good-by. "Dandy," his lithe-limbed sorrel, pricked up his dainty,
pointed ears and whinnied eagerly as he heard his step on the piazza,
giving himself a shake that threatened the dislocation of his burden of
blankets, canteen, and saddle-bags. The ladies surrounded him at the
gate. Mrs. Stannard's kind blue eyes were moistening. How often had she
said good-by to the young fellows starting out as buoyantly as Ray
to-day, thinking as she did so of the mothers and sisters at home! How
often had it happened that they came back maimed, pallid, suffering,
or--not at all! She had always liked Ray, he was so frank, so loyal, so
true, and more than ever she liked now to show her friendship and regard
since he had been slandered. Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford stood with
arms entwined about each other's waist,--the sweetest and best of them
have that innate, inevitable coquetry,--and Mrs. Stannard bent forward
to rearrange the silken knot at his throat, giving it an approving pat
as she surveyed the improvement. Ray smiled his thanks.

"Do you remember the night at Sandy, Mrs. Truscott, the last scout we
started out on, and how you came to see us off and wish me good luck?"

"As well as though it were only yesterday," she answered.

"We _had_ good luck. It was one of the best scouts ever made from Sandy,
and the Apaches caught it heavily. It was a success all through except
our--our losing Tanner and Kerrigan. Jack's hit was to be envied."

She shuddered and drew closer to Miss Sanford's side.

"Oh, Mr. Ray! I cannot bear to think of that fight. I won't wish you
good luck again. You always expect it to mean unlimited meetings with
the Indians. I pray you may not see one."

"Then I appeal to you, Miss Sanford. Shall I confess that your name is
one I have envied for the last five years? No, don't be amazed! We
Kentuckians always associate it now with two of our grandest
horses,--Monarchist and Harry Bassett. Why, I'm going to ride the old
Sanford colors myself this summer. See,--the dark blue?" he laughed,
pointing to his breast.

"Then you should be among the first coming home," she answered,
brightly, "and that isn't your custom, I'm told."

"But in this case the whole regiment will be wearing the dark blue; so
there will be no distinction. I won't beg for a ribbon. It's bad luck. I
stole the tassel of Miss Pelham's fan in Arizona and wore it on the next
dash; we never saw an Indian, and she married a fellow who stayed at