en seemed
pointless to their minds, until they understood that they had conveyed
truths through a medium more like a heliograph than a telephone. By-and-by
they began to understand his heliographing, and, when they did that, they
began to swear by him, not at him.

In time it was found that the troop never had a better disciplinarian than
Jim. He knew when to shut his eyes, and when to keep them open. To
non-essentials he kept his eyes shut; to essentials he kept them very wide
open. There were some men of good birth from England and elsewhere among
them, and these mostly understood him first. But they all understood Sally
from the beginning, and after a little they were glad enough to be
permitted to come, on occasion, to the five-roomed little house near the
barracks, and hear her talk, then answer her questions, and, as men had
done at Washington, open out their hearts to her. They noticed, however,
that while she made them barley-water, and all kinds of soft drinks from
citric acid, sarsaparilla, and the like, and had one special drink of her
own invention, which she called cream-nectar, no spirits were to be had.
They also noticed that Jim never drank a drop of liquor, and by-and-by,
one way or another, they got a glimmer of the real truth, before it became
known who he really was or anything of his story. And the interest in the
two, and in Jim's reformation, spread through the country, while Jim
gained reputation as the smartest man in the force.

They were on the outskirts of civilization--as Jim used to say, "One step
ahead of the procession." Jim's duty was to guard the columns of
settlement and progress, and to see that every man got his own rights and
not more than his rights; that justice should be the plumb-line of march
and settlement. His principle was embodied in certain words which he
quoted once to Sally from the prophet Amos--"_And the Lord said unto me,
Amos, what seest thou? And I said, A plumb-line_."

On the day that Jim became a lieutenant his family increased by one. It
was a girl, and they called her Nancy, after Jim's mother. It was the
anniversary of their marriage, and, so far, Jim had won, with what
fightings and strugglings and wrestlings of the spirit only Sally and
himself knew. And she knew as well as he, and always saw the storm coming
before it broke--a restlessness, then a moodiness, then a hungry, eager,
helpless look, and afterward an agony of longing, a feverish desire to
break