ughed. "They are exactly alike. I never know
which is mine."

"Yours is next the window," said Frank, "and mine is always locked."

"They are both locked now, as it happens," said Bill. He went over to
the dresser and picked up a key. "That doesn't look like mine," he said,
squinting at it.

"Mine is in my pocket," said Frank.

Bill took the key and opened the locker. He tipped up a corner of the
tray and felt under it, drawing out a square photograph case.

"Our folks fitted us out just alike as to kit bags and toilet sets and
photograph cases," said Bill, coming over toward the light with the
case. It slipped out of his hand as he spoke and he made a grab for it,
catching it by one corner. A photograph and a long envelope fluttered to
the floor.

"This isn't--" said Bill, then stopped and glanced at Frank who was
lying on his back on the bed with both legs in the air, unfastening his
puttees. With trembling fingers Bill seized the paper and scanned it. He
took one look at its contents and for a moment stood as though turned to
stone.

He passed a shaking hand across his forehead, then in a terrible voice
he cried:

"Anderson, you--you--you thief, I've got you! Oh, you dog, I've got
you!"

He choked and took a step toward Frank who had bounded to his feet.

"Stop!" cried Ernest. "Stop, Bill! What does this mean?"

"The envelope!" cried Bill, violently striking the paper in his hand.
"The envelope! And the money! The money Lee is going to prison for!"

"No such thing!" cried Frank, finding his tongue. "That money is mine!"

"Here is the paymaster's endorsement on the envelope," cried Bill
furiously. "You stole it--stole it and somehow put the blame on Lee. And
then you took his present!"

He struck away Ernest's restraining hand.

"Give me that money!" cried Frank. "I found that envelope; that's all
there is to that! The money is _mine_. Give it to me!"

"Yours?" said Bill. "Well, you won't get it!" and he thrust the long
envelope full of bills into Ernest's grasp.

With a muttered word, Frank made a leap for it and Bill met him half
way. Bill parried the blow that Frank launched as he realized that the
money was out of his grasp, and in another instant they were fighting
silently and desperately. Both were furiously angry, but Frank was
desperate. Ruin stared him in the face. He was too stunned to realize
that the game was up, his hand played out, and he fought with a
primitive impulse to down the