man, and the latter
felt that she must go, and Witchie consented without demur.

In no pleasant mood Armstrong mounted 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."

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?"

"Oh, some of them might have had Mrs. Stockman's name, sir; but the two
or three that I saw were marked M. G."

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. Some of
the staff might be able to tell, was his theory; and one of them
justified it.

"Did I happen to meet Mrs. Garrison? Yes, I just saw her aboard the
China."

"Aboard the China!" exclaimed Armstrong, with sudden thrill of
excitement. "D'you mean she is going?"

"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."

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 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 c