remembered nothing more. What became of +the knocker? She didn’t know. Frost inquired +at the office. A bellboy was found who said +he had taken up a card in an envelope given +him by a young feller who “seemed kind o’ +sick. Mrs. Frost took it and flopped,” and a +chambermaid ran in to her, and then hurried +for the doctor. “What became of the letter or +note or card?” asked Frost, with suspicion and +jealousy in his heart. Two women, mistress +and maid, and the bellboy swore they didn’t +know, but the maid did know. With the quick +intuition of her sex and class she had seen that +there was or had been a young lover, and sympathy +for Nita and a dislike for Frost, who +gave no tips, prompted her to hide it until she +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +could slip it safely into Nita’s hand; Nita who +read, shuddered, tore it into minute scraps, and +wept more, face downward on the bed. They +had reached their winter station before the +cable flashed the stirring tidings of Dewey’s +great victory in Manila Bay, and within half a +week came telegraphic orders for Colonel Frost +to proceed at once to San Francisco, there to +await instructions. The first expedition was +organizing when he arrived, his pallid little +wife by his side, and there were his instructions +to proceed to Manila as chief of his department—an +independent position, and yet it was a +horrid blow. But there was no recourse. Nita +begged that she might stay with her sister. She +could not bear the idea of going. Frost knew +that no women could accompany the expedition, +and, shipping his chest and desks by the +transport, he had secured passage for himself +and wife to Hongkong on one of the splendid +steamers of the English line from Vancouver, +and so informed her. It dashed Nita’s last +hope. They were occupying fine rooms at the +Palace Hotel. The city was thronged with +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +officers and rapidly arriving troops. Other +army women, eager to accompany their husbands, +were railing at the fate that separated +them, and Nita had been forced to conceal the +joy with which she heard their lamentations. +But she had yet to learn how exacting Frost +could be. It had never occurred to her that he +could obtain permission to go except by transport. +It had not seemed possible that he would +take her with him. “You should have known,” +said he, “that even if I had had to go by transport, +you would have gone by the Empress of +India. It is only sixty hours from Manila to +Hongkong, and I could have joined you soon +after your arrival. As it is I shall see you +safely established there—I have letters to certain +prominent English people—then shall go +over to join the fleet when it arrives in Manila +Bay.” +</p> +<p>That night she wrote long and desperately to +Margaret. “He swore he would follow me +wherever we went until I granted him the interview. +You know how he dogged me in Washington, +followed me to Denver, and any moment +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +he may address me here. F. will not let +me return to you. He insists on my going to +Hongkong, where he can occasionally join me. +But Rollin holds those letters over me like a +whip, and declares that he will give them into +Frost’s hands unless I see him whenever he +presents himself. You made me swear to +Frost I never cared a straw for my darling that +was. O God, how I loved him! and if these +letters ever reach the man to whom you have +sold me, he would treat me as he would a dog, +even if he doesn’t kill me. Meg—Meg—you +must help me for I live in terror.” +</p> +<p>And that she lived in terror was true, some +women were quick to see. Never would she go +anywhere, even along the corridor, alone. If +the colonel could not come to luncheon she was +served in their rooms. If she had to go calling +or shopping it was in a carriage and always +with some army woman whom she could persuade +to go with her. +</p> +<p>One day, just before their intended departure, +she drove out paying parting calls. It was +quite late when the carriage drew up at the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +Market Street entrance, the nearest to their elevator. +The door boy sprang across the sidewalk +to open the carriage, and as she stepped +wearily out, a tall young man, erect and slender, +dressed in a dark traveling suit, fairly +confronted her, raised his derby, and said: +“You can give me ten minutes now, Mrs. +Frost. Be good enough to take my arm.” +</p> +<p>Bowing her head she strove to dodge by, but +it was useless. Again he confronted her. +Piteously she looked up into his pale, stern +face and clasped her hands. “Oh, Rollin,” +she cried, “give me my letters. I dare not—see +you. Have mercy—” and down again +she went in a senseless heap upon the stone. +Colonel and Mrs. Frost did not sail with the +Empress of India. Brain fever set in and for +three weeks the patient never left the hotel. +Frost made his wife’s dangerous illness the +basis of an application to be relieved from the +Manila detail, but, knowing well it would be +late summer before the troops could be assembled +there in sufficient force to occupy the city, +and that his clerks and books had gone by +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +transport with the second expedition in June, +the War Department compromised on a permission +to delay. By the time the fourth expedition +was ready to start there was no further +excuse; moreover, the doctors declared the sea +voyage was just what Mrs. Frost needed, and +again their stateroom was engaged by the +Empress line, and, though weak and languid, +Mrs. Frost was able to appear in the dining-room. +Meanwhile a vast amount of work was +saddled on the department to which Frost was +attached, and daily he was called upon to aid +the local officials or be in consultation with the +commanding general. This would have left +Mrs. Frost to the ministrations of her nurse +alone, but for the loving kindness of army +women in the hotel. They hovered about her +room, taking turns in spending the afternoon +with her, or the evening, for it was speedily +apparent that she had a nervous dread of being +left by herself, “or even with her husband,” +said the most observing. Already it had been +whispered that despite his assiduous care and +devotion during her illness, something serious +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +was amiss. Everybody had heard of the adventure +which had preceded her alarming illness. +Everybody knew that she had been accosted +and confronted by a strange young +man, at sight of whom she had pleaded piteously +a minute and then fainted dead away. +By this time, too, there were or had been nearly +a dozen of the graduating class in town—classmates +of Rollin Latrobe—their much-loved +“Pat”—and speedily the story was told of his +devotion to her when she was Nita Terriss, of +their correspondence, of their engagement to be +married on his graduation, which in strict confidence +he had imparted to his roommate, who +kept it inviolate until after her sudden union +with Colonel Frost and poor “Pat’s” equally +sudden disappearance. Everybody, Frost included, +knew that the young man who had accosted +her must be Latrobe, and Frost by this +time knew that it must have been he who +caused her shock at the Arlington. He raged +in his jealous heart. He employed detectives +to find the fellow, swearing he would have him +arrested. He became morose and gloomy, for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +all the arts by which Mrs. Garrison persuaded +him that Nita looked up to him with admiration +and reverence that would speedily develop +into wifely love were now proved to be machinations. +He knew that Nita feared him, +shrank from him and was very far from loving +him, and he believed that despite her denials +and fears and protestations she loved young +Latrobe. He wrote angrily, reproachfully to +Margaret, who, now that her fish was hooked, +did not greatly exert herself to soothe or reassure +him. That he could ever use violence to +one so sweet and fragile as Nita she would not +believe for an instant. Then the nurse, still +retained, heard bitter words from the colonel as +one morning she came to the door with Mrs. +Frost’s breakfast, and while she paused, uncertain +about entering at such a time, he rushed +angrily forth and nearly collided with her. +Mrs. Frost was in tears when the nurse finally +entered, and the breakfast was left untouched. +</p> +<p>Late that afternoon, just after the various +trunks and boxes of the Frosts that were to go +by the transport were packed and ready, and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +Mrs. Frost, looking stronger at last, though +still fragile, almost ethereal, was returning +from a drive with one of her friends, the attention +of the two ladies was drawn to a crowd +gathering rapidly on the sidewalk not far from +the Baldwin Hotel. There was no shouting, +no commotion, nothing but the idle curiosity of +men and boys, for a young soldier, a handsome, +slender, dark-eyed, dark-complexioned fellow of +twenty-one or two, had been arrested by a +patrol and there they stood, the sergeant and +his two soldiers fully armed and equipped, the +hapless captive with his arms half filled with +bundles, and over the heads of the little throng +the ladies could see that he was pleading earnestly +with his captors, and that the sergeant, +though looking sympathetic and far from unkind, +was shaking his head. Mrs. Frost, listless +and a little fatigued, had witnessed too +many such scenes in former days of garrison +life to take any interest in the proceeding. +“How stupid these people are!” she irritably +exclaimed. “Running like mad and blocking +the streets to see a soldier arrested for absence +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +from camp without a pass. Shan’t we drive +on?” +</p> +<p>“Oh—just one moment, please, Mrs. Frost. +He has such a nice face—a gentleman’s face, +and he seems so troubled. Do look at it!” +</p> +<p>Languidly and with something very like a +pout, Mrs. Frost turned her face again toward +the sidewalk, but by this time the sergeant had +linked an arm in that of the young soldier and +had led him a pace or two away, so that his +back was now toward the carriage. He was +still pleading, and the crowd had begun to back +him up, and was expostulating, too. +</p> +<p>“Awe, take him where he says, sergeant, and +let him prove it.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t be hard on him, man. If he’s taking +care of a sick friend give ’m a chance.” +</p> +<p>Then the sergeant tried to explain matters. +“I can’t help myself, gentlemen,” said he; +“orders are orders, and mine are to find this +recruit and fetch him back to camp. He’s two +days over time now.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I wish I knew what it meant!” anxiously +exclaimed Mrs. Frost’s companion. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +“I’m sure he needs help.” Then with sudden +joy in her eyes—“Oh, good! There goes Colonel +Crosby. He’ll see what’s amiss,” and as +she spoke a tall man in the fatigue uniform of +an officer of infantry shouldered his way +through the crowd, and reached the blue-coated +quartette in the center. Up went the hands to +the shouldered rifles in salute, and the young +soldier, the cause of all the gathering which +the police were now trying to disperse, whirled +quickly, and with something suspiciously like +tears in his fine dark eyes, was seen to be +eagerly speaking to the veteran officer. There +was a brief colloquy, and then the colonel said +something to the sergeant at which the crowd +set up a cheer. The sergeant looked pleased, +the young soldier most grateful, and away went +the four along the sidewalk, many of the +throng following. +</p> +<p>And then the colonel caught sight of the +ladies in the carriage, saw that one was signaling +eagerly, and heard his name called. Hastening +to their side, he raised his cap and smiled +a cordial greeting. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I’m so glad you came, colonel, we are +so interested in that young soldier. Do tell us +what it all means. Oh! I beg your pardon, +Mrs. Frost, I surely thought you had met +Colonel Crosby—let me pre— Why, Nita! +What’s— Are you ill? Here, take my salts, +quick!” +</p> +<p>“No—no—go on—I—I want to hear! Where +are they taking him?” faintly murmured Mrs. +Frost. +</p> +<p>“Try to control yourself,” said her companion. +“I’ll tell you in one moment.” Meantime +from without the carriage the colonel +continued, addressing Nita’s companion: +</p> +<p>“He tells a perfectly straight story. He says +he has an old friend who is here so desperately ill +and out of money that he got a doctor for him +and had been nursing him himself. Those +things he carried are medicines and wine that +the doctor bade him buy. All he asks is to +take them to his friend’s room and get a nurse, +then he is ready to go to camp and stand his +trial, so I told the sergeant I’d be responsible.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you so much! Do see that the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +poor fellow isn’t punished. We’ll drive right +round. Perhaps we can do something. It is +Red Cross business, you know. <i>Good</i>-afternoon, +colonel. Please tell our driver to follow +them.” +</p> +<p>But, to her consternation, no sooner had they +started than she felt Nita’s trembling hand +grasping her wrist, and turning quickly saw +that she was in almost hysterical condition. +</p> +<p>“My poor child, I had forgotten you were +so worn out. I’ll take you home at once—but +then we’ll miss them entirely. Oh, could you +bear——” +</p> +<p>“Oh! No! No!” moaned Nita, wringing +her little hands. “Take me—anywhere. No! +Take me home—take me home! and promise me +not to—not to tell my husband what we saw.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +</div> + +<p>For a man ordinarily absorbed in his own +command, Colonel Stanley Armstrong had become, +all on a sudden, deeply engrossed in that +of Colonel Canker. The Frosts had been gone a +week, via Vancouver—the expedition only about +sixteen hours—when he appeared at Gordon’s +tent and frankly asked to be told all that tall +Southerner knew of the young soldier Morton, +now gone from camp for the third, and, as +Armstrong believed, the last time. +</p> +<p>“Why, that young fella’s a bawn gentleman,” +drawled Gordon, as he offered the +colonel a chair and cigar. “He was behavin’ +tip top, steady as you please until about a +month ago. He’s only been with us since the +first of May—came with a big batch of recruits—a +regular athlete, you know. Then after he’d +drilled awhile I nailed him for headquarters +clerk. I never knew him to be off an hour until +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +about four weeks ago. The men say another +young fella came out here one night, had a talk +with Morton, and they went out together. He +got regular permission. Nobody has set eyes +on his friend out here since that time, but Morton +got three passes to town in ten days, and +Squeers happened to want him, and gave orders +<i>he</i> should have to be consulted hereafter. ’Bout +a fortnight since, by Jove, Morton lit out suddenly +and was gone forty-eight hours, and was +brought back by a patrol, perfectly straight, +and he said he had to go on account of a friend +who had been taken very ill and was a stranger +here. Squeers let him off with a warning, and +inside of three days he begged for a twenty-four-hour +pass, and Squeers wouldn’t give it. +He went without it, by George! It was just +about the time the Prime family arrived, looking +up the boy they heard was in your regiment. +This time there was big trouble. The +patrol sent for him went directly to the lodgings +of his sick friend, and there they found him and +he laid out two of our best men for forcing a +way into the room. They told me your carriage +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +nearly ran over him the day of the review. +Then came that dam fool charge about his being +mixed up in this robbery. Then his escape +from under Billy Gray’s nose, by George, and +that’s the last of him. Canker sent a party in +to look him up at the usual place, and both +birds had flown, both, by George! The sick +man was well enough to be driven off in a carriage, +and there’s nothing further to tell as +yet.” +</p> +<p>“I wish I had known about him earlier—before +the Primes came,” said Armstrong +thoughtfully, knocking the ashes off his cigar. +“Of course you divine my theory?” +</p> +<p>“That Morton’s the missing son and heir? +Of course. Now that I’ve seen Miss Prime the +family resemblance is strong. But if he wanted +to soldier, what’s to prevent. Those tents +yawnduh are full of youngsters better educated +than I am,” and Gordon arose, tangling a +long, lean leg in the nearest campstool, which +he promptly kicked through the doorway into +the sailing fog outside. It was barely eleven +o’clock, but already the raw, wet wind was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +whistling in over the barren, sandy slopes and +dunes, and the moisture dripped in big drops +from the sloped rifles of the men marching +sturdily in from drill. +</p> +<p>“Yawnduh comes the Prime carriage now, +by George,” continued the adjutant, as he +limped to the entrance. “Ole man seems all +broke up, don’t he?” Armstrong had promptly +risen and came striding to his comrade’s side. +</p> +<p>“Naturally,” was the answer. “He had +hoped much from this visit. The boy was just +under twenty-one when he enlisted, and, as his +father’s consent was lacking, a discharge could +have been ordered. It may have been fear of +that that drove the youngster off. Where is +the carriage—and your glass?” continued the +colonel, looking about until he found a binocular. +</p> +<p>“Comin’ right down the road back of the +officers’ tents. Reckon it’s another visit of condolence +to Gray. You know I shouldn’t +wonduh if this arrest of his proved a blessin’ +in disguise for that lucky boy.” +</p> +<p>No reply coming to this observation, Gordon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +glanced over his shoulder. Armstrong was replacing +the glasses. Again the adjutant +hazarded. +</p> +<p>“I—I was sayin’ this arrest may be, after +all, the biggest kind of blessing in disguise for +that lucky Billy. <i>Yes</i>, by Jove! They’re +comin’ to his tent. <i>That’s</i> a splendid girl, ole +man!” +</p> +<p>“Miss—Prime, you mean?” calmly queried +Armstrong, striking match after match in the +effort to light a fresh cigar, his face averted. +</p> +<p>“Miss Prime I <i>don’t</i> mean,” answered Gordon, +glancing curiously at the senior officer. +“Not but that she’s a most charming young +lady and all that,” he hurriedly interpolated, +Southern chivalry asserting itself. Then with +a twitch about the lip: “By the way, ole +man, those cigars light better from the other +end. Take a fresh one.” +</p> +<p>Armstrong quickly withdrew the ill-used +weed from between his strong, white teeth, +gave it one glance, and a toss into the waste-basket. +</p> +<p>“No, I’ve smoked enough. But how can +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +they see him? How about that sentry over +Gray’s tent?” +</p> +<p>“Huh! Chief made him take it off directly +he heard of it,” grinned Gordon. “Moses! +But didn’t Squeers blaspheme!” And the adjutant +threw his head back and laughed joyously +over the retrospect. “Yes, there’s that +curly pate of Billy’s at the tent door now. +Reckon he was expectin’ ’em. There they are, +ole Prime, too. Don’t be in a hurry, colonel.” +</p> +<p>They had known each other years, these two, +and it had been “Armstrong” and “Gordon” +when they addressed each other, or “ole man” +when Gordon lapsed into the semi-affectionate. +To the adjutant’s Southern sense of military +propriety “ole man” was still possible. “Armstrong” +would be a soldierly solecism. +</p> +<p>“I am to see the General before noon,” said +Armstrong gravely, “and it’s time I started. If +you should hear of your runaway let me know. +If you shouldn’t, keep our views to yourself. +There’s no use in rousing false hopes.” With +that Armstrong turned up the collar of his overcoat +and lunged out into the mist. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span></p> +<p>Gordon watched him as he strode away, the +orderly following at the conventional distance. +The shortest way to general headquarters was +up the row of company officers’ tents in front +of the still incarcerated Billy; the longest was +around back of the mess tent and kitchen. +Armstrong took the latter. +</p> +<p>That escape of prisoners was still the talk of +camp. Men had come by battalions to see the +tunnel, observing which Canker promptly +ordered it closed up. Opinion was universal +that Canker should have released the officers +and men he had placed under arrest at once, +but he didn’t. In his bottled wrath he hung +on to them until the brigade commander took a +hand and ordered it. Canker grumblingly +obeyed so far as the sergeant and sentries were +concerned, but entered stout protest as to Gray. +</p> +<p>“I still hold that officer as having knowledge +of the scheme and aiding and abetting. I can +prove that he telephoned for that carriage,” he +said. +</p> +<p>“At least there’s nothing to warrant the posting +of that sentry at Mr. Gray’s tent, Colonel +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +Canker,” said the brigadier, with some asperity. +“Order him off at once. That’s all for +to-day, sir,” and the man with the starred +shoulders “held over” him with the silver +leaves. The latter could only obey—and objurgate. +</p> +<p>But Canker’s knuckles came in for another +rasping within the hour. The brigadier being +done with him, the division commander’s compliments +came over per orderly, and would the +colonel please step to the General’s tent. +Canker was fuming to get to town. He was +possessed with insane desire to follow up that +boarding house clue. He believed the landlady +could be bullied into telling where her +boarder was taken, and what manner of man +(or woman) he was. But down he had to go, +three blocks of camp, to where the tents of division +headquarters were pitched, and there +sat the veteran commander, suave and placid +as ever. +</p> +<p>“Ah, colonel, touching that matter of the +robbery of your commissary stores. Suspicion +points very strongly to your Sergeant Foley. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +Do you think it wise to have no sentry over +him?” +</p> +<p>“Why—General,” said Canker, “I’ve known +that man fifteen years—in fact, I got him +ordered to duty here,” and the colonel bristled. +</p> +<p>“Well—pardon me, colonel, but you heard +the evidence against him last night, or at least +heard of it. Don’t you consider that conclusive?” +</p> +<p>Canker cleared his throat and considered as +suggested. +</p> +<p>“I heard the allegation sir, but—he made so +clear an explanation to <i>me</i>, at least—and besides, +General”—a bright idea occurring to him—“you +know that as commissary sergeant he +is not under my command——” +</p> +<p>“Tut, tut, colonel,” interrupted the General, +waxing impatient. “The storehouse adjoins +your camp. Your sentries guard it. Captain +Hanford, the commissary, says he called on +you last night to notify you that he had placed +the sergeant under arrest, but considered the +case so grave that he asked that a sentry be +placed over him, and it wasn’t done.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span></p> +<p>“I dislike very much to inflict such indignity +on deserving soldiers, General,” said Canker, +stumbling into a self-made trap. “Until their +guilt is established they are innocent under the +law.” +</p> +<p>“Apparently you apply a different rule in +case of officers,” calmly responded the General, +“<i>vide</i> Mr. Gray. No further words are necessary. +Oblige me by having that sentry posted +at once. Good-morning, sir.” +</p> +<p>But to Canker’s dismay the officer of the +guard made prompt report. The sentry was +sent, but the sergeant’s tent was empty. The +colonel’s pet had flown. This meant more +trouble for the colonel. +</p> +<p>Meantime Stanley Armstrong had hied him +to General Drayton’s headquarters. The office +tents were well filled with clerks, orderlies, +aides and other officers who had come in on +business, but this meeting was by appointment, +and after brief delay the camp commander excused +himself to those present and ushered +Armstrong into his own private tent, the scene +of the merry festivities the evening of Mrs. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +Garrison’s unexpected arrival. There the General +turned quickly on his visitor with the low-toned +question: +</p> +<p>“Well—what have you found?” +</p> +<p>“Enough to give me strong reason for believing +that Morton, so-called, is young Prime, and +that your nephew is with him, sir.” +</p> +<p>The old soldier’s sad eyes lighted with sudden +hope. Yet, as he passed his hand wearily over +his forehead, the look of doubt and uncertainty +slowly returned. “It accounts for the letters +reaching me here,” he said, “but—I’ve known +that boy from babyhood, Armstrong, and a +more intense nature I have never heard of. +What he starts in to do he will carry out if it +kills him.” And Drayton looked drearily +about the tent as though in search of something, +he didn’t quite know what. Then he +settled back slowly into his favorite old chair. +“Do sit down, Armstrong. I want to speak +with you a moment.” Yet it was the colonel +who was the first to break the silence. +</p> +<p>“May I ask if you have had time to look at +any of the letters, sir?