lose under the post-office end of the
building and slowly and cautiously approaching the window from which
the light was streaming. At first he thought it some big dog scratching
his side along the cleats of the wooden wall, but as he stood silently
observing the dim shadow it was evident that no quadruped was thus
warily creeping toward him. Holmes stood leaning against a storehouse
platform in the deepest shade of an over-hanging roof; the figure was
perhaps twelve or thirteen yards away, and, as it neared the window,
the vague outlines of the mysterious creature became more easily
discernible. Immediately under the beams of light that shot across the
dark enclosure the figure paused; slowly raised itself; a hand went up
to the head and whipped off a cap just as the crown was tinged by the
gleam from within. Holmes distinctly saw the reflection of the light on
the brightly polished brass of the device, but could not make out
whether the device itself was the crossed rifles of the infantry or
sabres of the cavalry. Then the hand was laid upon the sill, the body
slowly unbent, and the head was raised until two beady eyes, under a
low forehead and a crop of thick, dark hair, could peer in between the
slats. One lingering scrutiny of every person and object visible in the
room, then down he crouched, and, almost on all-fours, slipped away to
the corner of the building, Holmes now briskly striding in pursuit.
Half-way back across the court, just as he entered the beam of light,
the latter's foot came down upon the edge of one of those tough and
elastic hoops, such as are sure to be lying about in the yards of
commissary and quartermaster storehouses, and in the twinkling of an
eye it whirled up and struck him with a sharp and audible snap. In an
instant the crouching figure shot to its full height and darted out of
sight around the corner. When Holmes reached the front of the building,
not a man in uniform was visible. Cowboys and a scout or two remained.
The stage-driver was again the centre of attraction, and all were
grouped about him on the low piazza. Holmes called one of the ranchmen
to one side, and asked him if he had seen or heard anything of a
soldier who came suddenly around the corner, but the man shook his
head. Stepping inside the office he met the major and his host, Dr.
Bayard, while a tall, well-formed, colored girl stood in front of the
little wicket, and a number of loungers still hung about the place. The