from a note book, folded, and fastened only by a red,
white and blue badge pin stuck through the paper.

The officer to whom the soldier had handed the paper pulled out the
pin which had kept it folded, and started to open it, when he saw
there was something written on the side through which the pin had been
thrust. Bending down to where the camp light fell upon the writing,
he saw that it was an address, scrawled in lead pencil:

"Mrs. Hannah Smith; Nurse."

"Do you know the woman to whom this letter is sent? he asked in
amazement of the Tagalog from whom it had been taken.

"Yes Senor."

"Do you know where she is now?"

"Yes, Senor. She is in a hospital not far from Manila. She is a
good woman. My life is hers. I was there once for many, many days,
shot through here," he placed his hand on his side, "and she made me
well again."

"Do you know who sent this letter to her?"

"Yes, Senor."

"Who was it?"

The man hesitated.

"Who was it? Answer. It is for her good I want to know."

"It was her son, Senor."

"Was he the man who gave us warning of the ambush today?"

"Yes, Senor."

The officer folded the paper, unread, and thrust the pin back through
the folds. The enamel on the badge glistened in the camp light.

"Keep the Tagalog here," he said to the men, "until I come back;"
and walked across the camp to where the hospital tents had been set up.

"Where is Mrs. Smith?" he asked of the surgeon in charge.

"Taking care of the men who were wounded this afternoon."

"Will you tell her that I want to see her alone in your tent, here,
and then see that no one else comes in?"

"Mrs. Smith," he said, when the nurse came in, "I have something here
for you--a letter. It has just been brought into camp, by a native who
did not know that you were here and who wanted to be sent to Manila
to find you. It is not very strongly sealed, but no one has read it
since it was brought into camp."

He gave the bit of paper to the nurse, and then turned away to stand
in the door of the tent, that he might not look at her while she read
it. Enough of the nurse's story was known in the army now so that the
officer could guess something of what this message might mean to her.

A sound in the tent behind the officer made him turn. The woman had
sunk down on the ground beneath the surgeon's light, and resting her
arms upon a camp stool had hid her face.

A moment later she raised her head, her face wet with tears and