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></p> +<p>“Do I look as though I had time to do <i>any</i>-thing?” +said the chief, dropping his hands and +uplifting a lined and haggard face, yet so refined. +“Anything but work, work, morn, noon +and night. The mass of detail one has to meet +here is something appalling. It weighs on +me like a nightmare, Armstrong. No, I was +worn out the night after the package reached +me. When next I sought it the letters were +gone.” +</p> +<p>“How long was that, General?” +</p> +<p>Again the weary hands, with their long, +tapering fingers, came up to the old soldier’s +brow. He pondered a moment. “It must have +been the next afternoon, I think, but I can’t be +sure.” +</p> +<p>“And you had left them——?” +</p> +<p>“In the inside pocket of that old overcoat of +mine, hanging there on the rear tent pole,” +was the answer, as the General turned half-round +in his chair and glanced wistfully, self-reproachfully +thither. +</p> +<p>Armstrong arose, and going to the back of +the tent, made close examination. The canvas +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +home of the chief was what is known as the +hospital tent, but instead of being pitched with +the ordinary ridgepole and uprights, a substantial +wooden frame and floor had first been +built and over this the stout canvas was +stretched, stanch and taut as the head of a +drum. It was all intact and sound. Whoever +filched that packet made way with it through +the front, and that, as Armstrong well knew, +was kept tightly laced, as a rule, from the time +the General left it in the morning until his return. +It was never unlaced except in his presence +or by his order. Then the deft hands of +the orderlies on duty would do the trick in a +twinkling. Knowing all this, the colonel +queried further: +</p> +<p>“You went in town, as I remember, late that +evening and called on the Primes and other people +at the Palace. I think I saw you in the +supper room. There was much merriment at +your table. Mrs. Garrison seemed to be the +life of the party. Now, you left your overcoat +with the boy at the cloak stand?” +</p> +<p>“No, Armstrong, that’s the odd part of it. I +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +only used the cape that evening. The coat was +hanging at its usual place when I returned +late, with a mass of new orders and papers. +No! no! But here, I must get back to the +office, and what I wished you to see was that +poor boy’s letter. What can you hope with a +nature like that to deal with?” +</p> +<p>Armstrong took the missive held out to him, +and slowly read it, the General studying his +face the while. The letter bore no clue as to +the whereabouts of the writer. It read: +</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>March</span> 1st, ’98. +</p> +<p>“It is six weeks since I repaid all your loving +kindness, brought shame and sorrow to you +and ruin to myself, by deserting from West +Point when my commission was but a few +short months away. In an hour of intense +misery, caused by a girl who had won my very +soul, and whose words and letters made me believe +she would become my wife the month of +my graduation, and who, as I now believe, was +then engaged to the man she married in January, +I threw myself away. My one thought +was to find her, and God knows what beyond. +</p> +<p>“It can never be undone. My career is ended, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +and I can never look you in the face again. +At first I thought I should show the letters, +one by one, to the man she married, and ask +him what he thought of his wife, but that is +too low. I hold them because I have a mad +longing to see her again and heap reproaches +upon her, but, if I fail and should I feel at any +time that my end is near, I’m going to send +them to you to read—to see how I was lured, +and then, if you can, to pity and forgive. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Rollin.</span>”</p> +</div> + +</div> +<p>Armstrong’s firm lips twitched under his +mustache. The General, with moist eyes, had +risen from his chair and mechanically held +forth his hand. “Poor lad!” sighed Armstrong. +“Of course—you know who the girl +was?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, of course,” and Drayton shrugged his +shoulders. +</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll have to go,” and led on to the +misty light without. +</p> +<p>Over across the way were the headquarters +tents of a big brigade, hopefully awaiting +orders for Manila. To their left, separated by +a narrow space, so crowded were the camps, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +were the quarters of the officers of the —teenth +Infantry, and even through the veil of mist +both soldiers could plainly see along the line. +Coming toward the gate was Mr. Prime, escorted +by the major. Just behind them followed +Mildred and the attentive Schuyler. +But where was Miss Lawrence? Armstrong +had already seen. Lingering, she stood at +Billy’s tent front, her ear inclined to his protruding +pate. He was saying something that +took time, and she showed no inclination to +hurry him. Miss Prime looked back, then she +and Schuyler exchanged significant smiles and +glances. There was rather a lingering handclasp +before Amy started. Even then she +looked back at the boy and smiled. +</p> +<p>“H’m!” said the General, as he gazed, “that +youngster wouldn’t swap places with any subaltern +in camp, even if he <i>is</i> under charges.” +</p> +<p>There was no answer from the strong soldier +standing observant at his elbow. But when +the chief would have moved Armstrong detained +him. “One more question, General. In +case you were away and wanted something you +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +had left in this tent, you would send an aide—or +orderly, or—would an order signed by one +of your staff be sufficient?” +</p> +<p>“H’m, well—yes, I suppose it would,” said +the General. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Opinion was divided at Camp Merritt as to +whether Billy Gray should or should not stand +trial. Confident as were his friends of his innocence +of all complicity in Morton’s escape, +there remained the fact that he had telephoned +for a carriage, that a carriage had come and +that a carriage with four men, apparently soldiers, +had driven rapidly townward along Point +Lobos Avenue. It was seen by half a dozen +policemen as it shot under electric light or +gas lamp. Then there was the bundle inside +his rolled overcoat that Gray had personally +handed Morton when a prisoner. Everybody +agreed he should have sent it by orderly—everybody, +that is, except some scores of young +soldiers in the ranks who could see no harm in +it having been done that way, especially two +“Delta Sigs” in the —teenth. Then there were +the long conferences in the dark. What did +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +they mean? All things considered the older +and wiser heads saw that, as the lieutenant +could or would make no satisfactory explanation +of these to his colonel, he must to a court—or +take the consequences. +</p> +<p>“You’ve made a mess of the thing and an +ass of yourself, Billy,” was Gordon’s comprehensive +if not consolatory summary of the matter, +“and as Canker has been rapped for one +thing or another by camp, division and brigade +commanders, one <i>after</i> another, he feels that +he’s got to prove that he isn’t the only fool in +the business. You’d better employ good counsel +and prepare for a fight.” +</p> +<p>“Can’t afford it,” said Billy briefly, “and +I’m blowed if I’ll ask my dear old dad to come +to the rescue. He’s had to cough up (shame +on your slang, Billy) far too much already. I +tell you, Gordon, I’m so fixed that I can’t explain +these things unless I’m actually brought +to trial. It’s—it’s—well—you have no secret +societies at the Point as we do at college, so +you can’t fathom it. I’m no more afraid of +standing trial than I am of Squeers—and be +d——d to him!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p> +<p>“Good Lawd, youngster—you—you aren’t +quite such an ass as to suppose a court is going +to regard any schoolboy obligation as paramount +to that which your oath of office demands. +Look hyuh, Billy, your head’s just +addled! <i>I</i> can’t work on you, but somebody +must!” +</p> +<p>And Gordon went away very low in his +mind. He liked that boy. He loved a keen, +alert, snappy soldier on drill, and Billy had no +superior in the battalion when it came to handling +squad or company. The adjutant plainly +saw the peril of his position, and further consultation +with his brother-officers confirmed +him in his fears. Schuyler, the brigade commissary, +being much with the —teenth—messing +with them, in fact, when he was not dancing +attendance on Miss Prime—heard all this camp +talk and told her. Thus it happened that the +very next day when he drove with the cousins +(Mr. Prime being the while in conference with +the detectives still scouring the city for the +young deserter, who the father now felt confident +was his missing boy), Miss Lawrence +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +looked the captain full in the face with her +clear, searching eyes and plumped at him the +point-blank question: +</p> +<p>“Captain Schuyler, do Mr. Gray’s brother-officers +really consider him in danger of dismissal?” +</p> +<p>“Miss Lawrence, I grieve to say that not one +has any other opinion now.” +</p> +<p>There could be no doubt of it. Amy Lawrence +turned very pale and her beautiful eyes filled. +</p> +<p>“It is a shame!” she said, after a moment’s +struggle to conquer the trembling of her lips. +“Has—is there no one—influential enough—or +with brains enough” (this with returning color) +“to take up his case and clear him?” +</p> +<p>They were whirling through the beautiful +drive of the Golden Gate Park, passing company +after company at drill. Even as Amy +spoke Schuyler lifted his cap and Miss Prime +bowed and smiled. A group of regimental +officers, four in number, stood, apparently +supervising the work, and as Miss Lawrence +quickly turned to see who they might be, her +eyes met those of Colonel Armstrong. Five +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +minutes later, the carriage returning drew up +as though by some order from its occupants, at +that very spot. Armstrong and his adjutant +were still there and promptly joined them. +</p> +<p>Long weeks afterward that morning lived in +Stanley Armstrong’s memory. It was one of +those rare August days when the wind blew +from the southeast, beat back the drenching +Pacific fogs, and let the warm sun pour upon +the brilliant verdure of that wonderful park. +Earth and air, distant sea and dazzling sky, +all seemed glorifying their Creator. Bright-hued +birds flashed through the foliage and +thrilled the ear with their caroling. The plash +of fountain fell softly on the breeze, mingled +with the rustling of the luxuriant growth of +leaf and flower close at hand. It was not +chance that brought the stalwart soldier instantly +to Amy’s side. Her gaze was upon him +before the carriage stopped, and irresistibly +drew him. The man of mature years, the hero +of sharp combats and stirring campaigns with a +fierce and savage foe, the commander of hundreds +of eager and gallant men, obeyed without +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +thought of demur the unspoken summons of a +girl yet in her teens. There was a new light in +her clear and beautiful eyes, a flush upon her +soft and rounded cheek, a little flutter, possibly, +in her kind and loyal heart. Heaven knows +his beat high with an emotion he could not subdue, +though his bearing was grave and courteous +as ever, but about that sweet and flushing +face there shone the halo of a woman’s brave +determination, and no sooner had be reached the +carriage side than, bending toward him, she +spoke. Mildred Prime could not repress a little +gasp of amaze. +</p> +<p>“Colonel Armstrong, will you kindly open +the carriage door? I want to talk with you a +moment.” +</p> +<p>Without a word he wrenched the handle and +threw wide the door. Light as a bird she +sprang to the ground, her fingers just touching +the extended hand. Side by side they strolled +away across the sunlit lawn, he so strong, +virile, erect, she so lissome and graceful. Full +of her purpose, yet fearful that with delay +might come timidity, she looked up in his +face: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p> +<p>“Colonel Armstrong, I have heard only to-day +that Mr. Gray is in really serious danger. +Will you tell me—the truth?” +</p> +<p>Just what Armstrong expected it might be +hard to say. The light that had leaped to his +eyes faded slowly and his face lost something +of the flush of robust health. There was a brief +pause before he spoke as though he wished +time to weigh his words. +</p> +<p>“I fear it is true,” he gravely said. Then +in a moment: “Miss Lawrence, will you not +take my arm?” And he felt her hand tremble +as she placed it there. It was a moment before +she began again. +</p> +<p>“They tell me he should have counsel, but +will not heed. I have not seen him to-day. +There is no one in his battalion, it seems, whom +he really looks up to. He is headstrong and +self-confident. Do you think he should—that +he needs one?” And anxiously the brave eyes +sought the strong, soldierly face. +</p> +<p>“It would seem so, Miss Lawrence.” +</p> +<p>She drew a long breath. She seemed to cling +a little closer to his arm. Then—straight came +the next question: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>“Colonel Armstrong, will you do me a great +favor? Will you be his counsel?” +</p> +<p>He was looking directly to the front as she +spoke. Something told him what was coming, +yet he could not answer all at once. What did +it mean, after all, but just what he had been +thinking for a week, that the girl’s fresh young +heart had gone out to this merry, handsome, +soldierly lad, whom he, too, had often marked +with keen appreciation when in command of his +big company at drill. What possible thought +of hers could he, “more than twice her years,” +have ever hoped to win. She had come to him +in her sore trouble—and her lover’s—as she +would have gone to her father had he been a +soldier schooled in such affairs. Armstrong +pulled himself together with quick, stern self-command. +</p> +<p>Looking down, he saw that her eyes were filling, +her lips paling, and a rush of tenderness +overcame him as he simply and gently +answered: +</p> +<p>“Yes, and there is no time to be lost.” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></div> +<p>All these last days, it will be remembered, +Mrs. Frank Garrison with pretty “Cherry +Ripe” had found shelter at the Presidio. The +Palace was no place for a poor soldier’s wife, +and there was no longer a grateful nabob as a +possible source of income. It is doubtful indeed +whether that mine could be further tapped, for +the effusive brother-in-law of the winter gone +by had found disillusion in more ways than +one. Garrison, busy day and night with his +staff duties, had plainly to tell his capricious +wife that she had come without his knowledge +or consent, and that he could not think of meeting +the expense of even a two weeks’ stay in +town. He could not account for her coming at +all. He had left her with his own people where +at least she would be in comfort while he took +the field. He desired that she should return +thither at once. She determined to remain and +gayly tapped his cheek and bade him have no +concern. She could readily find quarters, and +so she did. The regular garrison of the Presidio +was long since afield, but the families of many +of its officers still remained there, while the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +houses of two or three, completely furnished so +far as army furnishings go, were there in charge +of the post quartermaster. From being the +temporary guests of some old friends, Mrs. +Frank and her pretty companion suddenly +opened housekeeping in one of these vacated +homes, and all her witchery was called into +play to make it the most popular resort of the +younger element at the post. Money she might +lack, but no woman could eclipse her in the +dazzle of her dainty toilets. The Presidio was +practically at her feet before she had been established +forty-eight hours. Other peoples’ vehicles +trundled her over to camp whenever she would +drive. Other peoples’ horses stood saddled at +her door when she would ride. Other peoples’ +servants flew to do her bidding. Women might +whisper and frown, but for the present, at least, +she had the men at her beck and call. Morn, +noon and night she was on the go, the mornings +being given over, as a rule, to a gallop over the +breezy heights where the brigade or regimental +drills were going on, the afternoons to calls, +wherein it is ever more blessed to give than to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +receive—and the evenings to hops at the assembly +room, or to entertaining—charmingly entertaining +the little swarm of officers with occasional +angels of her own sex, sure to drop in +and spend an hour. Cherry played and sang +and “made eyes” at the boys. Mrs. Frank was +winsome and genial and joyous to everybody, +and when Garrison himself arrived from camp, +generally late in the evening, looking worn and +jaded from long hours at the desk, she had ever a +comforting supper and smiling, playful welcome +for her lord, making much of him before the +assembled company, to the end that more than +one callow sub was heard to say that there +would be some sense in marrying, by George, +if a fellow could pick up a wife like Mrs. +Frank. All the same the post soon learned that +the supposedly blest aide-de-camp breakfasted +<i>solus</i> on what he could forage for himself before +he mounted and rode over to his long day’s +labor at Camp Merritt. Another thing was +speedily apparent, the <i>entente cordial</i> between +her radiant self and the Primes was at an end, +if indeed it ever existed. <i>She</i>, to be sure, was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +sunshine itself when they chanced to meet at +camp. The clouds were on the faces of the +father and daughter, while Miss Lawrence +maintained a serene neutrality. +</p> +<p>They were lingering in ’Frisco, still hopefully, +were the Primes. The detectives on duty +at the landing stage the evening Stewart’s regiment +embarked swore that no one answering +the description of either of the two young men +had slipped aboard. Those in the employ of +the sad old man were persistent in the statement +that they had clues—were on the scent, +etc. He was a sheep worth the shearing, and +so, while Mr. Prime spent many hours in consultation +with certain of these so-called sleuth-hounds, +the young ladies took their daily drive +through the park, generally picking up the +smiling Schuyler somewhere along the way, +and rarely omitting a call, with creature comforts +in the way of baskets of fruit, upon the +happy Billy, whose limits were no longer restricted +to his tent, as during the first week of +his arrest, but whose court was ordered to sit +in judgment on him the first of the coming +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +week. Already it began to be whispered that +Armstrong had a mine to spring in behalf of +the defense, but he was so reserved that no one, +even Gordon, sought to question. +</p> +<p>“Armstrong is a trump!” said Billy to Miss +Lawrence, one fair morning. “He’ll knock +those charges silly—though I dare say I could +have wormed through all right; only, you see, +I couldn’t get out to find people to give evidence +for me.” +</p> +<p>“Do you—see him often?” she asked, somewhat +vaguely. +</p> +<p>“Armstrong!” exclaimed Billy, in open-eyed +amaze. “Why, he’s here with me every day.” +</p> +<p>“But never,” thought Miss Lawrence, “in +the morning—when we are.” +</p> +<p>The eventful Monday was duly ushered in, +but not the court. That case never came to +trial. Like the crack of a whip an order +snapped in by wire on the Thursday previous—three +regiments, the —teenth regulars and +the “Primeval Dudes,” Armstrong’s splendid +regiment among them—to prepare for sea voyage +forthwith. More than that, General Drayton +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +and staff were directed to proceed to +Manila at once. Two-thirds of the members of +the court were from these regiments. A new +detail would be necessary. The General sent +for Armstrong. +</p> +<p>“Can’t we try that case here and now?” he +asked. +</p> +<p>“Certainly,” said Armstrong, “if you’ll send +for Canker that <i>he</i> may be satisfied.” +</p> +<p>And Canker came and listened. It was admitted +that Gray had had a long talk with the +prisoner, took him his overcoat, newspapers, +etc., but, in extenuation, they were members of +the same college society and their social standing +was, outside the army, on the same plane. +Gray deserved reprimand and caution—nothing +more. As to the carriage, he had nothing to do +with the one that drove to camp that night. A +man in the uniform of a commissary sergeant +giving the name of Foley (how Canker winced) +had ordered it at the stable and taught the +driver “Killarney.” Gray had ’phoned for a +carriage for himself, hoping to get the officer-of-the-day’s +permission to be absent two hours +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +to tell his story in person to the General, who +was dining with the department commander. +He never got the permission, and the carriage +went to the wrong camp. Lieutenant W. F. +Gray was released from arrest and returned to +duty. +</p> +<p>“I shall never be able to thank you enough,” +said he, sentimentally, to Miss Lawrence, at the +Palace that evening. They were strolling up +and down the corridor, waiting, as was Schuyler, +for Mildred to come down for the theater. +Gray’s curly head was inclined toward the +dark locks of his fair partner. His eyes were +fastened on her faintly flushing face. They +made a very pretty picture, said people who +looked on knowingly, and so thought the officer +in the uniform of a colonel of infantry, who, +while talking calmly to Mr. Prime full thirty +yards away, watched them with eyes that were +full of sadness. How could <i>he</i> see at that distance +that her eyes, clear and radiant, were seldom +uplifted to the ardent gaze of her escort, +and were at the moment looking straight at him? +How could he hear at that distance the prompt +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +response, given with an inclination of the bonny +head to indicate her meaning? +</p> +<p>“There’s where your thanks are due, Mr. +Gray.” +</p> +<p>Quite a gathering of army folk was at the +Palace that night. So many wives or sweethearts +were going home, so many soldiers +abroad, and Mrs. Frank Garrison, gay and +gracious, passed them time and again, leaning +on the arm of Captain McDonald, a new devotee, +while poor Cherry, with an enamored swain +from the Presidio, languished in a dim, secluded +corner. She had been recalled by parental +authority and was to start for Denver under +a matronly wing on the morrow. Mrs. Frank +had been bidden, and expected, to go at the +same time, but that authority was merely marital. +Up to this time not one army wife had +been permitted to accompany her husband on +any of the transports to Manila, though one +heroine managed to get carried away and to +share her liege lord’s stateroom as far as Honolulu. +The General and his staff, with a big +regiment of volunteers, were to sail on the morrow, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +the other regiments as fast as transports +could be coaled and made ready. +</p> +<p>Something in Mrs. Garrison’s gay, triumphant +manner prompted a sore-hearted woman, +suffering herself at the coming parting, to turn +and say: “Well, Mrs. Garrison, I suppose that +after your husband sails you’ll have to follow +the rest of us into grass-widowhood.” +</p> +<p>One thing that made women hate Margaret +Garrison was that she “could never be taken +down,” and the answer came cuttingly, as it +was meant to go, even though a merry laugh +went with it. +</p> +<p>“Not I! When the ship I want is ready, I +go with it!” +</p> +<p>But as she turned triumphantly away, the +color suddenly left her cheek and there was an +instant’s falter. As though he had heard her +words, Stanley Armstrong too had suddenly +turned and stood looking sternly into her eyes. