John Vaughan had secured a loose horse on emerging from his friendly
swamp. The shadows of night had given him the chance to escape. His
horse was fresh, the rain had begun to fall, the heat had abated and he
made good time.

He reached the office before midnight, took his seat at his desk, pale
and determined to tell the truth. He wrote an account of the battle and
the panic in which it had ended so vivid, so accurate, so terrible in
its confession of riot and dismay, the editor refused to print it.

"Why not?" John sternly demanded.

"It won't do."

"It's true!"

"Then the less said about it the better. Let's hush it up."

John smiled:

"I'm sorry. I would like to see that thing in type just as I saw and
felt and lived it. It's a good story and it's my last--it's a pity to
kill it----"

"Your last? What do you mean?" the chief broke in.

"That I'm going into the ranks, and see if I am a coward--" he paused
and scowled--"it looked like it yesterday for a while, and my
curiosity's aroused. Besides, the country happens to need me."

"Rubbish," the editor cried, "the country will get all the men it needs
without you. You're a trained newspaper man. We need you here."

"Thanks. My mind's made up. I'm going to Missouri and raise a company."

The chief laid a hand on John's shoulder. "Don't be a fool. Stand by the
ship. I'll put your damned story in just as you wrote it if that's what
hurts."

John flushed and shook his head:

"But it isn't. You may be right about the stuff. If I were editor I'd
kill it myself. No. My dander's up. I want a little taste of the real
thing. I saw enough yesterday to interest me. The country's calling and
I've got to go."

The boys crowded around him and shook hands. From the door he waved his
good-bye and they shouted in chorus:

"Good luck!"

Arrived at his room, he wrote a note to Betty Winter. He read it over
and it seemed foolishly cold and formal. He tore it up and wrote a
simpler one. It was flippant and a little presumptuous. He destroyed
that and decided on a single line:

"MY DEAR MISS BETTY:

"Can I see you a few minutes before leaving to-night?

"JOHN VAUGHAN."

He sent it and began hurriedly to dress, his mind in a whirl of nervous
excitement. His vanity had not even paused to ask whether her answer
would be yes. He was sure of it. The big exciting thing was that he had
made a thrilling discovery in the midst of that ins