nd I loved him as I did a brother?"

"I remember."

"No man knew him better than I did in the fort, for we were boon
comrades for over a year, and I knew his features perfectly, as well as
other marks of identification."

"Yes."

"The sergeant had one mark that he was sensitive about, and kept hidden
from all, though I saw it several times."

"What was it?"

"He had a peculiar way of dressing his hair, with a curl hanging over
his forehead."

"I remember it."

"Beneath that curl, sir, was a birthmark."

"Ah!"

"It was a red cross an inch in length, and perfect in shape."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, and I saw that same mark on a man's forehead a few days before the
date you say that Sergeant Weston, if it was he, was buried in the
caved-in mine."

"Ah! and where did you see it?"

"I had gone to Wingate by coach, sir, to collect some money due me from
several soldiers there, and in the sutler's store I saw a man whose face
I was sure I had seen before.

"He wore his hair and beard long, and seemed to stoop badly, or was
round-shouldered, but the form otherwise was the same, so were the eyes
and shape of the head, and he had a round gold filling the size of a
pin's head in one of the front teeth.

"Reading a letter that seemed to impress him, he took off his hat and
pushed his hair back, and I saw the red cross on his forehead. I went up
to see him as though to attract his attention, but he looked at me as
though he had never seen me before, yet his face flushed and paled as he
looked.

"Now, Mr. Cody, that man was Sergeant Weston, and I'll swear to it, but
I would not tell any other man than you, for if he escaped death no one
is more glad of it than I, unless----"

"Unless what, Harding?"

"Unless, a poor man, and a hunted one, he turned road-agent and was the
man who held up the coach, killing Dave Dockery."

"No, Harding, I can hardly believe that of him, and then, too, the coach
was just held up, and this man, with his pard, perished in the cave-in
of their mine."

"You are sure?"

"I cannot see reason to doubt it, but now that you tell me what you do,
the man who saved me from the gang of Headlight Joe, and then went on
his way, recalled a face I could not place, and now I am sure that it
was Sergeant Weston; but he too had round shoulders, while the sergeant
did not have, and yet he was then on his way to Wingate, and it was upon
his return that I followed his trail."

"Well, sir, if it was i