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Still another expedition was destined to +start for Manila, and keen was the rivalry +among the regiments held to daily drill at San +Francisco. The rumor was current in the +camps that the next review was to decide the +matter, and that the commands pronounced to +be foremost in discipline and efficiency would +be designated to embark. The transports that +had conveyed the earlier expeditions to the +Philippines began to reappear in the bay, and +coaling and refitting were hurried to the +utmost. The man most eager to get away was +Stanley Armstrong; and if merit were to decide +the matter it was conceded among the volunteers +that in point of style and equipment the +“Primeval Dudes” “held over” all competitors, +even though every competitor believed itself +more than a match for the Dudes if actual +campaigning and fighting were in contemplation. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +Senators and members from the States +represented by the volunteers at San Francisco +led burdensome lives, for officers and men were +pulling every wire to secure the longed-for +orders for an immediate voyage to Manila, +when, all on a sudden, the hopes of all were +crushed. Spain had begged for peace. “No +more men can be sent to Manila,” said the +officials consulted, and Camp Merritt put on +mourning forthwith. +</p> +<p>But Armstrong had been studying the situation +and was not easily daunted. He was a +man whose opinion carried weight, and from +the very first he had maintained that while fifteen +or twenty thousand might be men enough +to hold Manila, fifty thousand might not be +enough to subdue at once the forces of Aguinaldo +in case they should turn upon the Americans, +which said he, placidly, they will most +certainly do before we are a year older. +</p> +<p>The Dudes, therefore, much to their disgust, +were kept steadily at work. Other regiments, +profiting by example, followed suit; but in +others still, a small proportion of their membership, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +believing as they said, that the “jig +was up,” took to lawless and unhallowed expression +of their disgust and became thereby a +nuisance to the neighborhood. San Franciscans, +who had wept copiously when others +sailed away, would have seen these patriots +sent into exile without shedding a tear. +</p> +<p>“Every man of this command will yet be +needed and yet be sent,” said Armstrong. So, +too, did the veteran division commander, and +the brigade took heart accordingly. The last +of the regulars, with the recruit detachments +for regiments already in the Philippines, had +been shipped to Honolulu, there to await orders, +and September seemed destined to go by without +a change for the better in the prospects of +the men still left in camp about the reservation. +The Primes, convinced at last that the boy they +sought was not to be found in California, had +gone to Santa Anita visiting their kindred, the +Lawrences; and Armstrong, buckling down to +hard and constant work, was striving to persuade +himself that he did not care that the +mornings no longer brought with them the carriage +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +and the fair face of that gentle girl; the +department commander himself had gone to +take a look at his new responsibilities in +Hawaii; little Mrs. Garrison still held court, +though with diminished retinue, at the +Presidio, when one day, just as October was +ushered in, there came a message from the adjutant-general +in town. Would Armstrong +drop in at the office at the first opportunity? +A matter of some importance had come up in +the general’s first letter from Honolulu, +one on which Armstrong’s opinion was desired; +and the colonel, hoping for tidings of a chance +to move even that far to the front, made immediate +opportunity and took the first car for +the Phelan Building. The adjutant-general +looked up from a littered desk as Armstrong +entered. +</p> +<p>“It is good of you to come so promptly,” said +he. “I’m in a stew, to tell the truth, and I want +your advice.” Then he tapped his bell. “Excuse +me to any one who comes for the next ten +minutes,” said he, to the attendant who entered. +“I have business with Colonel Armstrong.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></p> +<p>No sooner did the orderly vanish than the +man of the desk whirled full on the man of the +saddle. “Armstrong,” said he, “you defended +Gray and proved him innocent. What else +has Canker against him?” +</p> +<p>“Nothing that I know of—why?” +</p> +<p>“Because he’s got him in arrest again at +Honolulu, and the chief is worked up over +something. Look here—do you suppose—did +you ever hear about certain letters that were +stolen from General Drayton’s tent?” +</p> +<p>“I heard—yes. Why?” And the look of +disappointment which had appeared in the +grave face of the colonel gave way to one of +alert interest. +</p> +<p>“Just read that,” said the staff official, holding +forth a letter. “Begin there at ‘Later!’” +</p> +<p>And Armstrong read, his forehead slowly +grooving into something very like a frown. +</p> +<p>“Later. I may have to remain here several +days. Canker, with the —teenth, went ahead +before news of the protocol could stop him; but +he leaves here a number of sick—Lieutenant +Gray, charged with using threatening and insubordinate +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +language to his commanding +officer, among them; and Gray is down with +brain fever. The doctors say he is too ill to be +disturbed, and his side of the story is hard to +get at, as the boy is too flighty to talk sense. +From Canker’s own admission I learned that +he accused Gray of having knowledge of the +whereabouts of that packet of letters stolen +from General Drayton’s tent, and the youngster’s +reply was furious. Canker <i>had</i> to place +him in arrest and prefer charges. When asked +if he were sure of his ground in making so serious +an accusation, he declared he had proof positive, +at least he would have the instant they +reached Manila, and his intention was to take +the boy along with him to be tried there by +court-martial, where “no meddling outsiders,” +as he said, could buy off witnesses. It was +plain that he considered himself out of my jurisdiction, +and that he resented my staff officer’s +questions. But Dr. Morrow had appealed to +me in behalf of Gray. Said that if compelled +to continue a prisoner aboard that transport +under Canker’s tyrannical rule Gray might be +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +goaded into insanity. He was in a condition +bordering on brain fever when Morrow came to +see me, and in another day was raving. That +settled it. I ordered him taken off and placed +in hospital here, and Canker had to go without +him. But I wish you would see Armstrong +and tell him about Gray, so that I may know +the whole situation as soon as I return. Canker +evidently intended not to let us know his proofs. +He probably believes that he will find a more +credulous and complaisant listener in Drayton; +but his insinuations pointed to Gray as at least +an abettor in the theft, and he went so far as +to say that if Armstrong could be brought before +the court some very interesting testimony +could be dragged from him, and, finally, that +both Armstrong and Mrs.—well, the wife of a +staff officer who is already well on the way to +Manila—might be compelled to testify. I cannot +bring myself to repeat more that he said; +but he was in an ugly and almost defiant mood, +and I had to give him a dressing down. You +may say to Armstrong for me that I do not believe +one word of Canker’s calumny at his expense +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +or that of the lady in the case. But he +declared his intention of laying the whole matter +before General Drayton immediately on his arrival, +and it is best that Armstrong should be +prepared. As for the lady, Canker said she and +Armstrong were very close friends when they +were at Fort Stanhope ten years ago, though they +no longer meet as such. +</p> +<p>“And that brings me to another matter. I +declined positively to allow two or three +ladies, wives of officers, to go on to Manila +with Canker’s command; and they said that +as I had promised Mrs. Garrison a passage +I had no right to refuse them. Pressed for +their authority, two very estimable women told +me that, at the Presidio two days before we +sailed, Mrs. Garrison openly boasted of having +my promise to send her on the very next steamer. +Now, who is really the fabricator? I told her +positively that, with my consent, she should +not go; and she laughed delightedly, and said +she only asked as a matter of form—the whole +thing had already been settled. Just see to it +that if any more transports start before my return +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +no woman is permitted aboard except, of +course, authorized nurses. Gray is a very sick +boy to-night, but you might wire his father, +saying nothing of the arrest, that the doctors +are confident of his recovery in course of time.” +</p> +<p>Armstrong read these pages twice over before +he looked up. +</p> +<p>“How did this letter come?” he asked. +</p> +<p>“By the Salvador yesterday.” +</p> +<p>“And the next mail for Honolulu?” queried +Armstrong, rising from his chair and handing +back the folded letter. +</p> +<p>“The next mail closed an hour ago, man. +The China sails at two. No other boat for a +week. Where are you going now?” +</p> +<p>“To camp for ten minutes, then to the +Presidio.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, come over to the club and have a bite +first?” said the adjutant-general, rising and +wriggling out of his uniform coat as he did so. +“I won’t keep you half an hour.” +</p> +<p>“That half-hour may prove precious,” answered +Armstrong, already at the door. “Many +thanks all the same.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></p> +<p>“Well. Hold on. What am I to say to the +General as to Gray and those letters?” asked +the staff officer, intent upon the subject uppermost +in his mind at the moment. +</p> +<p>“You can’t say anything that will reach him +before he returns. You have just told me no +other boat would start for a week. By that +time he’ll be coming home.” And with that +Armstrong let himself out and strode to the +elevator, leaving his friend to cogitate on the +question over his luncheon. It was decidedly +that officer’s opinion that Armstrong knew +much more than he would tell. +</p> +<p>But Armstrong knew much less than he himself +believed. Hastening back to camp and ordering +his horse, he was soon speeding up the +slope to the wind-swept heights overlooking the +Golden Gate. The morning had opened fine +as silk, but by noon the sky was hidden in +clouds and the breath of the sea blew in salt +and strong. The whitecaps were leaping on +the crest of the surges driving in through the +straits and the surf bursting high on the jagged +rocks at the base of the cliffs. A little coast +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +steamer from Santa Barbara way came pitching +and plunging in from sea, and one or two venturesome +craft, heeling far to leeward, tore +through the billows and tossed far astern a +frothing wake. With manes and tails streaming +in the stiff gale, the troop horses of the +Fourth Cavalry were cropping at the scanty +herbage down the northward slope, and the +herd guard nearest the road lost his grip on his +drab campaign hat as he essayed a salute, and +galloped off on a stern chase down the long +ravine to the east, as the colonel trotted briskly +by. One keen glance over the bay beyond +rocky Alcatraz had told him the China was not +yet away from her pier. He might have to +send a dispatch by that swift steamer, and even +then it would be six days getting to Hawaii. +If the department commander should by that +time be on his homeward journey the information +would still be of interest to the general +commanding the new military district at “the +Cross Roads of the Pacific,” and of vast benefit, +possibly, to his late client, Mr. Gray. He +wondered what Canker’s grounds could be for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +saddling so foul a suspicion on the boy’s good +name. He wondered how long that poor lad +would have to struggle with this attack of fever +and remain, perhaps happily, unconscious of +this latest indignity. He wondered if Amy +Lawrence yet knew of that serious seizure, and, +if she did, what would be her sensations. +Down the winding, sloping road he urged his +way, Glencoe, his pet charger, marveling at +the unusual gait. The cape of the sentry’s +overcoat whirled over the sentry’s head and +swished his cap off as he presented arms to the +tall soldier spurring past the guardhouse. “I +envy no one who has to put to sea this day,” +said Armstrong to himself, as he turned to the +right and reined up in front of a little brown +cottage peeping out from a mass of vines and +roses, shivering in the wet wind. Half a dozen +strides took him across the narrow walk and up +the wooden steps. With sharp emphasis he +clanged the little gong bell screwed to the back +of the door and waited impatient for the servant’s +coming. There was no answer. He +rang again and still again, and no one came. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +A glance at the windows told that the white +lace curtains hung there draped as prettily as +ever. Fresh flowers stood on the window sill. +A shawl and a pillow, the latter indented as by +a human head, lay in the lounging chair on the +little porch. Another chair stood but a few +feet away. There was even a fan, though fans +in a ’Frisco summer are less needed than furs; +but nowhere saw he other sign of the temporary +mistress of the house. He went round to a side +window and rapped. No answer. Then he +turned to the walk again, and, taking the reins, +bade the orderly inquire next door if Mrs. Garrison +could be found. Yes, was the answer; +she went driving to Golden Gate Park with +Mrs. Stockman an hour ago, and Mrs. Stockman +was to leave for Los Angeles that night. +Odd! If Mrs. Garrison drove to Golden Gate +Park the easiest and best way was that along +which he came, and he had met no carriage. +In fact, not since that night at the Palace had +he set eyes on Mrs. Garrison, or until the coming +of this sorrowful news about Gray had he cared +to. From all that he heard Mrs. Frank was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +enjoying herself at the Presidio. Cherry having +gone one way and her devotee another, +Mrs. Frank speedily summoned a chum of old +garrison days to come and keep house with her +for a while, and Mrs. Stockman, whose lord +had left her at the call to duty, and gone to +Manila with his men, right gladly accepted and +much enjoyed the fun and frolic that went on +night after night in Mrs. Frank’s cozy parlor, +or the mild flirtation, possibly, in the recesses +of Mrs. Frank’s embowered porch. The last +expedition had borne off almost all the “regular” +element at the post, but had not left it +poor, for, fast as camp grounds could be made +ready for them, vastly to the disgust of the +saloon keepers and street-car magnates who had +reaped rich harvest from Camp Merritt, regiment +after regiment, the volunteers came +marching over from the malodorous sand lots +and settled down in sheltered nooks about the +Presidio. So cavaliers in plenty were still to +be had, cavaliers whose wives and sweethearts, +as a rule, were far away; and Mrs. Frank loved +to console such as were so bereft. The chafing +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +dish and Scotch and soda were in nightly request; +and even women who didn’t at all fancy +Mrs. Frank, and spoke despitefully of her +among themselves, were not slow to come in +“for just a minute,” as they said, as the evenings +wore on, and to stay and chat with various +visitors—it was so lonesome and poky over +home with the children asleep and nothing to +do. Women there were who never darkened +Mrs. Garrison’s door after the first formal calls; +but they were of those who deeply felt the +separation from all they held most dear, and +who, forbidden themselves, heard with envy +and even distress her gay assertion that she +would sail for Manila the moment the Queen +of the Fleet was ready. From what source—or +circumstance—did she derive her influence? +</p> +<p>But with the edict that no more troops should +be sent came comfort to the souls of these bereaved +ones. Transports would not go without +troops, and Mrs. Frank could not go without +transports, the journey was far too expensive. +They wished her no evil, of course; but, if they +were themselves forbidden how could they rejoice +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +that she should be permitted? They were +actually beginning to feel a bit charitable +toward her when the Queen of the Fleet herself +came in from Honolulu with the latest news. +The fifth expedition had been halted there and +put in camp. The hospital held several +officers. Billy Gray was down with brain +fever, and there had been a furious scene between +him and his peppery colonel before the +breakdown; and by that same steamer Mrs. +Garrison had got a letter that made her turn +white and tremble, as Mrs. Stockman saw and +told, and then shut herself up in her room an +entire day. Now, for nearly a fortnight, the +lovely guest had been daily hinting that she +really must go home, “dear Witchie” was surely +tired of her; and Witchie disclaimed and protested +and vowed she could not live without +her devoted friend. But then had come that +letter and with it a change of tone and tactics. +Witchie ceased to remonstrate or reprove Mrs. +Stockman, and the latter felt that she must go, +and Witchie consented without demur. +</p> +<p>In no pleasant mood Armstrong mounted +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +and trotted for the east gate. The road was +lined with camps and volunteers at drill. +Vehicles were frequently moving to and fro; +but the sentry at the entrance had kept track of +them, and in response to question answered +promptly and positively Mrs. Garrison’s carriage +had not come that way. “But,” said he, +“the wagon with the lady’s baggage did. I +saw the name on the trunks.” +</p> +<p>The colonel turned in saddle and coolly surveyed +him. “Do you mean Mrs. Stockman’s +name?” he asked in quiet tone. “How many +trunks were there?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, some of them might have had Mrs. +Stockman’s name, sir; but the two or three that +I saw were marked M. G.” +</p> +<p>This was unlooked-for news. To her next-door +neighbor Mrs. Garrison had said nothing +about going away with Mrs. Stockman, and +Armstrong had grave need to see her and to see +her at once. The train for Los Angeles did not +leave until evening. Possibly they were lunching +somewhere—spending the afternoon with +friends in town. He rode direct to headquarters. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +Some of the staff might be able to tell, +was his theory; and one of them justified it. +</p> +<p>“Did I happen to meet Mrs. Garrison? Yes, +I just saw her aboard the China.” +</p> +<p>“Aboard the China!” exclaimed Armstrong, +with sudden thrill of excitement. “D’you +mean she is going?” +</p> +<p>“Didn’t ask her. They were hustling everybody +ashore, and I had only time to give +dispatches to Purser; but she was on the deck +with friends when I came away.” +</p> +<p>People wondered that day at the speed with +which the tall officer, followed by his orderly, +clattered away down Market Street. In less +than ten minutes Armstrong was at the crowded +pier and pushing through the throng to the +China’s stage. Too late! Already it was +swung aloft, the lines were cast loose, and the +huge black mass was just beginning to back +slowly from its moorings. The rail of the +promenade deck swarmed with faces, some +radiant, some tearful. Words of adieu, fluttering +kerchiefs, waving hands, tossing flowers +were there on every side. Two officers, Honolulu +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +bound, shouted Armstrong’s name, and a +cheery good-by; but he did not seem to hear. +A gentle voice, the voice of all others he most +longed to hear, repeated the name and strove to +call attention to his gesticulating comrades on +the upper deck; but he was deaf to both. +Eagerly, anxiously, incredulously he was +searching along that crowded rail, and all on a +sudden he saw her. Yes, there she stood, all +gayety, grace and animation, stylishly gowned +and fairly burdened with roses; and it was +right at him she was gazing, nodding, smiling, +all sweetness, all confiding, trusting joy; with +just a little of triumph, too, and a tinge of sentimental +sorrow in the parting. Apparently, +it was all for him; for her blue eyes never faltered +till they fixed his gaze, and then, kiss +after kiss she threw to him with the daintily +gloved little hand, and, leaning far down over +the rail, lowering it toward him as much as +possible, she finally tossed to him, standing +there stern and spellbound, a bunch of beautiful +roses she had torn from her corsage. It fell +almost at his feet, for in his astonishment and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +rising wrath he made no effort to catch it. A +man, stooping quickly, rescued and handed it +to him. Mechanically he said “Thank you,” +and took it, a thorn pricking deep into the flesh +as he did so; and still his eyes were fixed on +that fairy form now surely, swiftly gliding +away, and over him swept the consciousness of +utter defeat, of exasperation, of dismay, even as +he strove to fathom her motives in thus singling +him out for such conspicuous—even affectionate—demonstration. +Triumph and delight he +could have understood, but not, not this semblance +of confidential relations, not at least until +he felt his arm grasped by a cordial hand, +heard his name spoken by a friendly voice, and +Mr. Prime’s pleasant inquiry: “Have you no +greeting for other friends?” Then the hot +blood rushed to his face and showed even +through the bronze as, turning, his troubled +eyes met full the clear, placid gaze of Amy +Lawrence. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Mid October. The Queen of the Fleet, the +finest transport of the Pacific service, thronged +with boys in blue at last ordered on to Manila, +lay at the wharf at Honolulu, awaiting her +commander’s orders to cast loose. In strong +force, and with stentorian voices, the Primeval +Dudes joined in rollicking chorus to the crashing +accompaniment of their band and, when +they could take time to rest, the crowd ashore +set up a cheer. The Hawaiian National Band, +in spotless white, forming a huge and melodious +circle on the wharf, vied with the musicians +from the States in the spirit and swing of their +stirring airs. “<i>Aloha Oe! Aloha Oe!