eclared on your honor that
gentlemen high in authority in this office told you the reasons you gave
for Mr. Forrest's summary orders to quit Chicago. I demand now to know
whether it was not that poor devil whom you've ruined here,--Starkey.
Answer me."

"What good would it do?" whined Elmendorf, shrugging his shoulders.
"Would not my statement be promptly denied? _Noblesse oblige_, sir; the
first business of these Knights of the Sword is to stand together, and
woe betide the knave who dare accuse one of them. But if you'll be
guided by my advice, Mr. Allison, you'll look well to your own vine and
fig-tree, lest the despoiler----"

But here Allison hurled himself upon the fellow and grasped him by the
throat. "You whelp!" he cried, banging the luckless head against the
door-post before any one could interfere. In an instant, however, the
officers had seized him, shaking the tutor loose. Madly sped the latter
to the elevator, but, finding Starkey and his crestfallen friend
awaiting him there, he turned and dashed down the stairway, his
ex-witnesses after him.

For a moment there was silence in the office, while Allison recovered
breath. Bowing coldly to him, Colonel Kenyon, with Cranston and Forrest,
turned to leave the room.

"Mr. Forrest," said the magnate, stepping hastily forward, "I am more
rejoiced at your vindication than I can say. Of course I see I've been
led into doing you an injustice, and I hope you'll permit me to make
amends."

But Forrest declined the outstretched hand and thrust his own within the
breast of his uniform.

"You have amends to make elsewhere, Mr. Allison," he answered, with
lips that trembled despite his efforts at control, "and a wrong to right
beside which mine is insignificant. Good-day, sir."

And so they left him.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVII.

The regulars were gradually withdrawn from the Garden City, as
old-timers loved to call Chicago, and Kenyon with his sturdy battalion
was among the first to be restored to his own station. The crusty
veteran left the home of his boyhood to resume duty at his proper post,
and left with feelings somewhat mixed. "We never had more temper-trying
work to do," said he, "and there isn't a man in the whole regiment that
wouldn't rather stand six months Indian-fighting than six hours mobbing
in Chicago. It's my own old home, so I've got a right to speak the truth
about it. For years its newspapers, with one excepti