tes and Mexico. He says March ought to
have known better than to obey a verbal order when the thing was so
serious, and that he was something worse than an ass to mistake a
stranger for Johnson, the orderly, whose face March knew almost as well
as his own. There's where Vandyke scores an extra point against March.
It would be very unusual to send a verbal order."

"That's why Eagle doubted it," I argued breathlessly. "_Could_ he have
refused to obey the acting colonel, when the order was repeated?"

"That's the question. It's too big for me," Tony said with a sigh. "It's
for the court-martial to settle. There are no witnesses who can be of
much use on either side, so far as I can see. Johnson was wounded in the
lungs last night, you know, crossing the bridge in Vandyke's car, and
never so much as squeaked again. He's dead now, so Vandyke has to depend
on his own word alone; but everybody who knows about the business seems
to think that probabilities are with him. His story is that he knew
nothing of what was going on till he heard the guns at work. Luckily he
was near by in his car, as you've heard a dozen times, and dashed up to
the rescue."

"What about the message Eagle wrote in his notebook?"

"There's only his own word to prove it was ever written. Naturally
there's no trace of it."

"But you," I persisted, "you and your men who were in charge of the
guns; can't any of you bear witness for Captain March--that you saw
Major Vandyke's orderly?"

"Unfortunately for March, no, not a man Jack of us," said Tony. "If he'd
been close to us at the time, we must have seen and recognized anybody
who came and spoke to him. But I told you he'd strolled off. It wasn't
our business to watch him, and nobody was watching. A man on foot
wheeling a bicycle doesn't make much noise; and a khaki uniform is just
about the colour of the ground, on that yellow hill. There was no moon,
only stars, which means no black shadow. I shall be called on as a
witness for the defence, of course, worse luck--but I'm afraid I can't
say anything to help March. I wish to the Lord I could! I'm dashed if it
isn't the other way round. If I'm not mighty careful, I may do him harm
instead of good."

"You'd _like_ to do him good, wouldn't you?" I pleaded.

"You bet your life I would, Peggy. March is just about the finest chap I
ever met, and most people think the same of him. But what can I do?"

"I can't see," I said, "but I may, when things grow c