</i>” chorused +the surging throng, afloat and ashore, as +wreaths and garlands—the <i>leis</i> of the islanders—were +twined or hung about some favorite +officer or favored man. The troops still held to +service in Hawaii shouted good will and good-by +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +to those ordered on to the Philippines. +The Dudes of the Queen, and the lads from the +prairies and the mountains on other transports +anchored in the deep but narrow harbor, yelled +soldierly condolence to those condemned to stay. +The steam of the ’scape pipe roared loudly and +belched dense white clouds on high, swelling +the uproar. Dusky little Kanaka boys, diving +for nickels and paddling tireless about the +ship, added their shrill cries to the clamor. +The captain, in his natty uniform of blue and +gold, stepped forth upon the bridge to take +command, and raised his banded cap in recognition +of the constant cheer from the host ashore +and the throng of blue shirts on the forecastle +head. Then arose another shout, as a veteran +officer, in the undress uniform of a general, appeared +upon that sacred bound, and, bowing +to the crowd, was escorted by the captain to the +end overlooking the animated scene below; and +then the signal was given, the heavy lines were +cast off and hauled swiftly in, the massive +screw began slowly to churn the waters at the +stern, and gently, almost imperceptibly at first, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +the Queen slid noiselessly along the edge of the +dock, to the accompaniment of a little volley of +flowers and garlands tossed from eager hands, +and a cheer of godspeed from the swarm of upturned +faces. And then there uprose another +shout, a shout of mingled merriment, surprise +and applause; for all on a sudden there darted +up the stairway from the crowded promenade +deck to the sacred perch above, defiant of the +lettered warning, “Passengers are not allowed +upon the Bridge,” a dainty vision in filmy +white, and all in the next moment there appeared +at the General’s side, smiling, bowing, blowing +kisses, waving adieux, all sparkle, animation, +radiance and rejoicing, a bewitching little +figure in the airiest, loveliest of summer toilets. +The Red Cross nurses on the deck below +looked at one another and gasped. Two brave +army girls, wives of wounded officers in the +Philippines, who, by special dispensation, were +making the voyage on the Queen, glanced +quickly at each other and said—nothing audible. +The General, lifting his cap, but looking +both deprecation and embarrassment, fell back +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +and gave his place at the white rail to the new +arrival, and colored high when she suddenly +turned and took his arm. The captain, trying +not to see her or to appear conscious of this infraction +of a stringent rule and invasion of his +dignity, grew redder as he shouted rapid orders +and swung his big, beautiful ship well out into +the stream. The guns of the Bennington +boomed a deafening salute as the Queen turned +her sharp nose toward the open sea; and almost +the last thing Honolulu saw of her human +freight was the tiny, dainty, winsome little +figure in white, waving a spotless kerchief as +in fond farewell. Once clear of the narrow +entrance the big troop ship headed westward +toward the setting sun, shook free the reins, as +it were, and, followed by less favored craft, +sped swiftly on her way, Witchie Garrison, +the latest addition to the passenger list, entirely +at home, if not actually in command. +</p> +<p>Leaning on the General’s arm an hour later +and deftly piloting that bewildered veteran up +and down the breezy deck, she came, just as +she had planned to come, face to face once more +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +with Stanley Armstrong. Well she knew that +under the escort of that exalted rank she was +safe from any possibility of cross question or +interference. Well she knew that had he heard +of her sudden determination to go to Honolulu +she could not have escaped stern interrogation, +possibly something worse; and her heart failed +her when she realized that the man who had +gauged her shallow nature years before, now +held a lash over her head in the shape of the +paper that mad vanity had prompted her to +write and send to the officer of the guard the +day that Stewart sailed. What madness it +was, indeed, yet how could she have dreamed +it would fall into the hands of the man of all +others she feared and respected—the one man +who, had he but cared, could years ago have had +her love, the man who, because he cared not, +had won her hate! And, now that he held or +had held this paper—nothing less than a forged +order in her husband’s name as aide-de-camp +to General Drayton, she could have cowered at +his feet in her terror of him, yet braved him +with smiles, sweetness and gayety, with arch +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +merriment and joyous words, quitting for the +moment the General’s arm that she might extend +to him both her little white-gloved hands. +Gravely he took the left in his left while with +the right he raised his forage cap in combined +salute to the woman and to his superior officer. +Gravely and almost instantly he released it, +and listened in helpless patience to her torrent +of playful words; but his eyes were on the General’s +face as though he would ask could he, the +General, know the true character of the woman +he had honored above all her sisterhood on +board, in thus taking her to the bridge whereon +neither officer nor man nor nurse nor army wife +had presumed to set foot on all the six days’ run +from San Francisco, as though he would ask if +the General knew just what she was, this +blithe, dainty, winsome little thing that nestled +so confidingly—indeed, so snugly—close to his +battered side, and who had virtually taken possession +of him in the face of an envious and not +too silent circle of her own sex. Truth to tell, +the Chief would rather have escaped. He was +but an indifferent sailor, and the Queen’s long, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +lazy roll over the ocean surges was exciting +in his inner consciousness a longing for cracked +ice and champagne. He had known her but +the few days the Queen remained in port, coaling +and preparing for the onward voyage across +the broad Pacific; but a great functionary of +the general government had told him a pathetic +tale the very day of his first peep at the Royal +Hawaiian Hotel, had given him a capital dinner +at that famous hostelry, whereat she appeared +in charming attire, and in a flow of +spirits simply irresistible. Her sallies of wit +had made him roar with delight; her mimicry +of one or two conscientious but acidulated +dames who had come over on the Queen, bound +as nurses for Manila, had tickled him to the +verge of apoplexy; but when later she backed +him into the coolest corner of the “lanai” with +the plash of fountain close at hand, and the +sweet music of Berger’s famous band floating +softly on the evening air, and told him how her +father had loved to talk of his, the General’s, +dash and daring in the great days of the great +war, and led him on to tell of his campaigns in +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +the Shenandoah and the West, listening with +dilated eyes and parted lips, the campaigner +himself was captivated, and she had her will. +A great senator had told him how she had +come thither to nurse a gallant young officer in +her husband’s regiment, how she had pulled +the boy through the perils of brain fever until +he was now convalescent and going on to rejoin +his comrades in Manila, and she, she was pining +to reach her husband now serving on General +Drayton’s staff. Other women were +aboard the Queen; could not General Crabb +find room for her? It is hard for a soldier to +refuse a pretty woman—or a prominent member +of the committee on military affairs. There +was not a vacant stateroom on the ship. +Officers were sleeping three or four in a room, +so were the Red Cross nurses; and the two army +wives already aboard had been assigned a little +cubby-hole of a cabin in which only one could +dress at a time. There were only two apartments +on the big craft that were not filled to +their capacity—the room occupied by that sea +monarch, the captain, and that which, from +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +having been the “Ladies’ Boudoir,” had +been fitted up for the accommodation of +the General. The piano had been wheeled +out on deck, the writing table stowed away, +and a fine new wide brass bedstead, with +dainty white curtains and mosquito bar, a +large bureau and a washstand had been moved +in, and these, with easy-chairs, electric fans, +electric lights and abundant air, made it the +most desirable room on the ship. Even Armstrong, +colonel commanding the troops aboard, +was compelled to share his little cabin with his +adjutant, and the General’s aides were bundled +into a “skimpy” box between decks. There +really seemed no place for Mrs. Garrison +aboard, especially when it was found that the +passenger list was to be increased by three, a +surgeon and two officers going forward from +Honolulu; and one of these was our old friend +and once light-hearted Billy Gray, now nearly +convalescent, but weak and, as all could see, +feverishly eager to get on to Manila. +</p> +<p>All this was explained to the senator. It +was even suggested that there was room for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +Mrs. Garrison on the Louisiana, a safe old tub, +if she was slow; but Mrs. Frank looked so +pathetic and resigned when this arrangement +was suggested that no one had the hardihood to +actually dwell upon it, and the senator said it +was a shame to think of it. With whom of +her own sex could she associate on that long, +hot voyage ahead of them? Why not transfer +some of the Red Cross nurses to the Louisiana? +Mrs. Garrison had no objections, but they had; +and the surgeon in charge made prompt and +vigorous protest. He knew Mrs. Frank, and +she knew him and did not in the least despair. +She still had a plan. There was a cozy dinner +one evening—just the evening before the departure +of the Queen, and the gallant captain +of the ship, the veteran General, the quartermaster +in charge of transportation, the member +of the senate military committee, some charming +girls,—but none so charming as Mrs. Garrison,—were +of the party. There was some sentiment +and much champagne, as a result of +which, at one <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A.M.</span>, the big-hearted sea monarch +aforementioned swore by the bones of his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +ancestors in the slimy grasp of Davy Jones that +that sweet little woman shouldn’t have to go +a-begging for accommodations on his ship. If +the General would condescend to move into his +room, by thunder, he’d sleep up in his foul-weather +den next the chart room, and Mrs. +Garrison—God bless her!—could take the General’s +room, and be queen of the ship—queen +of the Queen—queen of queens—by Jupiter! +and here’s her health with all honor! A +soldier, of course, could be no less gallant than +a sailor, especially as the captain’s room was +a bit better than the “Boudoir,” and had an ice +chest and contents that the veteran campaigner +was bidden to consider his own. The agreement +was clinched that very night before the +party broke up; and little Mrs. Frank shed +tears of gratitude upon the General’s coat sleeve +and threw kiss after kiss to the handsome sailor +as she hung over the balusters of the broad +veranda and waved them away in their swift-running +cabs, and then danced off to her room +and threw herself on the bed after a mad +pirouette about the spacious apartment, and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +laughed and laughed until real tears trickled +from her eyes, and then gave orders to be called +at seven o’clock. She meant to be up and +aboard that ship with all her luggage before +sense and repentance could come with the morning +sun—before either soldier or sailor could +change his mind. +</p> +<p>To the amaze of the women already aboard, +to the grave annoyance of Colonel Armstrong, +to the joy of poor Billy Gray, and the mischievous +merriment of several youngsters on the +commissioned list, Mrs. Frank Garrison, the +latest arrival, became sole occupant of the finest +room on the ship; and it was a bower of lilies +and tropical fruit and flowers the breezy day +she sailed away from the bay of Honolulu. +</p> +<p>No time need be wasted in telling the effect +of this “assignment to quarters.” Prolific a +source of squabble as is the custom ashore it becomes +intensified afloat, and, when coupled +with it, came a shaking up and rearrangement +of seats at table, all hope of harmony vanished +on the instant. The two brave young +army girls still retained their seats at the captain’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +table; but two most estimable young +women, Red Cross nurses, were dropped therefrom +and transferred to that of the second officer +on the port side, much to the comfort of a rather +large percentage of their sisterhood who had +regarded their previous elevation with feelings +of not unmixed gratification. Then officers +who had been seated with the General’s staff +had to vacate in favor of Mrs. Frank and Dr. +Prober and Lieutenant Billy Gray, whose +father and the chief were long-time chums, and +the Red Cross nurses who had been at the first +officer’s table fell back to that of the third. It +was every bit as good as the other, but it didn’t +sound so, and they couldn’t see it; and there +were faces sour as the product of the ship’s +baker when that evening all hands went down +to dinner, and the silence maintained, or the +ominously subdued tone of the talk, at the other +tables, was in marked contrast with the hilarity +that prevailed where sat the gray-haired, +ruddy-cheeked old chief and the laughing coterie +that listened to the fun that fell from the lips +of Witchie Garrison. Armstrong, silent and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +somber, at the captain’s right, looking forward +from time to time, saw only one face at the +General’s table that was not lighted up with +merriment; it was the face of the boy he envied, +if envy of this kind ever entered into his heart, +and he wondered as he looked at Billy’s curly +head what could have come over that glad +young life to leave so deep a shadow on his +handsome face. +</p> +<p>One night, just one week later, Armstrong’s +eyes were opened. More than once in the +meanwhile he had invited the young officer’s +confidence, and Billy, who three months earlier +had been all gratitude and frankness, protested +there was nothing on his mind. He had been +very ill, that was all. As to Canker’s charges +they were simply rot. He hadn’t the faintest +inkling what had become of the purloined letters +any more than he had of the whereabouts +of his Delta Sig friend, young Morton, now +officially proclaimed a deserter. But Armstrong +heard more tales of Witchie’s devotions +to him in his illness, and the slow convalescence +that ensued, noted how the boy’s eyes followed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +her about the deck, and how many a time he +would seek her side, even when other men were +reading, walking or chatting with her. Armstrong +looked with wonderment that was close +allied to incredulity and pain. Was it possible +that this blithe lad, who had won such a warm +interest in the heart of such a girl as Amy +Lawrence, could be forgetful of her, faithless to +her, and fascinated now by this selfish and +shallow butterfly? It was incredible! +</p> +<p>But was it? The days had grown hotter, the +nights closer, and the air between decks was +stifling when the sea rolled high and closed the +ports. Officers had taken to snoozing up on +deck in steamer chairs. By an unwritten law +the port side of the promenade deck was given +up to them after eleven at night; but the women +folk had the run of the starboard side at any +hour when the crew were not washing down +decks. Armstrong had been far forward about +two o’clock one breathless night to see for himself +the condition of things in the hospital under +the forecastle. The main deck was crowded +with sleeping forms of soldiers who found it +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +impossible to stand the heat below; so on his +return, instead of continuing along the gangway, +he decided to climb the iron ladder from +the main to the promenade deck. It would +land him at the forward end on the starboard +side. There he could smoke a cigar in peace +and quiet. It was high time everybody was +asleep. +</p> +<p>But as his head and eyes reached the level of +the deck he became suddenly aware of a couple +huddled close together in the shelter of a canvas +screen, and under the steps leading aloft to the +bridge. He knew Gray’s voice at once, and +Gray was pleading. He knew <i>her</i> tones of old, +and she was imperative, and listening with +obvious impatience, for, almost at the instant +of his arrival, she spoke, low, yet distinctly. +“Do as I say; do as I <i>beg</i> you when we reach +Manila, and then come—and see how I can reward.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +</div> + +<p>Manila at last! Queen city of the Archipelago, +and Manila again besieged! The loveliest +of the winter months was come. The +Luneta and the Paseo de Santa Lucia, close to +the sparkling waters, were gay every evening +with the music of the regimental bands and +thronged with the carriages of old-time residents +and their new and not too welcome visitors. +Spanish dames and damsels, invisible at other +hours, drove or strolled along the roadway to +enjoy the cool breezes that swept in from the +beautiful bay and wistful peeps at the dainty +toilets of the American belles now arriving by +every boat from Hongkong. All the Castilian +disdain they might look and possibly feel +toward the soldiery of Uncle Sam gave place to +liveliest interest and curiosity when the wives +and daughters of his soldiers appeared upon the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +scene; and there was one carriage about which, +whenever it stopped, a little swarm of officers +gathered and toward which at any time all eyes +were directed—that of the White Sisters. +Within the old walled city and in the crowded +districts of Binondo, Quiapo and San Miguel +north of the Pasig, and again in Paco and +Ermita to the south, strong regiments were +stationed in readiness to suppress the first sign +of the outbreak so confidently predicted by the +Bureau of Military Intelligence. In a great +semicircle of over twenty miles, girdling the city +north, east and south, the outposts and sentries +of the two divisions kept watchful eyes upon +the Insurgent forces surrounding them. Aguinaldo +and his cabinet at Malolos to the north +had all but declared war upon the obstinate +possessors of the city and had utterly forbidden +their leaving the lines of Manila and seeking to +penetrate those broader fields and roads and villages +without. Still hugging to its breast the +delusion that a semi-Malaysian race could be +appeased by show of philanthropy, the government +at Washington decreed that, despite their +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +throwing up earthworks against and training +guns on the American positions, the enemy +should be treated as though they never could +or would be hostile, and the privileges denied +by them to American troops were by the +American troops accorded to them. Coming +and going at will through our lines, they +studied our force, our arms, equipment, numbers, +supplies, methods; and long before the +Christmas bells had clanged their greeting to +that universal feast day, and the boom of cannon +ushered in the new year, all doubt of the +hostile sentiments of the Insurgent leaders had +vanished. Already there had been ominous +clashes at the front; and with every day the +demeanor of the Philippine officers and men became +more and more insolent and defiant. +Ceaseless vigilance and self-control were enjoined +upon the soldiers of the United States, +nearly all stalwart volunteers from the far +West, and while officers of the staff and of the +half-dozen regiments quartered within the city +were privileged each day to stroll or drive upon +the Luneta, there were others that never knew +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +an hour away from the line of the outposts and +their supports. Such was the case with +Stewart’s regiment far out toward the waterworks +at the east. Such was the case with the +Primeval Dudes on the other side of the Pasig, +lining the banks of the crooked estuary that +formed the Rubicon we were forbidden to cross. +Such was the case with Canker and the —teenth +in the dense bamboo thicket to the south, and +so it happened that at first Armstrong and Billy +Gray saw nothing of each other, and but little +of the White Sisters, probably a fortunate thing +for all. +</p> +<p>Ever since that memorable night on the +Queen of the Fleet, Gray had studiously avoided +his whilom friend and counselor, while the latter’s +equally studious avoidance of Mrs. Garrison +had become observed throughout the ship. +The dominion and power of that little lady had +been of brief duration, as was to be expected in +the case of a woman who had secured for her +undivided use the best, the airiest and by far +the largest room on the steamer—a <i>cabine de +luxe</i> indeed, that for a week’s voyage on an +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +Atlantic liner would have cost a small fortune, +while here for a sea sojourn of more than +double the time, under tropic skies, and while +other and worthier women were sweltering three +in a stuffy box below, it had cost but a smile. +The captain had repented him of his magnanimity +before the lights of Honolulu faded out +astern. The General began to realize that he +had been made a cat’s-paw of and, his <i>amour +propre</i> being wounded, he had essayed for a day +or two majestic dignity of mien that became +comical when complicated with the qualms of +seasickness. There was even noticeable aversion +on part of some of the officers of the Dudes +who, having made the journey from “the Bay” +to Honolulu with the women passengers, army +wives and Red Cross nurses, naturally became +the recipients of the views entertained by these +ladies. Quick to see if slow to seem to see, +Mrs. Frank had lost no time in begging one of +the young soldier wives to share her big stateroom +and broad and comfortable bed, and the +lady preferred the heat and discomfort between-decks +to separation from her friend. Then +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +Mrs. Garrison tendered both the run of her +cabin during the day and evening; suggested, +indeed, that on hot nights they come and sleep +there, one on the bed and one on the couch; and +they thanked her, but—never came. She coddled +the General with cool champagne cup when he +was in the throes of <i>mal de mer</i>, and held him +prisoner with her vivacious chatter when he +was well enough to care to talk. But, after +all, her most serious trouble seemed to consist +in keeping Billy Gray at respectful distance. +He sought her side day after day, to Armstrong’s +mild amaze, as has been said; and when +he could not be with her was moody, even +fierce and ugly tempered—he whose disposition +had been the sunniest in all that gray, shivery, +dripping sojourn at the San Francisco camp. +</p> +<p>But once fairly settled in Manila, the White +Sisters seemed to regain all the old ascendency. +Colonel Frost had taken a big, cool, roomy +house, surrounded by spacious grounds down +in Malate and close to the plashing waters of +the bay. Duties kept him early and late at his +office in the walled city; but every evening, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +after the drive and dinner, callers came +thronging in, and all Witchie’s witcheries were +called into play to charm them into blindness +and to cover Nita’s fitful and nervous moods, +now almost painfully apparent. Frost’s face +was at times a thundercloud, and army circles +within the outer circle of Manila saw plainly +that all was not harmony betwixt that veteran +Benedict and that fragile, fluttering, baby +wife. The bloom of Nita’s beauty was gone. +She looked wan, white, even haggard. She +had refused to leave Hongkong or come to +Manila until Margaret’s arrival, then flew to +the shelter of that sisterly wing. Frank Garrison +had been occupying a room under the +same roof with his General, but both General +and aide-de-camp were now much afield, and +Frank spent far more days and nights along +the line of blockhouses than he did at home. +The coming of his wife was unannounced and +utterly unlooked for. “Did I consult my husband!” +she exclaimed in surprise, when asked +the question one day by the wife of a veteran +field officer. “Merciful heaven, Mrs. Lenox, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +there was no time for that except by cable, and +at four dollars a word. No! If any doubt of +what Frank Garrison will say or do exists in +my mind I go and do the thing at once, then +the doubt is settled. If he approve, well and +good; if he doesn’t—well, then I’ve had my fun +anyway.” +</p> +<p>But it made little difference what Frank +Garrison might think, say or do when Nita’s +need came in question. It was for Nita that +Margaret Garrison so suddenly quitted the +Presidio and hastened to Hawaii. It was for +her sake, to be her counsel and protection, the +elder sister had braved refusal, difficulties, +criticism, even Armstrong’s open suspicion and +dislike, to take that long voyage to a hostile +clime. That she braved, too, her husband’s +displeasure was not a matter of sufficient weight +to merit consideration. She was there to help +Nita; and until that hapless child were freed +from a peril that, ever threatening, seemed sapping +her very life, Margaret Garrison meant +to stay. +</p> +<p>For the letter that came by way of Honolulu +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +had told the elder sister of increasing jealousy +and suspicion on the colonel’s part, of his +dreadful rage at Yokohama on learning that +even there—the very hour of their arrival—when +the consul came aboard with a batch of +letters in his hand, he had one for Mrs. Frost. +She had barely glanced at its contents before +she was stricken with a fit of trembling, tore it +in half, and tossed the fragments on the swift +ebbing tide, then rushed to her stateroom. There +she added a postscript to the long letter penned +to Margaret on the voyage; and the purser, not +her husband, saw it safely started on the Gaelic, +leaving for San Francisco via Honolulu +that very day. That letter beat the ordinary +mail, for the Queen was heading seaward, even +as the Gaelic came steaming in the coral-guarded +harbor, and a little packet was tossed +aboard the new troop ship as she sped away, +one missive in it telling Witchie Garrison that +the man whose life had been wrecked by her +sister’s enforced desertion was already in +Manila awaiting her coming, and telling her, +moreover, that the packet placed in General +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +Drayton’s hands contained only her earlier letters. +In his reckless wrath Latrobe had told +her that those which bound her to him by the +most solemn pledges, those that vowed undying +love and devotion, were still in his hands, and +that she should see him and them when