ider that conclusive?"

Canker cleared his throat and considered as suggested.

"I heard the allegation sir, but--he made so clear an explanation to
_me_, at least--and besides, General"--a bright idea occurring to
him--"you know that as commissary sergeant he is not under my
command----"

"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."

"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."

"Apparently you apply a different rule in case of officers," calmly
responded the General, "_vide_ Mr. Gray. No further words are necessary.
Oblige me by having that sentry posted at once. Good-morning, sir."

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.

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. Garrison's
unexpected arrival. There the General turned quickly on his visitor with
the low-toned question:

"Well--what have you found?"

"Enough to give me strong reason for believing that Morton, so-called, is
young Prime, and that your nephew is with him, sir."

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