at last +she reached Manila. +</p> +<p>Three mortal weeks had the sisters been there +together, and never once in that time did Nita +venture forth except when under escort of her +black-browed husband or the protection of her +smiling, witching, yet vigilant Margaret. +Never once had their house been approached by +any one who bore resemblance to the dreaded +lover. All along the Calle Real, where were +the quarters of many officers, little guards of +regulars were stationed; for black rumors of +Filipino uprising came with every few days, +and some men’s hearts were failing them for +fear when they thought of the paucity of their +numbers as compared with the thousands of +fanatical natives to whom the taking of human +life was of less account than the loss of a game +chicken, and in whose sight assassination was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +a virtue when it rid one of a foe. Already +many an officer who had weakly yielded to the +importunity of a devoted wife was cursing the +folly that led him to let her join him. The +outbreak was imminent. Any one could see the +war was sure to come—even those who strove +to banish alarm and reassure an anxious nation. +And when the call to arms should sound, duty, +honor and law would demand each soldier’s instant +answer on the battle line, then who was +to care for the women? The very servants in +each household, it was known, were in most +cases regularly enrolled in the Insurgent army. +The crowded districts in the city, the nipa huts +surrounding the wealthy homes in the suburbs +swarmed with Filipino soldiery in the garb of +peace. Arms and ammunition, both, were +stored in the great stone churches. Knives, +bolos and pistols were hidden in every house. +Through the clergy, in some instances, and +foreign residents in others, the statement was +set afloat that every American officer’s residence +was mapped and marked, that the Tagals were +told off by name—so many for each house in +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +proportion to the number of American inmates—and +day after day, awaiting the signal for +their bloody work, these native devotees greeted +with servile bows and studied the habits of the +officers they were designated to fall upon in +their sleep and slay without mercy. Even +women and children were not to be spared; and +many a woman, hearing this grewsome story, +trembled in her terror. For a time, in dread +of this new peril, Nita Frost almost forgot the +other; but not so Margaret. She scoffed and +scouted the rumor of Filipino outbreak. She +laughed at Frost, who all too evidently believed +in it, and was in hourly trepidation. He +begged that the guard at his quarters might be +doubled, and was totally unnerved when told it +might even have to be reduced. Not so Mrs. +Frank. She made friends with the stalwart +sergeant commanding; always had hot coffee +and sandwiches ready for the midnight relief; +made it a point to learn the name of each successive +noncommissioned officer in charge, and +had a winsome smile and word for the sentries +as she passed. It wasn’t Filipino aggression +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +that she feared. The men wondered why she +should so urgently bid them see that no +strangers—Americans—were allowed within +the massive gates. There were tramps, even +in Manila, she said. When the sisters drove, +their natty little Filipino team flashed through +the lanes and streets at top speed, the springy +Victoria bounding at their heels to the imminent +peril of the cockaded hats of the dusky +coach and footman, if not even to the seats of +those trim, white-coated, big-buttoned, top-booted, +impassive little Spanish-bred servitors. +The carriage stopped only at certain designated +points, and only then when a group of officers +stood ready to greet them. Not once had they +been menaced by any one nor approached by +any man even faintly resembling poor Latrobe; +and Witchie Garrison was beginning to take +heart and look upon that threatening letter as a +mad piece of “bluff” when one day the unexpected +happened. +</p> +<p>The men of the house, Frost and Garrison, +were accustomed, when the latter was at home, +to breakfast together quite early. Then the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +colonel would drive off to the Ayuntamiento in +the walled city, and Frank would mount his +pony and ride away to his long day’s duties. +Later the sisters would have their leisurely +breakfast, secure in the protection of the guard, +would give their Chinaman <i>chef</i> his orders for +the day, and send him off to make such purchases +as were possible in the now scanty +market. Then reading, writing, receiving callers +of their own sex would fill up the morning. +There would be a brief siesta after luncheon, +an hour or so on the broad veranda overlooking +the sparkling bay, then dress and the inevitable +drive. Of Armstrong they had seen nothing, +heard next to nothing. He was busy with +his men over toward East Paco. Of Billy +Gray of late they had seen rather too much. +On one pretext after another he was now forever +coming to the house, and Witchie was beginning +to wish that Canker had had his way; +but Canker had failed dismally. The witnesses +he counted on proved dumb or departed, and it +had pleased the General-in-Chief to send him +with a regiment of infantry and a brace of guns +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +to garrison an important point on an adjacent +island, and to tell him that in view of the impossibility +of his substantiating his charges +against Gray the youngster had some shadow +of excuse for his violent outbreak. Rather than +bring up a scandal it was best to drop the matter +entirely. Gray had been sent to duty with +the ——teenth before he was thoroughly well, and +a good-hearted battalion commander, taking +pity on his obvious change for the worse, had +found occasion after the first ten days at the +front to send him back to quarters in Malate, +instead of incessantly on duty along the threatened +line toward Singalon Church; and while +he seldom came in the evening when numbers +of visitors were present, the boy had a way of +dropping in between three and four, when he +could generally count on a few moments, at +least, alone with Mrs. Frank. She had nursed +him well in his slow convalescence, had made +deep impression on his boyish heart, lacerated +as he conceived it by a disappointment at home. +She had won him to her service, as she thought, +until she felt sure he was ready to do almost +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +anything for her sake, then she had put him to +the test, and he had failed her. Believing, as +she did, that the boy well knew the whereabouts +of the alleged deserter, Morton, and his +friend, Nita’s reckless lover, she had counted +on him to wring from them the letters poor +Latrobe declared he still possessed; but the +three weeks had passed without a sign, and it +was becoming evident to her that Gray had lost +track of them entirely. +</p> +<p>One brilliant afternoon, as she lay on the +broad, cane-bottomed bedstead with its overhanging +canopy of filmy netting, she drowsily +heard the corporal posting the new sentry in +the marbled corridor below, and then marching +the relief to the rear gate opening to the beach. +Nita was already up and moving about in her +room. Margaret heard the rustle of her skirts +and the light patter of her tiny feet as she sped +over the hardwood floor of the main <i>salon</i>. She +heard her throwing back the sliding shutters +that kept out the glare of the sun in the morning +hours, and knew that she was gazing out +over the tree-dotted lawn toward the gate where +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +the guard lounged through the warm afternoon. +All of a sudden, quick and stirring, a bugle +sounded over on the Calle Nueva, where the +North Dakotas had a strong detachment. The +call was repeated, and, army woman though +she was, she did not recognize it. She could +not remember ever having heard it before. +Then up the street, from the Engineer barrack, +there came thrilling echo, and there was a +sound of movement and excitement along the +dusty thoroughfare. She heard Nita calling +her name, and then the child’s quick, nervous +step along the hallway toward the stairs. +Then came a sudden stop, a gasping, wailing +cry, and, springing from her bed and to the +door, Margaret found her sister cowering before +a tall, slender man in the rough dress and field +equipment of a private soldier. With a little +packet—letters, apparently—held forth in one +hand, while the other grasped her wrist, Rollin +Latrobe stood sternly gazing at the girl shrinking +at his feet. +</p> +<p>The tableau was over in another second. +Springing up the broad marble stairs came Billy +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +Gray, the corporal of the guard at his heels, +and Latrobe saw his danger in a flash. +Throwing little Gray aside as he would a terrier, +the young athlete whirled on the stalwart +regular. There was the sound of a crashing +blow, followed by a heavy fall. The corporal +went rolling down the steps with Latrobe +bounding over the tumbling form, and the next +instant he had vaulted over the ledge of the +open window on the lower floor, and vanished +through the gateway to the beach. And now +all along the Calle Real the bugles were sounding +“To Arms!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +</div> + +<p>That was a wild day in Manila. Far over +near the Escolta somebody shot at a vagrant +dog lapping water from a little pool under one +of the many hydrants. The soldier police +essayed an arrest; the culprit broke and ran; +the guard fired; a lot of coolies, taking alarm, +fled jabbering to the river side. The natives, +looking for trouble any moment, rushed to their +homes. Some soldiers on pass and unarmed +tumbled over the tables and chairs in the +Alhambra in their dash for the open street. +A stampeded sergeant told a bugler to sound +to arms, and in the twinkling of an eye the +call was taken up from barrack to barrack, +and the news went flashing out by wire to the +extreme front. The shopkeepers hastily put +up their shutters and bolted their doors. +Cabs, carts, <i>quilez</i> and <i>carromattas</i>—even the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +street cars—were instantly seized by the soldiery +scattered all over town, and utilized to take +them tearing back to join their regiments. In +five minutes the business streets down town +were deserted. Chinese cowered within their +crowded huts. The natives, men and women, +either hid within the shelter of their homes or +fled to the sanctuary of the many churches. +All over the great city the alarm spread like +wildfire. The battalions formed under arms, +those nearest the outer lines being marched at +once to their positions in support, those nearer +the walled city waiting for orders. Foreign +residents took matters more coolly than did the +Asiatic; German phlegm, English impassibility +and Yankee devil-may-carishness preventing +a panic. But those who had families and +owned or could hire carriages and launches +were not slow in seeking for their households +the refuge of the fleet of transports lying +placidly at anchor in the bay, where Dewey’s +bluejackets shifted their quids, went coolly to +their stations and, grouped about their guns, +quietly awaiting further developments. In an +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +agony of fear Colonel Frost had bidden his +driver to lash the ponies to a gallop and go like +the wind to Malate; but the appearance of the +long ranks of sturdy infantry resting on their +arms and beginning to look bored, measurably +reassured him before he reached his home. +Once there, however, the sight of Nita, clinging +hysterically to her sister and moaning on +her bed was sufficient to determine his first +move, which was to wire for his launch to +come around to the bay shore and take them off +to the fleet. The next was to send and ask for +an officer and twenty men from the Cuartel, on +receiving which message the major commanding, +standing on the dusty roadway in front of +his men, grinned under his grizzled mustache +and said, “Frost’s got ’em again. Here, Gray, +you go over and tell him to keep his hair on, +that it’s nothing but a fake alarm.” And +Gray, glad enough of the chance to go again +into the presence of the woman who so fascinated +him, sped on his mission. He was in a +fury over his recent humiliation in her very +sight—he, a commissioned officer, tossed aside +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +like a child and outwitted by this daring intruder +in the shape of a private soldier—he and +his guard brushed away and derided by a young +fellow in some strange regiment—who had +easily escaped along the beach to an adjoining +inclosure into which he darted and was no more +seen. The streets were full of scurrying +soldiers, and it was the simplest thing in the +world for him to mingle with them and make +his way to his own command. Of course, Gray +well knew who the man must be—Nita’s troublesome +lover of whom Witchie had told him +so much. There was his chance to recover the +letters and claim the reward; but man and letters +both had escaped his grasp; and when he +pulled up, blown and exhausted after fruitless +chase, he was brought to his senses by the sight +of his own men falling in “for business,” and +he had to scamper for his sword and join +them. +</p> +<p>That was a miserable evening. Margaret +Garrison was the only member of the household +who seemed to have her wits about her and her +nerves under control, for Frank, her liege lord, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +had his duty elsewhere, and not until hours +later trotted slowly home. Margaret plainly +let Gray understand how he had fallen in her +estimation at being so easily tossed aside. A +warning finger was laid upon her lips. “Not +one word of what has happened while he is +here,” she muttered; and a nod of her fluffy +head toward the perturbed colonel told plainly +that the chief of the household really had no +place in the family councils. To the sisters +that alarm was a blessing in disguise. It was +all sufficient to account for Nita’s prostration. +To the rash and reckless lad, who, claiming to +be an orderly with a letter from the colonel, +had been passed by the gate guard to the open +stairway, it afforded ample cover for escape, +when, alarmed by Nita’s cry, Gray and the +corporal came springing to her aid. To Gray +himself it gave only a few minutes’ forgetfulness +of his trouble, for, smarting under the +sting of a woman’s only half-hidden disdain, he +would have welcomed with almost savage joy +some fierce battle with a skillful foe, some scene +in which he could compel her respect and admiration. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +He was still smarting and stung +when at last that opportunity came. +</p> +<p>Long will Manila remember the night! It +followed close upon the heels of warnings that +for weeks held every officer and man to his post +of duty. Day after day the strain increased. +The Insurgents, crowding upon our outposts in +front of Santa Mesa on the north and of Santa +Ana on the south side of the Pasig, had +heaped insult and threats upon our silent sentries, +compelled by orders to the very last to +submit to anything but actual attack rather +than bring on a battle. “The Americans are +afraid,” was the gleeful cry of Aguinaldo’s +officers, the jeer and taunt of his men. The +regulars were soon to come and replace those +volunteers, said the wiseacre of his cabinet, +therefore strike now before the trained and disciplined +troops arrive and sweep these big +boors into the sea. And on the still, starlit +night, sooner perhaps than his confederates +within the walls intended, the rebel leader +struck, and, long before the dawn of the lovely +Sunday morn that followed, the fire flashed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +from forty thousand rifles in big semicircle +around Manila, and the long-expected battle +was on. +</p> +<p>Hours after dawn, hours after the attack began, +the —teenth were in extended battle order +to the south of Malate confronted by thickets of +bamboo that fairly swarmed with Insurgents, +yet, only by the incessant zip and “whiew” of +their deadly missiles and the ceaseless crackle of +rifle fire, could this be determined; for with their +smokeless powder and their Indian-like skill in +concealment nothing could be seen of their array. +Over to the westward on the placid waters of +the bay the huge Monadnock was driving shell +after shell into the dense underbrush across the +abandoned rice fields and the marshy flats that +lined the shore. Over to the east resounding +cheers and crashing volleys, punctuated by the +sharp report of field guns, told that the comrade +brigade was heavily engaged and, apparently, +driving the enemy before them. To right and +left their volunteer supports were banging into +the brush with their heavy Springfields; and +still there seemed no symptom of weakness +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +along the immediate front, no sign of yielding. +If anything the fury of the Insurgent volleying +increased as the sun climbed higher, and all +along the blue-shirted line men grit their teeth +and swore as they crouched or lay full length +along the roadside, peering through the filmy +veil that drifted slowly across their front—the +smoke from the Springfields of the volunteers. +To lie there longer with the bullets buzzing +close overhead or biting deep into the low embankment, +sometimes tearing a stinging path +through human flesh and bone, was adding to +the nerve strain of the hours gone by. To rush +headlong across that intervening open space, +through deep and muddy pools and stagnant +ditch, and hurl themselves upon the lurking +enemy in the bamboo copse beyond, had been +the ardent longing of the line since daylight +came to illumine the field before them. Yet +stern orders withheld: Defend, but do not advance, +said the General’s message; and the +whisper went along from man to man. “There +is trouble in town behind us, and the chief may +need us there.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></p> +<p>But, as eight o’clock passed with no word of +uprising in the rear, and the cheering over +toward Santa Ana grew loud and louder, the +nerve strain upon the —teenth became well-nigh +intolerable. “For God’s sake, can’t we +be doing something instead of lying here firing +into a hornet’s nest?” was the murmur that +arose in more than one company along the impatient +line; and the gruff voices of veteran sergeants +could be heard ordering silence, while, +moving up and down behind their men, the line +officers cautioned against waste of ammunition +and needless exposure. “Lie flat, men. Keep +down!” were the words. “We won’t have to +stand this forever. You’ll soon get your +chance.” +</p> +<p>And presently it came. The cheering that +had died away, far over to the left beyond the +wooded knolls that surrounded Singalon and +Block House 12, was suddenly taken up nearer +at hand. Then crashing volleys sounded along +the narrow roadway to the east, and a bugle +rang out shrill and clear above the noise of +battle; and then closer still, though unseen in +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +the gloom of the dense thicket in which they +lay, the men of the second battalion, strung +along a Filipino trail that led away to the rice +fields, swung their big straw hats and yelled +for joy. A young officer, his eyes flashing, his +face flushing with excitement, came bounding +out from the grove at the left of the crouching +line and made straight to where the veteran +battalion commander knelt in rear of his center. +It was Billy Gray, adjutant of the third battalion, +acting that day as adjutant to the regimental +commander. The bullets whistled by +his head as he darted springingly along; and in +their joy at sight of him even old hands forgot +the reserve of the regular service and some man +shouted: “Now we’re off!” and the popular +query: “What’s the matter with Lieutenant +Gray?” +</p> +<p>At any other time, under any other circumstances +both questioner and respondents who +gleefully shouted “He’s all right,” would have +been promptly and sternly suppressed. But the +senior captain at their head well knew the excitement +tingling in the nerves of that long-suffering +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +line, and only smiled and nodded +sympathy. He saw, too, that Gray was quivering +with pent-up feeling, as the boy halted +short, saluted, and, striving to steady his eager +voice, said: +</p> +<p>“Captain, the colonel directs that you open +sharp fire on the woods in your front and occupy +the enemy there. He is about to charge +with the third battalion and drive them out of +the trenches we’ve located over yonder;” and +Billy pointed eagerly to the left front—the +southeast. +</p> +<p>The captain’s grizzled face took on a look of +keen disappointment. “You mean we’ve got +to stay here, and see you fellows go in?” +</p> +<p>“Only for a few minutes, sir. The colonel +says that for you to charge before he’s got onto +their flank would cost too many men. You’ll +get the word as soon as he’s got the works.” +</p> +<p>“Well said, Billy boy! That sounds almost +epigrammatic. Hullo! You hit? Stoop +down here, man. Don’t try to get perforated.” +</p> +<p>“My hat only,” was the answer, as the boy +stooped quickly to hide the irrepressible twitching +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +about the muscles of his lips. A Remington +had ripped from side to side, tearing a way +through the curly hair at the top of his head +and almost scoring the scalp. To save his soul +he could not quite suppress the trembling of his +knees; but, steadying himself by a great effort, +he continued: “The colonel says to commence +firing by volley the moment our bugles sound +the charge. Now I must get back.” +</p> +<p>“All right, youngster. Tell the colonel I +savey, and we’ll do our level best—only, let us +into it as quick as you can.” +</p> +<p>But Gray heard only the first part of the sentence. +He was panting when he reached his +placid, gray-mustached chief, and could only +gasp out: “The captain understands, sir.” +And then the regimental commander simply +turned to the battalion leader, standing silent +at his left in a little clump of timber—another +veteran captain grown gray as himself in long, +long years of service: +</p> +<p>“Now’s our time, old man! Pitch in! Gray, +we’ll go with him.” +</p> +<p>All along the line from right to left there +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +ran the cross-country road connecting the +broader highway, from Malate to San Rafael +and Parańaque on the west, and from West +Paco by way of Singalon to Pasay. In front +of the right wing all was swamp, morass or +rice fields. In front of the left wing all was +close, dense bamboo and jungle, save where the +broad, straight roadway led on past Block +House 13, or the narrower cart track stretched +southward, overarched in places by spreading +branches, and commanded at its narrowest path +by the swarm of dusky fighters in Block House +14. A year before the blue-shirts stormed +these forest strongholds from the south, and took +them from the troops of Spain. Now they were +compelled to turn and storm them from the +north; for, just as Stanley Armstrong said at +San Francisco, the Filipinos had turned upon +their ally and would-be friend. Aguinaldo +had bearded Uncle Sam. +</p> +<p>And while the volunteers and regulars to the +right could only remain in support, it fell to +the lot of the left wing of this brave brigade to +assault in almost impenetrable position an +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +enemy armed with magazine rifles or breech-loaders, +and entirely at home. The bugles rang +the signal; the officers in silence took their stations, +and, stepping into the narrow pathways +through the jungle, crouching along the road-ways +or crashing through the stiff bamboo, the +blue-shirts drove ahead. Two, three minutes, +and their purpose seemed undiscovered. Then +suddenly Block House 14 blazed with fire and +a storm of bullets swept the road. The earthworks +in the thickets to the right and left +seemed to be crowded with a running flame; +and down on their faces fell the foremost +soldiers, their gallant leader shot through and +through, plunging headlong, yet in his dying +agony waving his surviving men to get to +cover. Vengefully now the “Krags” opened +in reply to Remington and Mauser. The blue-shirts +struggled on inch by inch through the +network of bamboo. Still the storm swept up +the roadway, and no man could hope to face it +and live. But, little by little, the low-aimed, +steady volleys, driven in by squad and section +through the canebreak, or by company and platoon +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +across the westward swamps, told on the +nerve and discipline of the little brown men in +the bamboo. Their shots flew swift, but wild +and higher. Then a daring lad, in the rough +field uniform of a subaltern of infantry, sprang +like a cat into the fire-flashing lane, and, revolver +in hand and a squad of devoted fellows at +his heels, dashed straight at the wooden walls +ahead. In frantic haste the occupants blazed +shot after shot upon him and his heroic followers. +One after another three went down; +but, in another instant, the lieutenant leading, +they reached the block house and darted +through the open doorway, the last of its garrison +fleeing in panic before such unheard-of +daring and determination. And then came the +rush of comrades cheering down the lane, tumbling +over the earthworks and the luckless +gang that, still crouching there, held to their +position, and all the southward leading road +was ours. +</p> +<p>But, over along the next lane, a parallel +track through the timber, there had been as +stern a check; and the fury of the fire from the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +trenches in the thickets forced brave men to +cover and dropped others in their tracks. “By +God, we must have it!” almost screamed a tall +captain, pointing with his sword to the flashing +block house half hidden in the trees. “Hear +those fellows on the other road? Don’t let them +beat us. Come on, lads!” and out he darted +into the open, an instant target for a score of +Mausers. Out, too, leaped half a dozen men, +one a tall, lithe, superbly built young athlete, +with a face aflame with resolution and rage of +battle. Out leaped Billy Gray from the corner +of the cross-road, and, cheering madly, called +on others to follow. Down went the captain, +shot through the knee. Down went the nearmost +man, the tall youth who was first to follow. +Down went a brawny sergeant, who had +stopped to raise his fallen captain; but on swept +a score of others while the bamboos blazed with +the fierce volleying of the Krags. Forward in +scores now, yelling like Apaches, rushed the +regulars; and somehow, he never just knew +how it happened, Gray found himself a moment +later straddling an old field gun in a whirl of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +dust and dirt and smoke and cheers, was conscious +of something wet and warm streaming +down his side, and of being tenderly lifted from +his perch by brawny, blue-sleeved arms, given +a sip from a canteen, and then, half-led, half-supported +back to where the surgeon was +already kneeling by the tall young soldier on +whose brow the last dew was settling, on whose +fine, clear-cut face the shadow of the death +angel’s wings was already traced. The poor +fellow’s eyes opened wearily as he sipped the +stimulant pressed upon him by eager, sympathetic +hands, and glanced slowly about as +though in search of some familiar face; and so +they fell on those of Billy Gray, who, forgetful +for the moment of his own hurt, threw himself +by the stranger’s side and seized his clammy +hand. A half smile flitted over the pale face, +the other hand groped at the breast of his blue +shirt and slowly drew forth a packet, stained +and dripping with the blood that welled slowly +from a shothole in the broad white breast. +“Give to—General Drayton—Promise,” he +gasped, and pushed it painfully toward Billy +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +Gray. Then the brave eyes closed, the weary +head fell back; and Gray, staring as though in +stupefaction into the placid face, found himself +drooping, too, growing dizzy and faint and +reeling, but still holding on to his trust. +</p> +<p>“Don’t some of you know him?” asked the +surgeon. “He’s past helping now, poor lad. +Here, you drink this, Billy;” and he placed a +little silver cup at Gray’s pallid lips. +</p> +<p>“He came a-runnin’ from over at Block +House 12 with a note from division headquarters +just as we went in,” said a veteran sergeant, +drawing the back of a powder-stained +hand across his dripping forehead, then respectfully +stepping back as a young officer bent +down and glanced at Gray. +</p> +<p>“Much hurt, Billy, old man? No? Thank +God for that! Look at who? Where? Why, +God of heaven, it’s Pat Latrobe! Oh, Pat! +Pat! dear old boy—has it come to this!” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>In the fortnight of incessant action that followed +the mad attack of that starlit Sunday +morning there was no place for Billy Gray. +Sorely wounded, yet envied by many a fellow +soldier for the glowing words in which the +brigade commander praised his conduct and +urged his brevet, the boy had been carried back +to the great reserve hospital at Malate. The +breezy wards were filled with sick or wounded, +and certain of the rooms of the old convent +once used for study and recitation had been set +apart for officers. There were three cots in the +one to which they bore him, and two were +already occupied. Even in his pain and weakness +he could hardly suppress a cry of dismay; +for there, with his arm bandaged and in splints, +his face white from loss of blood, his eyes closed +in the sleep of utter exhaustion, lay Stanley +Armstrong. Time and again the boy’s heart +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +and conscience had rebuked him for the +estrangement that had arisen between him and +this man who had proved his best friend. +Time and again he had promised himself that +he would strive to win back that friendship; but +well he knew that first he must reinstate himself +in Armstrong’s respect; and how could he +hope for that so long as he surrendered to the +fascinations that kept him dangling about the +dainty skirts of Witchie Garrison? Oddly +enough the boy had hardly bothered his head +with any thought of what Frank Garrison +might think of his attentions or devotions, +whatever they could be called, to this very captivating +and capricious helpmate. When a +husband is so overwhelmed with other cares or +considerations that he never sees his wife from +morn till night, society seems to correspondingly +lose sight of him. Down in the depths of his +heart the boy was ashamed of himself. He never +heard Armstrong mentioned that he did not +wince. He knew and she knew that, coming +suddenly upon them as Armstrong had that +tropic night on the Queen, he must have heard +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +her words, must have realized that some compact +or understanding existed between them, +which neither Gray nor Mrs. Frank could palliate +or explain. It had not needed that episode +to tell her that Armstrong held her in contempt; +and yet, when they chanced to meet, she +could smile up into his eyes as beamingly, as +guilelessly, as though no shadow of sin had ever +darkened her winsome face. But not so Gray. +He moaned in secret over the loss of a strong +man’s confidence and esteem. He longed to +find a way to win it back. He had even +thought to go to the colonel with his trouble, +make a clean breast of it, tell him the truth—that +he had fallen deeply, as it was possible for +him to fall, in love with Amy Lawrence; had +hoped his love was returned; had found it was +not—that she had only a frank, friendly, kindly +interest in him; and that, wounded and stung, +he had fretted himself into a fever at Honolulu, +aided by Canker’s aspersions, and then—well—any +man is liable, said Billy to himself, to +get smitten with a woman who tenderly and +skillfully nurses him day after day; and that’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +just what Witchie Garrison did. But somehow +the opportunity to tell him never seemed +to come; and now, now that Armstrong and +himself were thus thrown together with the +prospect of being in the same room day and +night for the best of the month, a third officer, +a stranger, lay there, too, and in his presence +or hearing any confidences would be impossible, +even if Armstrong encouraged them, which he +probably would not. In this embarrassment +Billy’s wish was that the colonel were fifty +miles away. It was fate and a hard one, +thought he, that brought him there—an ever-present +reproach. It was luck of the worst +kind that they should be confronted under such +circumstances, since neither could retreat. He +submitted in anxious silence to the keen, quick +examination of the skillful surgeon in charge +and to the re-dressing of his wound. He could +have been proud and happy but for that shadow +on his life, of which Armstrong’s presence would +so constantly remind him. He could not even +think how his dear old dragoon daddy would +rejoice in the congratulations that would surely +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +greet him when the story of the brave dash of +the —teenth, Billy among the foremost, should +reach the States. He could not even dream how +it might affect her—Amy Lawrence. He was +beginning to be ashamed now in this presence +to think how that other—how Margaret Garrison +might be impressed, forgetting that, to the +army girl who has lived long years on the +frontier, tales of heroism are the rule, not the +exception. He wondered how long it could be +before she would come to him to bring him +comfort. Surely by this time she knew that +he had been seriously, painfully wounded. He +did not know, however, that at the very first +sound of battle Frost had bundled the sisters +aboard his launch and steamed away to the +transports. Yet, what comfort could her visit +bring to him with that stern censor lying there, +seeing and hearing all? Billy Gray that Monday +night could almost have wished that Armstrong’s +slumber might be eternal, never +dreaming that before a second Monday should +come he would thank Heaven with grateful +heart for Armstrong’s presence, vigilance and +intervention. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p> +<p>In three days the colonel was able to sit up. +Within the week he was permitted to take air +and exercise in the spacious court of the old +college, his sword arm in its sling. But Gray +and the young officer of volunteers were too +seriously wounded to leave their pillows. The —teenth +had occupied a new line far south of +the old one; but, one at a time, several of Billy’s +brother officers had dropped in to see him and +tell him regimental news; and one of them, the +young West Pointer who had broken down at +sight of the dying face that stirring Sunday +morning, told him of Latrobe’s soldier funeral +and of General Drayton’s presence and speechless +grief; and Billy’s hand groped beneath the +pillow for that little blood-stained packet still +undelivered. He had promptly caused the information +to be conveyed to the veteran commander +that it was his own lost nephew who +had died his soldier death in front of the firing +line; but the packet still remained in his hands; +and even before the tiny thermometer confirmed +his views, the keen eye of the surgeon saw that +something had heightened Billy’s fever that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +day; and so, when just at sunset there came +driving into the court the most stylish equipage +in all Manila, and Mrs. Garrison fluttered up +the broad stairway and confidently asked to be +announced to Mr. Gray, the steward in charge +of the floor was very, very sorry, but—the doctor +had given instructions that no more visitors +should see the young gentleman that day. +Mrs. Frank smiled indulgently, and asked for +the doctor himself, and beamed on him with all +her witchery and begged for just a few words; +but the suave, placid, yet implacable doctor said +he, too, was sorry—sorry that Mr. Gray was +not able to see any one else, but such was the +case. Mrs. Garrison said she thought if Mr. +Gray knew that it was—but perhaps Dr. Frank +didn’t know it was she who had nursed Mr. +Gray so assiduously at Honolulu. Dr. Frank +did know that and more; but he did not say so; +neither did he yield. There were tears in her +eyes as she sprang into her carriage again; but +they were tears of anger and defeat. She +dashed them away the very next instant and +smiled joy and congratulation, even adulation, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +at sight of the tall, stalwart officer, his arm in +a sling, who stood the center of a staring group +as her carriage flashed by. She would have +ordered stop; but while the rest of the party +had gazed as they lifted their caps, Armstrong’s +uninjured hand performed its duty, his cap had +been lifted with the others, but not so much as +a glance went her way; and Margaret Garrison, +bitter in spirit, drove on down past the old +cuartel to her luxurious quarters where Nita, +a piteous shadow of the “sweet girl graduate” +of the year before, was awaiting her coming. +With the Insurgents’ retreat and the advance +of the American lines there had been a gradual +return of the refugees among the transports; and +Frost had finally brought his birdling back to +shore; but Nita dare not drive, she said, for +fear of again seeing those stern, reproachful +eyes. The guard at the gate had received orders +to admit no more of the rank and file, even +when they came as messengers; and so the child +was safe, said Margaret. As for herself, she +<i>must</i> drive, she <i>must</i> see Will Gray. +</p> +<p>But the instant she re-entered the house Mrs. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +Garrison knew that during her brief absence +some new trouble had come. Good heavens, +could she never leave Nita’s side that harm did +not befall her! At the head of the broad flight +of stairs stood her brother-in-law, a black frown +on his brow. +</p> +<p>“Go in and do what you can for her,” he +briefly said. “I thought—she’d be glad to +know that—that—fellow would trouble her no +more.” +</p> +<p>“That fellow?” she gasped. “You mean——” +</p> +<p>“I mean—Yes—Latrobe—killed and buried +a whole week ago.” +</p> +<p>“And you told <i>her</i>!” she cried, clinching her +little hands in impotent wrath. “You—brute!” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Another week rolled by. The tide of battle +had swept inland and northward; and all eyes +were on the plucky advance of MacArthur’s +strong division, while far out to the south and +east the thinned and depleted lines of Anderson +held an insurgent force that forever menaced +but dare not attack. The Primeval Dudes, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +sorely missing their calmly energetic colonel, +had drifted into a war of words with their +nearest neighbors on the firing line, a far Western +regiment gifted with great command of +language and small regard for style. The latter +had crowed mightily over their more rigorously +disciplined comrades because of the compliments +bestowed on them in an official report, +wherein the Dudes received only honorable +mention. It was Captain Stricker of the volunteers who +had led the dash on the rebel +works across the Tripa to the left of Blockhouse +12. It was their Sergeant Finney who whacked +a Filipino major with the butt of his Springfield, +and tumbled out of him the batch of reports +and records that gave the numbers and +positions of every unit of Pilar’s division on +the southward zone. It was their Corporal +Norton who got the Mauser through the +shoulder just as, foremost in the rush, he bayoneted +the last Tagal at the Krupp guns in the +river redoubt. It was his devoted bunky, Private +Latrobe, who volunteered to carry the +division commander’s dispatch across the open +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +rice field and the yawning ditches that separated +the staff from the rest of the charging —teenth, +and who died gloriously in the rush on +the rebel works. Man after man of the woolly +Westerners had been referred to by name while, +but the Dudes had nothing to show but their +wounded colonel’s modest report that “where +every officer and man appeared to do his whole +duty it would be unjust to make especial mention +of even a limited few.” The Dudes were +getting hot over the taunts of the “Toughs,” as +some one had misnamed their neighbors; and +one night when there was more or less interchange +of pointed chaff in lieu of fight with a +common foe, there was heard a shrill voice +from the flank of the rifle pit nearest the Westerners, +and what it said was repeated in wonderment +over the brigade before the Dudes were +another day older. +</p> +<p>“Well, dash your thievin’ gang! We made +our record for ourselves anyhow. We didn’t +have to rely on any dashed deserters from the +regulars—as you did.” +</p> +<p>And that was why Sergeant Sterne, of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +Dudes, was sent for by the field officers of both +regiments the following morning and bidden to +explain, which he did in few words. He was +ready to swear that the wounded Corporal Norton +was the very same young man he saw in +the adjutant’s office of the —teenth Regulars at +Camp Merritt, and was then called Morton. +And that evening the veteran sergeant major of +the —teenth was bidden to report at the reserve +hospital in Ermita, close to the Malate line, was +conducted to the bedside of a pallid young +soldier whose ticket bore the name of Norton, +and was asked to tell whether he had ever seen +him before. +</p> +<p>“I have, sir,” said the veteran, sadly and +gravely. “He is a deserter from the —teenth. +His name on our rolls was Morton.” And that +night Colonel Armstrong cabled to “Primate,” +New York, the single word “Found.” Nor +was it likely the lad would soon be lost again, +for a sentry with fixed bayonet stood within +ten feet of his bed with orders not to let him +out of his sight a second. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Garrison appeared at the hospital that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +very evening and heard of the episode, and +reached Billy Gray’s bedside looking harassed, +even haggard. During the past three days she +had been accorded admission, for Gray was so +much improved there was no reason to longer +forbid; but on each occasion the wounded volunteer +officer and the brace of attendants +present had precluded all possibility of confidential +talk. She must bide her time. Gray +would be up in a few days, said the doctor; and +then nothing would do, said Mrs. Garrison, but +he must be moved to their big, roomy, lovely +house on the bay side, and be made strong and +well again—made to give up those letters, too, +thought she; for she had wormed it out of a bystander +that a packet of some kind had been +given by the dying soldier to the lieutenant, +and she well knew what it must be. She had +even penned him a little note, since not a +whisper could be safely exchanged, and headed +it “Give this back to me the moment you have +read it.” In it she reminded him of his promise, +and—did he need to be reminded of hers? +She knew that packet of Nita’s letters had been +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +intrusted to his care. She assured him she had +it straight from the surgeon who attended both +Latrobe and himself, and they must reach the +hands of no man on earth, but must come to +her. Would he not give them at once or tell +her where she could find them? +</p> +<p>He gave back the note, but closed his eyes +and turned away. In the presence of Armstrong +day after day, and in the recollection of +Latrobe’s dying face and the last parting touch +of his stricken hand, Gray’s eyes were opening +to his own deplorable weakness. She plainly +saw her power was going, if not gone. He had +wrapped a silk handkerchief about the packet +and still kept it, with his watch and purse beneath +his pillow. He would not tell her where +it lay. She smiled archly for the benefit of the +attendant; but her eyes again eagerly claimed +a look from his, her lips framed the word “to-morrow.” +</p> +<p>But neither on that morrow nor yet the next +day came her opportunity. The gallant fellow +who had lain there for days, dumb and patient, +but a barrier to her plans, had taken a turn for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +the worse, and she was again denied admission. +Then came the tidings that the barrier was removed, +the long fight was over; and the heartless +woman actually rejoiced. Now at last she +could talk to Will Gray; and when midnight +came she knew that now at last she must, for +Frank Garrison, worn and weary, returning +late from the front, briefly announced that +General Drayton purposed visiting the hospital +the following afternoon, and long before noon—long +before visiting hours, in fact, she was +there with flowers as winsome as her smile, and +some jelly as dainty as her own fair hands. +She was there, and the instant the hour sounded +was ushered in, and Billy Gray, propped on his +pillows, was writing to his father, and alone. +No time was to be lost. Any moment the attendant +might return. She threw herself on +her knees beside the homely, narrow cot, seized +his hand in hers, and looked him in the face. +“Where are they, Will?” she pleaded. “Quick! +I must have them now!” But well she realized +that the spell was broken—that the old fascination +had died its death. Then it was useless +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +to hint at love; and in a torrent of impassioned +words she bade him think of all he owed +her, appealed to his sense of gratitude and +honor, and there, too, failed, for, admitting all +she claimed, he clumsily, haltingly, yet honestly +told her he saw now that it was all for an +object, all done in the hope that he might become +her instrument for the recovery of those +compromising letters; and now that fate had +delivered them into his hands he was bound by +honor and his promise—unheard, unspoken perhaps, +but all the same his promise—to the dead +to give them to General Drayton. +</p> +<p>Then rising in fury and denunciation, she +played her last trump. Trembling from head +to foot, pale with baffled purpose and with +growing dread, she bent over him, both hands +clinched. +</p> +<p>“You mad fool!” she cried. “Do you know +what I can do—will do—unless you give them +to me here and now? As God hears me, Will +Gray, I will give that other packet to General +Drayton myself and swear that Colonel Canker +was right—that you <i>were</i> the thief he thought +you, and that I got those letters from you.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></p> +<p>For a moment she stood there, menacing, at +his bedside, looking down in almost malignant +triumph on his amazed and incredulous face; +and then, with an awful fear checking the beat +of her heart and turning her veins to ice, she +grasped at the flimsy framework that supported +the netting over the cot, and stood swaying and +staggering, her eyes fixed in terror on the man +in the uniform of a colonel, who, quietly entering, +stood between her and the door, two papers +in his half-extended hand—a man whose voice, +long and too well known, cut her to the very +quick as she heard, in calm and measured tone +the words: +</p> +<p>“Mrs. Garrison, here are two reasons why +you will do nothing of the kind. Shall I hand +these to General Drayton—or to your husband?” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p>The long wait for the coming of the big +transports with the regulars was over. For the +first time in history America was sending her +soldiery past the pyramids and through the +Indian sea, landing them, after forty days and +nights of voyaging, upon the low, flat shores +that hem Manila Bay, and shoving them out +to the hostile front before their sea-legs could +reach the swing and stride of the marching +step; yet, to all appearance, as unconcernedly at +home as though they had been campaigning in +the Philippines since the date of their enlistment. +This, to be sure, in the case of more +than half their number, would have given them +scant time in which to look about them, since +raw recruits were more numerous than seasoned +men. But no matter what may be his +lack of drill or preparation the average Anglo-Saxon +never seems to know the time when he +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +doesn’t know how to fight. So, with all the +easy assurance of a veteran, our Yankee “Tommies” +wriggled into their blanket rolls and +trudged away to the posts assigned them; and +once more the army assumed the aggressive. +</p> +<p>There were changes in the composition of the +forces even before the move began. The Dudes +and the “Toughs” parted company; and the +former, with Stanley Armstrong once more +riding silent at their head, joined forces with +Stewart’s riddled regiment up the railway +toward Malolos. Colonel Frost had succeeded +in convincing the surgeons that he would be +as out of place as his name itself in such +a clime and climate, and was in daily expectation +of an order home. Billy Gray, mending +only slowly, had been sent to Corregidor, +where the bracing breezes of the China +Sea drove their tonic forces through his lungs +and veins, and the faintly rising hue of coming +health back into his hollow cheeks. The boy +had been harder hit than seemed the case at +first, said the fellows of the —teenth; but the +wise young surgeon of the “Second Reserve” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +and a grave-faced colonel of infantry could have +told of causes little dreamed of in the regiment—were +either given to telling the half of what +he knew. +</p> +<p>That something most unusual had occurred +in the room of Mr. Gray the day that the sad-faced, +kind old general visited the hospital at +least half a dozen patients could have told; for +an attendant went running for one of the women +nurses, and the doctor himself hurried to +the scene. It was on his arm that, half an +hour later, Mrs. Garrison slowly descended the +stairs, her flimsy white veil down, and silently +bowed her thanks and adieux as the doctor +closed the door of her carriage and nodded to +the little coachman. It was the doctor who +suggested to Colonel Frost that Manila air was +not conducive to his wife’s recovery, and recommended +Nagasaki as the place for her recuperation +until he could join her and take her +home. The Esmeralda bore the White Sisters +over Hongkong way within a week; and they +left without flourish of trumpet, with hardly +the flutter of a handkerchief; for, since the battle +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +of the 5th of February, neither had been +seen upon the Luneta. Their women friends +were very few; the men they knew were mainly +at the front. The story got out somehow that +Garrison had asked to be relieved from further +duty as aide-de-camp, and returned to duty with +his regiment, and that Drayton would not have +it. The General’s manner toward that hard-working +staff officer, though often preoccupied +as of old, grew even kinder. He did not see +the sisters off for China, he was “far too busy” +was the explanation; but he offered Garrison a +fortnight’s leave, and urged his taking it, and +was obviously troubled when Garrison declined. +“You need rest and the change of air more +than any man I know,” said he; but Garrison +replied that change of scene and air would not +help him. +</p> +<p>There were two young fellows in khaki uniforms +landed from the hospital launch on the +back trip from Corregidor one warm March +day. One wore the badge of a subaltern of the —teenth +Regulars, the other the chevrons of a +corporal and the hatband of a famous fighting +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +regiment of volunteers; yet the same carriage +bore them swiftly through the sentineled streets +of the walled city, and the guards at the Ayuntamiento +sprang to their arms and formed ranks +at sight of it, then dispersed at the low-toned +order of its commander when it was seen that, +instead of stopping at the curb and discharging +an elderly general officer, it whirled straight by +and held two youths in field uniform. +</p> +<p>“One of ’em’s young Gray, of the —teenth; +he that was hit in the charge on the Pasay +road,” said the officer of the guard to a comrade. +“But who the devil’s the other? He had +corporal’s chevrons on. Some fellow just got +a commission, perhaps.” And that was the +only way the soldier could account for a corporal +riding with a commissioned officer in a general’s +carriage. They had a long whirl ahead +of them, these two; and the corporal told Gray, +as he already had the General and Colonel +Armstrong, much of the story of his friendship +for “Pat” Latrobe, of that poor fellow’s illness +at San Francisco, and all the trouble it cost his +friend and chum. There was a strong bond +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +between them, he explained; and the blush of +shame that stole up in the face of the narrator +found instant answer in that of Billy Gray. +Determined to see service at the front and not +return to punishment in his regiment, never +dreaming that, in quitting a corps doomed apparently +to inaction at home, and joining one +going straight to the enemy’s country, he was +committing the grave crime of desertion, +“Gov.” Prime had spoken to some men in +Stewart’s regiment and was bidden to come +along and fetch his friend; for they were just as +ignorant as he. Having still considerable +money “Gov.” had bought civilian clothes, and +all the supplies they needed while about town, +and hired a boat that rowed them, with certain +items contraband of war, to the dark side of +the transport as nightfall came; and they were +easily smuggled aboard and into uniform, and +then, during the few days’ stay at Honolulu, +were formally enlisted and no embarrassing +questions asked. +</p> +<p>And now poor Pat was gone and Prime’s +father had been cabling for him to return home; +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +but there was that awkward matter about the +desertion. General Drayton was trying to have +it straightened out at Washington; for he had +been kindness itself the day of his visit to the +hospital, where almost his first act had been to +seek out the wounded young soldier who had +been his beloved nephew’s boon companion, and +at one time sole support. The sentry was relieved +of his surveillance, and Corporal Norton +transferred to Corregidor to recuperate; and +now that both lads were well on the road to +recovery, Drayton had sent for them. Strictly +speaking, some one should have seen to it that +Corporal Norton of the Volunteers was shifted +back to Private Norton of the —teenth, and the +chevrons stripped from his sleeves; but no one +had cared to interfere where the worsted was +concerned, especially as the boy had won such +praise for bravery at Concordia Bridge. So +there the chevrons stood when the two were +ushered into the presence of the gray-haired +chief; and he arose, and stepping forward, held +out a hand to each. +</p> +<p>“I want you, boys,” said he, “to be ready to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +take the next transport home. The doctors say +you need a sea voyage, Gray; so there is the +order. The doctors say your father needs you, +Prime; and the record will be duly straightened +out in Washington—the charge of desertion, no +doubt, will be removed. It’s a matter of influence. +To-night you dine with me here; and I +have asked your good friend, Colonel Armstrong, +to come.” +</p> +<p>Again the blood rose guiltily to Billy’s +cheek. Not yet had he made his peace with +his conscience, and that valued counselor and +invaluable friend from whose good graces he +seemed to have fallen entirely. Not once had +opportunity been afforded in which to speak +and open his heart to him. As for writing, +that seemed impossible. Billy could handle +almost any implement better than a pen. But +even in the few minutes left him in which to +think he knew that now at least he must “face +the music,” like the man his father would have +him be, even though it took more nerve than +did that perilous dash on the Tagal works that +Sunday morning. Billy would rather do that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +twice over than have to face Armstrong’s stern, +searching eyes, and hear again the cold, almost +contemptuous tone in which the colonel said to +him the day the doctor led his vanquished and +hysterical charmer from the room: “Don’t try +to thank, man, try to <i>think</i> what you risk—what +you deserve to lose—for putting yourself +in the power of such a woman.” +</p> +<p>From that day until this, here on the banks +of the swift-running Pasig, they had not met at +all; and it seemed to Gray as though Armstrong +had aged a year. There was a lump in +his throat as he went straight up to the colonel, +his blue eyes never flinching, though they +seemed to fill, and bravely spoke. “Colonel +Armstrong, I have an explanation that I owe to +you. Will you give me a few minutes on the +gallery?” +</p> +<p>“Certainly, Gray,” was the calm reply; and +the youngster led the way. +</p> +<p>It was a broken story. It told of his desperation +and misery through Canker’s persecution, +of his severe illness, then of the utter weakness +and prostration; then <i>her</i> coming, and with her +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +comfort, peace, reassurance, gradual return to +health, and with that, gradual surrender to +his nurse’s fascinations. Then her demand +upon him, her plea, her final insistence that he +should prove his gratitude and devotion by +getting for her those dangerous letters, and his +weakness in letting her believe he could and +would do so. That was the situation when +they went on to Manila; and Armstrong knew +the rest—knew that but for his timely aid she +might have triumphed over his repentance; but +Armstrong had come, had vanquished her and +poor Latrobe’s last wishes were observed. The +fateful packet containing the three letters that +were most important was placed in his uncle’s +trembling hand. +</p> +<p>“But how was it—what was it that so utterly +crushed her?” asked Billy, when the colonel +had once more extended his hand. +</p> +<p>“The evidences of her own forgery, her own +guilt,” said Armstrong gravely. “One was +the order she wrote in excellent imitation of +her husband’s hand and signature, authorizing +the changing of guard arrangements on the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +wharf the evening Stewart sailed. The other +was a note in pencil, also purporting to come +from him, directing old Keeny—you remember +the General’s Irish orderly—to search for a +packet of letters that had come by mail, and +must be in the general’s tent, either about his +desk or overcoat, and to bring them at once to +room number so and so at the Palace. Of +course neither the General nor Garrison was +there when he arrived with them; but she was, +and with all her fascinations. She got the Irishman +half drunk and told him a piteous story +and made him swear he’d never tell the General +or anybody. If questioned he could plead +he had gone out, and—“got a little full with the +boys.” She gave him money—a big bit, too; +and he got more than full. “The very vehemence +of his denials made me suspect him,” +said Armstrong; “but he was firm when examined.” +The General never required him to remain +at the tent at night. He could go to town +any evening he wished; and to cover his appearing +at the Palace where the General long +had a room, and where he was well known, he +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +could say he was only in to have a word with +one of the housemaids, and to give Mrs. Garrison +a handkerchief one of the ladies must have +dropped. But one thing she failed in—getting +the letter back. Keeny had left it at camp in +the pocket of his old blouse, and when he sobered +up and all the questions were asked he hung +onto it in case the truth came out, in order that +he might save himself from punishment. But +it broke him—he got to drinking oftener, and +the General had to send him to his regiment; +and then when we heard of Canker’s charge +against you I saw the way to wring the truth +out of him. He worshiped your father, as did +every Irish dragoon that ever rode under him, +and I told him you were to be brought to trial +for the crime. Then he broke down and gave +the truth—and her penciled order—to me.” +</p> +<p>In the silence that followed the soldier of +forty and the lad of only twenty-one sat looking +gravely into each other’s face. It was +Armstrong who spoke again: +</p> +<p>“Gray, it was manly in you to tell me your +story and your trouble. I could help you here; +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +but—who can help you when you have to tell +it—next time?” +</p> +<p>“Next time?—father, do you mean?” queried +Gray, a puzzled look in his blue eyes. “I +hadn’t thought, do you know, to worry dear +old dad—unless he asked.” +</p> +<p>Armstrong’s grave face grew dark: “You +ought to know what I mean, Gray. This story +may come up when least you think for, and—would +you have it told Miss Lawrence before +she hears it from you?” +</p> +<p>“Miss Lawrence,” answered Billy, flushing, +“isn’t in the least interested.” +</p> +<p>“Do you mean that you are not—that you +were not engaged to her?” The colonel had +been gazing out over the swirling river; but +now, with curious contraction of brows, with a +strong light in his eyes, he had turned full on +the young officer. +</p> +<p>“Engaged to her! Do you suppose I could +have been—been such an ass if <i>she</i> would have +had me? No! She—she had too much sense.” +</p> +<p>It was full a minute before Armstrong spoke +again. For a few seconds he sat motionless, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +gazing steadily into Gray’s handsome, blushing +face; then he turned once more and looked out +over the Pasig and the scarred level of the rice +fields beyond. And the long slant of the sunshine +on distant towers and neighboring roofs +and copse and wall, and the unlovely landscape +seemed all tinged with purple haze and tipped +with gold. The blare of a bugle summoning +the men to supper seemed softened by distance, +or some new, strange intonation, and gave to +the ugliest of all our service calls the effect of +soft, sweet melody; and there was sympathy +and genuine feeling in the deep voice as he +once again held out his hand to Billy. +</p> +<p>“Forgive me, lad, for I judged you more +harshly than you deserved.” +</p> +<p>One lovely, summer-like evening, some five +weeks later, in long, heaving surges the deep +blue waves of the Pacific came lazily rolling +toward the palm-bordered beach at Waikiki, +bursting into snowy foam on the pebbly strand, +and, softly hissing, swept like fleecy mantle up +the slope of wet, hard-beaten sand, then broke, +lapping and whirling, about the stone supports +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +of the broad <i>lanai</i> of one of the many luxurious +homes that dot the curving line of the bay to the +east of Honolulu. Dimly outlined in the fairy +moonlight, the shadowy mountains of the Waianai +Range lay low upon the western horizon. +Eastward the bare, bold volcanic upheaval of +Diamond Head gleamed in bold relief, reflecting +the silver rays. Here and there through +the foliage shone the soft-colored fires of Chinese +lanterns, and farther away, along the concave +shore, distant electric lights twinkled like +answering signals to the stars in the vault of +blue, and the “riding lights” of the few transports +or warships, swinging at anchor on the +tide. +</p> +<p>From a little grove of palms close to the low +sea wall came the soft tinkle of guitar, and now +and then a burst of joyous song, while under +the spreading roof of the broad portico or <i>lanai</i>, +the murmur of voices, the occasional ripple of +musical laughter, the floating haze of cigarette +smoke, told where a party of worshipers were +gathered, rejoicing in the loveliness of nature +and the night. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span></p> +<p>It was a reunited party, too, and in the welcome +of their winsome hostess, in the soft, +soothing influence of that summer clime, and +through the healing tonic of the long sea voyage, +faces that had been saddened by deep anxiety +but a few weeks gone, smiled gladness into +one another now. A tall, gray-haired man reclined +in an easy lounging chair, his eyes intent +on the clear-cut face of a young soldier in trim +white uniform who, with much animation, was +telling of an event in the recent campaign. By +his side, her humid eyes following his every +gesture, sat a tall, dark, stylish girl, whose hand +from time to time crept forth to caress his—an +evident case of sister worship. Close at hand +another young fellow, in spotless white, his +curly head bent far forward, his elbows on his +knees, his fingertips joining, was studying silently +the effect of his comrade’s story on another—a +fair girl whose sweet face, serene and +composed, was fully illumined by the silvery +light of the unclouded moon. “Coming by +transport, via Honolulu”—“Gov.’s” cabled +message had brought father and sister to meet +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +him at these famed “Cross-roads of the Pacific,” +and whither they journeyed Amy Lawrence, +too, must go, said they; and, glad of opportunity +to see the land of perennial bloom and +sunshine, and wearied with long, long months +of labor in the service of the Red Cross, the girl +had willingly accepted their invitation. Coaled +and provisioned the transport had pushed on +for the seven-day run for San Francisco; but +the recovering of his long-lost son and the soft, +reposeful atmosphere of the lovely, yet isolated +island group, had so benefited Mr. Prime that +in family council it had been decided wise for +them to spend a week or ten days longer at the +Royal Hawaiian; and the boys had found no +difficulty in “holding over” for the Sedgwick +that followed swift upon the heels of their own +ship. Five joyous days had they together, and +this, the fifth, had been spent in sightseeing +beyond the lofty Pali of the northward side. +The “O. & O.” liner was coming in from Yokohama +even as they drove away; and as they +sat at dinner on the open <i>lanai</i>, long hours +later, it had been mentioned by their host that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +the Sedgwick, too, had reached the harbor during +the afternoon, and that army people were +passengers on both liner and transport. Billy +Gray, for one, began to wish that dinner were +over. He was eager to get the latest news from +the Philippines, and the Sedgwick left Manila +full a week behind their slower craft. +</p> +<p>“Did you hear who came with her?” he +somewhat eagerly asked, “or on the Doric?” +he continued, with less enthusiasm. +</p> +<p>“I did not,” was the answer—“that is, on +the Sedgwick;” and the gentleman baited lamely +and glanced furtively and appealingly at his +wife. There was that embarrassing, interrogative +silence that makes one feel the futility of +concealment. It was Miss Lawrence who +quickly came to his relief and dispelled the +strain on the situation. +</p> +<p>“I should fancy very few army people would +choose that roundabout way from Manila when +they can come direct by transport, and have +the ship to themselves.” +</p> +<p>“Well—er—yes; certainly, certainly,” answered +the helpless master of the house, dodging +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +now the warning and reproach in the eyes +of his wiser mate at the other end of the table. +The crack of a coachman’s whip and the swift +beat of trotting hoofs on the graveled road in +front could be heard as he faltered on. The +gleam of cab lights came floating through the +northward shrubbery. “Except, of course, +when they happen to be—er—already, well, you +know, at Hongkong or Nagasaki,” he lamely +concluded. +</p> +<p>There was an instant hurried glance exchanged +between Gray and Prime. Then up +spoke in silvery tone their hostess: +</p> +<p>“Other officers, you know, are ordered home. +We have just heard to-day that Colonel Frost +comes very soon. His health seems quite shattered. +I believe—you knew—of them—slightly +that is to say, Miss Prime, did you not?” But +even with her words she cast an anxious, furtive +glance along the dim reach of the <i>lanai</i>, for +the pit-a-pat of footfalls, the swish of feminine +draperies was distinctly heard. Two dainty, +white-robed forms came floating into view, and, +with changing color, their hostess suddenly +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span> +arose and stepped forward to meet them. Just +one second of silence intervened, then, all grace +and gladness, smiles and cordiality, both +her little hands outstretched, Mrs. Frank +Garrison came dancing into their midst, her sister +more timidly following. +</p> +<p>“<i>Dear</i> Mrs. Marsden, how perfectly (kiss, +kiss) delicious! Yes, this is the baby sister +I’ve raved to you about. We go right on with +the Doric; but I <i>had</i> to bring her out with me +that you might have just one glance at her. +Why! Mr. Prime! Why, what could be more +charming than to find you here? And ‘Gov.’ +<i>too</i>—you wicked boy! What won’t I do to you +for never telling me you were in Manila? And +Mildred!” (kiss—kiss, despite a palpable dodge +and heightened color on part of the half-dazed +recipient). “And you, too, Miss Lawrence?” +(Both hands, but no kiss—one hand calmly accepted). +“Ah, then I know how happy <i>you</i> are, +Mr. Willie Gray!” (beaming arch smiles upon +that flushed and flustered young officer. Then, +turning again to twine a jeweled arm about +the slim waist of their hostess, to whom she +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span> +clung as though defying any effort to dislodge, +yet pleading for protection): “Who on earth +could have foretold that we of all people should +have met out here—of all places? How long +did you say you had been here? A week? +And of course, dear Mrs. Marsden has done +everything to make it lovely for you. <i>I</i> should +have <i>died</i> without her.” And so the swift +play of words went on, the rapid fire of her fluent +tongue covering the movement of her allies +and drowning all possibility of reply. It was +an odd and trying moment. Mrs. Marsden, +well knowing, as who in Honolulu did not, of +Mrs. Frank’s devotion to the young lieutenant, +barely six months agone, was striving to welcome +the shrinking little scare-faced thing that +blindly and helplessly had drifted in in the +elder sister’s wake. The introductions that followed, +after the American fashion, were as perfunctory +as well-bred women can permit. The +greetings were almost solemn, smileless, and, +on part of Nita, fluttering to the verge of a +faint; and nothing but Witchie’s plucky and +persistent support, and the light flow of airy +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +chat and laughter, carried her through the +ordeal. The two young soldiers stood stiffly +back, red-faced and black-browed; the father, +pallid and cold, could hardly force himself to +unbend, yet his lips mumbled the name “Mrs. +Frost,” as he bowed at presentation; Miss +Prime stood erect and trembling; Miss Lawrence, +with brave eyes but heightened color. +To leave at once was impossible; to remain was +more than embarrassment. Most gallantly did +they battle, Mrs. Marsden and Mrs. Frank, to +lift the wet blanket from the group and relieve +the strain. Reward came to crown their efforts +in strange, unlooked-for fashion. Hoofs, wheels +and flashing lights were again at the entrance +gate, even as Mrs. Frank, sparkling with animation, +distributing her gay good humor over +the silent semicircle, suddenly exclaimed: “Oh, +if I’d <i>only</i> known you were here, I could have +provided the one thing to make our reunion +complete! If we were not going on at daybreak +I should do it yet.” Then hoofs and wheels and +lights had come to a stop at the front of the +house, and in measured, martial tread a man’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span> +footsteps were heard upon the <i>lanai</i>. Then, +all of a sudden, with a cry of joy, Witchie +burst in again: “<i>Should</i> do it?—I shall do it! +Said I not I was the fairy queen? Behold me +summon my subjects from the ends of the obedient +earth!” And, waving her parasol as she +would a wand, gayly pirouetting as she had +that night in the tent at old Camp Merritt, she +danced forward: “Sound ye the trumpets, +slaves! Hail to the chief! See the conquering +hero comes! Enter Brevet Brigadier-General +Stanley Armstrong!—though his arm is anything +but strong.” +</p> +<p>Bowing gravely to the sprite in front of him, +vaguely to the group in the shaded light at the +edge of the <i>lanai</i>, and joyously to the little hostess, +as almost hysterically she sprang forward +and clasped his hands, the colonel of the Primeval +Dudes stood revealed before them. +</p> +<p>“<i>Colonel</i> Armstrong! How—when did you +get here? What does this mean? Is your arm +quite well again? Why <i>didn’t</i> you let us know +you were coming?” were the questions rained +upon him by Mrs. Marsden, immediately followed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span> +by the somewhat illogical statement that +she was actually breathless with surprise. +</p> +<p>“Shall I answer in their order?” said he, +smiling down at her flushed and joyous face. +“By the Sedgwick. This afternoon. That I +wished to see you. Doing quite well. Because +I didn’t know myself until two days before we +sailed.” Then, as he stood peering beyond her, +she would have turned him to her other guests +had not Mrs. Garrison made instant and impulsive +rush upon him. +</p> +<p>“As fairy queen or fairy godmother I claim +first speech,” she gayly cried. “What tidings +of my liege lord, and where is hers, my fairy +sister’s?” she demanded, waving in front of +him her filmy parasol and pirouetting with +almost girlish grace. +</p> +<p>“Captain Garrison was looking fairly well +the day I sailed,” he answered briefly; “and +Colonel Frost left for Hongkong only a few +hours before in hopes, as we understood, of +finding Mrs. Frost at Yokohama. Permit +me,” he added, with grave courtesy. “I have +but little time as I transfer to the Doric to-night.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span></p> +<p>A shade spread over the radiant face one instant, +but was as quickly swept away. “And +I have not met your guests,” he finished, turning +to Mrs. Marsden, as he spoke, and quietly +passing Mrs. Garrison in so doing. The next +moment he was shaking hands with the entire +party, coming last of all to Amy Lawrence. +</p> +<p>“They told me of your being here,” he said, +looking straight into her clear, beautiful eyes; +“and I thought I might find you at Mrs. Marsden’s. +She was our best friend when we were +in Honolulu. They told me, too, that you desired +to go by the Doric, but feared she would +be crowded,” he continued, turning to Mr. +Prime. “There is one vacant stateroom now; +its occupants have decided to stay over and +visit the islands. There will be, I think, +another.” And drawing a letter from an inner +pocket he calmly turned to Nita, now shrinking +almost fearfully behind her sister. “The +colonel gave this to me to hand to you, Mrs. +Frost, on the chance of your being here. He +will arrive by next week’s steamer, and, pardon +me, it is something I think you should see at +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span> +once as a change in your plans may be necessary.” +</p> +<p>It was vain for Margaret to interpose. The +letter was safely lodged in her sister’s hands, +and with so significant a message that it had to +be opened and read without delay. Gayly excusing +herself, and with a low reverence and +comprehensive smile to the assembled party, +she ushered her sister into the long parlor, and +the curtain fell behind them. There followed +a few minutes of brisk conference upon the +<i>lanai</i>, the Marsdens pleading against, the +father and daughter for, immediate return to +the hotel, there to claim the vacated rooms +aboard the steamer. In the eager discussion, +pro and con, both young soldiers joined, both +saying “go,” and promising to follow by the +Sedgwick. In this family council, despite the +vivid interest Armstrong felt in the result, +neither Amy Lawrence nor himself took any +part. Side by side at the snowy railing over the +breaking sea they stood almost silent listeners. +Suddenly there came from the front again the +sound of hoofs and wheels, loud and distinct at +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +the start, then rapidly dying away with the +increasing distance. Miss Lawrence turned +and looked inquiringly into the eyes she well +knew were fixed upon her. Mrs. Marsden +hesitated one moment, then stepped across the +<i>lanai</i>, peered into the parlor and entered. It +was a minute before she returned, and in that +minute the decisive vote was cast, the carriage +ordered. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I ought to have known how it would +be if I left you a moment!” she cried despairingly, +on her reappearance, a little folded paper +in her hand. “But at least you must stay half +an hour. We can telephone direct to the dock +and secure the staterooms, if go you must on +the Doric. Yes,” she continued, lowering her +voice, “they are not going farther until Colonel +Frost comes. Mrs. Garrison explains that her +sister was really too ill and too weak to come +out here, but she thought the drive might do +her good. She thought best to slip quietly +away with her, and bids me say good-night to +you all.” +</p> +<p>So, when next day the Doric sailed, four new +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span> +names appeared upon the passenger list, and +the last men down the stage already “trembling +on the rise,” were two young fellows in white +uniform, who turned as they sprang to the dock +and waved their jaunty caps. “Join you in +ten days at ’Frisco!” shouted the shorter of +the two, gazing upward and backward at the +quartette on the promenade deck. “Oh! beg a +thousand pardons,” he added hastily, as he +bumped against some slender object, and, +wheeling about to pick up a flimsy white fan, +he found himself face to face with Witchie +Garrison, kerchief waving, beaming, smiling, +throwing kisses innumerable to the party he +had so lately left. The hot blood rushed to his +forehead, an angry light to his eyes, as she +nodded blithely, forbearingly, forgivingly at +him. “Dear boy,” she cried, in her clear, +penetrating treble, “how could you be expected +to see any one after leaving—her?” But +Gov.’s arm was linked in his at the very +instant and led him glowering away, leaving +her close to the edge of the crowded dock, smiling +sweetness, blessing and bliss upon a silent +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span> +and unresponsive group, and waving kerchief +and kisses to them until, far from shore, the +Doric headed out to sea. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>They were nearing home again. Day and +night for nearly a week the good ship had borne +them steadily onward over a sea of deepest +blue, calm and unruffled as the light that shone +in Amy’s eyes. Hours of each twenty-four +Armstrong had been the constant companion, +at first of the trio, then of the two—for Mr. +Prime had found a kindred spirit in a veteran +merchant homeward bound from China—then +of one alone; for Miss Prime had found another +interest, and favor in the eyes of a young tourist +paying his first visit to our shores, and so it +happened that before the voyage, all too brief, +was half over, Amy Lawrence and Armstrong +walked the spacious deck for hours alone or sat +in sheltered nooks, gazing out upon the sea. +The soft, summer breezes of the first few days +had given place to keener, chillier air. The fog +ahead told of the close proximity of the Farallones. +Heavier wraps had replaced the soft +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +fabrics of the Hawaiian saunterings. But +warmth and gladness, coupled with a strange +new shyness in his presence, were glowing in +her fresh young heart. One day she had said +to him: “You have not told me how you came +to leave there—just now,” and it was a +moment before he answered. +</p> +<p>“That was the surgeons’ doing. They sent +me back from the front because the wound did +not properly heal, and then ordered a sea voyage +until it did; but I turn back at once from +San Francisco.” +</p> +<p>She was silent a few seconds. This was unlooked +for and unwelcome news. “I thought,” +she said, “at least Gov. heard Dr. Frank say it +would be four months before you could use that +arm.” She plucked at the fringe of the heavy +shawl he had wrapped about her as she reclined +in the low steamer chair; but the white +lids veiled her eyes. +</p> +<p>“Possibly,” answered Armstrong; “but you +see I do not have to use it much at any time. +I’m all right otherwise, and there will soon be +need of me.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span></p> +<p>“More campaigning?” she anxiously inquired, +her eyes one moment uplifting. +</p> +<p>“Probably. Those fellows have no idea of +quitting.” +</p> +<p>Another interval of silence. The long, lazy, +rolling swell of the Pacific had changed during +the day to an abrupt and tumultuous upheaval +that tossed the Doric like a cork and made locomotion +a problem. The rising wind and sea +sent the spray whirling from her bows, and +Mildred’s young man, casting about for a dry +corner, had deposited his fair charge on a bench +along the forward deck house and was scouting +up and down for steamer chairs. Armstrong +had drawn his close to that in which Miss Lawrence +reclined, her knitted steamer cap pulled +well forward over her brow. His feet were +braced against a stanchion. His eyes were intent +upon her sweet face. He had no thought +for other men, even those in similar plight. +His gaze, though unhampered by the high peak +of his forage cap, comprehended nothing beyond +the rounded outline of that soft cheek. Her +eyes, well-nigh hidden by her shrouding +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span> +“Tam,” saw the searching son of Albion and +told her his need. The best of women will find +excuse for interruption at such moments when +sure of the devotion of the man who sits with a +fateful question quivering on his lips; and, even +when she longs to hear those very words, will +find means to defer them as a kitten dallies with +a captured mouse or a child saves to the very +last the sweetest morsel of her birthday cake. +Not ten minutes before, when the Honorable +Bertie Shafto had started impulsively toward +the vacant chair by Armstrong’s side, a firm +hand detained him, and Miss Prime had hastily +interposed. “Not on any account!” said she, +imperiously. “Can’t you see?” And Mr. +Shafto, adjusting his monocle, had gazed long +and fixedly, and then, transferring his gaze to +her, had said: +</p> +<p>“Eh—eh—yes. It’s not ours, I suppose you +mean.” +</p> +<p>But now Amy Lawrence was beckoning, and +he made a rush for the rail, then worked his +way aft, hand over hand. Every movable on +deck was taking a sudden slant to starboard, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span> +and the sea went hissing by almost on level +with the deck as next she spoke. “Surely a +soldier needs both arms in battle, and you—Oh, +certainly, Mr. Shafto, take that chair,” +she added. Armstrong glanced up suddenly. +</p> +<p>“Oh! that you, Shafto? Yes; take it by all +means.” +</p> +<p>Anything, thought he, rather than that they +should come here. The young Briton stepped +easily past between them and the rail—behind +there was no room—and, swinging the long, +awkwardly modeled fabric to his broad +shoulder, started back just as a huge wave +heaved suddenly under the counter, heeled the +steamer far over to port, threw him off his +balance, and, his foot catching at the bottom of +her chair, hurled him, load and all, straight at +Amy’s reclining form. One instant, and even +her uplifted hands could not have saved her face; +but in that instant Armstrong had darted in, +caught the stumbling Briton on one arm, and +the full force of the shooting chair crashing +upon the other, already pierced by Filipino +lead. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span></p> +<p>When, a moment later she emerged, safe and +unscratched from the confused heap of men +and furniture, it was to cut off instantly the +stutter and stammer of poor Shafto’s apologies, +to bid him go instantly for the ship’s doctor, +and, with face the color of death, to turn +quickly to Armstrong. The blow had burst +open the half-healed wound, and the blood was +streaming to the deck. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Both liner and transport turned back without +Stanley Armstrong, Doric and Sedgwick sailed +unheeded, for the highest surgical authority of +the Department of California had remanded +him to quarters at the Palace and forbidden his +return to duty with an unhealed wound. He +was sitting up again, somewhat pallid and not +too strong, but with every promise, said the +“medico,” of complete recovery within two +months. But not a month would Armstrong +wait. The Puebla was to start within the +week, and he had made up his mind. “Go,” +said he, “I must.” +</p> +<p>They had been sitting about him, the night +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +this opinion was announced, in the parlor of the +suite of rooms the Primes had taken. Billy +Gray had gone with his father to the club, +Shafto had been hanging about in the agonies +of an Englishman’s first love, Gov. disappeared +a moment and came back with tickets for the +Columbia, bidding Mildred get her hat and +gloves at once, and whispering Shafto that he +had a seat for him. As the little mantel clock +struck eight Amy Lawrence, lifting up her +eyes from the book she was trying hard to believe +she meant to read, saw that Armstrong +was rising from his easy-chair, and, springing +to his side, laying her white hand on his arm, +she faltered, “Oh, please! You know the +stipulation was that you were not to stir.” +</p> +<p>But then her heart began to flutter uncontrollably. +The blood went surging to her brows, +for all of a sudden, as through impulse irresistible, +her hand was seized in his—in both of +his, in fact—and the deep voice that had +pleaded at her behest for the cause of Billy +Gray was now, in impetuous flow of words that +fell upon her ears like some strain of thrilling +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span> +music, pleading at last his own. Ever since +that day in the radiant sunshine of the Park she +had learned to look up to him as a tower of +strength, a man of mark among his fellows, +a man to be honored and obeyed. Ever +since that night at the Palace, when she saw +his glowing eyes fixed intently upon her, +and knew that he was following her every +move, she had begun to realize the depth +of his interest in her. Ever since that day +when the China slipped from her moorings, +with Witchie Garrison singling him out for +lavish farewell favors, she had wondered why +it so annoyed and stung her. Ever since the +day she read the list of killed and wounded in +the first fierce battling with the “Insurrectos” +she knew it was the sight of his name, not Billy +Gray’s, that made her for the moment faint and +dizzy, and taught her the need of greater self-control. +Ever since that moonlit night upon +the Marsden’s <i>lanai</i>, when her heart leaped at +the sudden sound of his voice, she had realized +what his coming meant to her, and ever since +that breezy day upon the broad Pacific, with +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span> +the sailor’s song of “Land ho!” ringing from +the bows, and he, her wounded soldier, had +sprung to shield her from the crash of Shafto’s +hapless stumble, and the deck was stained with +the precious blood from that soldier’s reopened +wound, shed for her—for her who so revered +him—she had longed to hear him say the words +that alone could unlock the gates of maidenly +reserve and let her tell him—tell him with glad +and grateful heart that the love he bore her was +answered by her own. Hovering over him only +one minute, her lips half parted, her eyes still +veiled, her heart throbbing loud and fast, with +sudden movement she threw herself upon her +knees at the side of the low chair, and her burning +face, ever so lightly, was buried in the dark-blue +sleeve above that blessed wound. +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>THE END.</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP’S</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>Desirable Editions of Popular Books</p> +</div> + +<p>The following books are printed from new, large type +plates, on fine laid paper of excellent quality, and durably +and handsomely bound in the best silk finished book cloth, +each with a handsome and distinctive cover design. +</p> +<p>They are in every way superior to any other editions +at the same price. +</p> +<p>They are for sale by all booksellers, or will be mailed +by the publishers on receipt of +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>FIFTY CENTS PER VOLUME</p> +</div> + +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>BLACK ROCK, by Ralph Connor</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>THE MARBLE FAUN, by Nathaniel Hawthorne</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>BEULAH, by Augusta J. Evans</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>MACARIA, " " "</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>INEZ, " " "</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>EVANGELINE, (with 50 illustrations) by Henry W. Longfellow</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>HIAWATHA, by Henry W. Longfellow</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>BITTER SWEET, by J. G. Holland</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>AN ENGLISHWOMAN’S LOVE LETTERS</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>ELIZABETH AND HER GERMAN GARDEN</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers</p> +<p>11 EAST SIXTEENTH ST., NEW YORK</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>The Letters of Alphonse</p> +<p>“<i>MEMBER OF THE FRENCH JOURNALISM</i>”</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>By</span> ALEX. KENEALY</p> +</div> + +<p>Alphonse is an accredited correspondent of a Parisian +journal and gives his impression of things American as he +sees them, in a series of letters to his “small Journal for +to Read.” Their seemingly unconscious humor is so +deliciously absurd that it will convulse the reader with +laughter in nearly every line. There is no dialect in +them, and their humor lies entirely in the peculiar views +set forth, as well as the grotesque language in which they +are expressed. No book so genuinely funny has been +published in a decade, and the fun is in an entirely new +vein. Alphonse’s description of a ride in an “upstairs +berth” of a sleeping car, should be read by every regular +or occasional traveler. +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>Cloth bound, small 12 mo. with illustrations and cover design by F. Opper.</p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><i>PRICE, SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>On Many Greens</p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>By</span> MILES BANTOCK</p> +<p><i>With an Introduction by Findlay S. Douglas</i></p> +</div> + +<p>A book for “Duffers” as well as Golfers, being a +compilation of clever things about the Ancient and Royal +Game and those who play it. Every golfer and most of +those who are not golfers should read this little book. It +contains a little that is serious and much that is pure fun, +collected from all sorts of sources, and edited by a golf +enthusiast. +</p> +<p>Just the thing to read aloud to your friends, or to +while away the monotony of a rainy afternoon or a dull +railway journey. +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>12 mo. cloth, with many decorations and illustrations.</p> +<p><i>PRICE, ONE DOLLAR</i></p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><i>Either of the above books at all booksellers or sent postpaid by the publishers</i>.</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>GROSSET & DUNLAP, 11 East 16th St., New York</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'><i>A Beautifully</i> Illustrated Edition</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>of <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Longfellow’s</span> soul-stirring poem</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:0.5em;'>Evangeline</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><i>Printed</i> on super-calandered paper, and containing</p> +<p><i>thirty</i> full-page half tone and many text illustrations.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><i>Bound</i> in Cloth, with handsome Cover Design</p> +<p>in silver and ink. <i>Gilt Tops</i>.</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>Price, Fifty Cents</p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Grosset & Dunlap</span></p> +<p>11 <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>East Sixteenth Street</span></p> +<p><i>New York City</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'><i>KIPLING’S POEMS</i></p> +</div> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-style:italic;'> +<p>BARACK-ROOM BALLADS, DEPARTMENTAL</p> +<p>DITTIES, and OTHER BALLADS and VERSES,</p> +<p>Including RECESSIONAL and THE VAMPIRE.</p> +<p><i>By RUDYARD KIPLING</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Two volumes in one, with Glossary. +Fourteen characteristic full-page pen and +ink drawings by Charles D. Farrand and +others, together with the best and most +recent portrait of the author. Handsomely +bound in cloth, gilt tops, and printed on +old Chester antique deckle edge paper. +Size 5-1/4 × 7-5/8 inches, 340 pages. +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p><i>PRICE ONE DOLLAR AND TWENTY-FIVE CENTS</i></p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, <i>PUBLISHERS</i></p> +<p><i>11 East 16th Street : : New York</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'><i>Kipling’s Recessional</i></p> +</div> + +<p><i>EDITION DE LUXE, WITH LARGE PORTRAIT</i> +</p> +<p>A perfect reproduction of Wm. Strang’s recent etching +of Mr. Kipling, by far the best portrait yet given to +the public. The picture itself is a photogravure, size +9 × 11-1/4, enclosed in a portfolio of extra thick deckle-edge +Strathmore cover paper, size 12-1/2 × 20 inches open, +and 12-1/2 × 9-1/2 inches closed, with a beautiful cover +design in colors on the front cover, and the immortal +“Recessional” printed on the inner side of the flaps. It +is designed to be a finished production as it is especially +appropriate for mantel or bookshelf, or the picture can +be removed for framing if desired, as it is only lightly +pasted at the top. We offer this as the best portrait of +Mr. Kipling obtainable, and think in no other form is +the “Recessional” so desirable. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><i>PRICE FIFTY CENTS</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p><i>BOOKLET EDITION</i> +</p> +<p>A beautiful and dainty little edition, printed in two +colors on fine deckle-edge paper, and bound in deckle +edge covers, with artistic design in blue and silver. +With a fine half-tone portrait of the author. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><i>PRICE TEN CENTS</i></p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><i>Either of the above sent postpaid on receipt of price</i>.</p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, <i>PUBLISHERS</i></p> +<p><i>11 East 16th Street : : New York</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>THE BLACK HOMER</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>OF JIMTOWN</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><i>A Book of Real “Coon” Stories</i></p> +<p>By ED. MOTT</p> +</div> + +<p>The best collection of negro dialect stories. +Especially adapted for <i>Public or Private +Readings</i>. Any reader who can successfully +“swing” this quaint dialect will be +able to extract a world of pleasure and +amusement both for himself and his hearers. +</p> +<p>The Buffalo News says: “It is the best +thing in ‘Coon’ Stories in many a day.” +</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p><i>12 mo : Cloth : Price, $1.25</i></p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p>11 East Sixteenth Street: New York</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'><i>Other of</i></p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>Chas. M. Sheldon’s Works</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>practically uniform in size and style of</p> +<p>binding with “In His Steps.”</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p><i>Price, Fifty Cents per Volume</i></p> +</div> + +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Robert Hardy’s Seven Days</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The Twentieth Door</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The Crucifixion of Philip Strong</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>His Brother’s Keeper</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Richard Bruce</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>John King’s Question Class</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Grosset</span> & <span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dunlap</span></p> +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>11 East Sixteenth Street</span></p> +<p><i>New York City</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><i>A SUPERIOR EDITION AT A MODERATE PRICE OF</i></p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'><i>Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám</i></p> +</div> + +<p>Rendered into English verse by Edward Fitzgerald. A +new edition of the Persian Classic, being a correct +version of the text of the Fourth Edition, together with +accurate notes, a biography of both Omar and Fitzgerald, +and a Poetical Tribute by Andrew Lang. +Beautifully printed in two colors on old Chester deckle +edge paper, with decorative borders by Charles D. +Farrand, fourteen half-tone illustrations by Gilbert +James, and a portrait of Fitzgerald. In every way a +superior edition at a moderate price. Gilt tops, attractively +bound in cloth and gold, Size 5-1/4 × 7-5/8. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><i>PRICE ONE DOLLAR AND TWENTY-FIVE CENTS</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class='minor' /> + +<p><i>BOOKLET EDITION</i> +</p> +<p>Beautifully and daintily printed in two colors on fine +laid paper, with Persian cover design, 24 pages, containing +the complete text of the fourth edition of Fitzgerald’s +translation. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><i>PRICE TEN CENTS</i></p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p><i>Sent postpaid on receipt of price</i>.</p> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP, <i>PUBLISHERS</i></p> +<p><i>11 East 16th Street : : New York</i></p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppgen.rb version: 2.07 --> +<!-- timestamp: Sun Jun 22 17:33:06 -0600 2008 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Found in the Philippines, by Charles King + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUND IN THE PHILIPPINES *** + +***** This file should be named 25884-h.htm or 25884-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/8/8/25884/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/25884-h/images/emblem.png b/25884-h/images/emblem.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..59e5549 --- /dev/null +++ b/25884-h/images/emblem.png |
