.

"Everybody" said by this time this must be Foster's body. What
"everybody" wanted was to get Connelly out of the way now, then
perhaps--_another_ fever patient might be summoned, for they couldn't
expect to keep those remains another day. There was widespread, if
unspoken, hope among the score of correspondents that the
provost-marshal would feel that he must summon Miss Ray.

But before the examiners could decide there came an unexpected scene.
Vinton went over, bent, and whispered to the provost-marshal, who looked
up, nodded, and glanced towards the witness, sitting flushed and
heavy-eyed, but patient, across the room. Vinton was plainly asking
something, and to the manifest displeasure of many of the crowd the
little Irishman was again accosted.

"You say Murray was a biter and bit you so that the marks last to this
day. Did you take note of any peculiarity in his teeth?"

"Yes, sir. One of 'em was gone near the front, right-hand side, next to
the big yellow eye-tooth."

"Would that make a peculiar mark on human flesh?"

"Yes, sir," answered Connelly, holding up his hand again and showing the
scar, now nearly five months old.

"Steward," said the officer placidly, "uncover the shoulder there and
let Connelly look at the mark Dr. Brick referred to."

Connelly did. He studied the purplish discolorations in the milky skin,
and excitement, not altogether febrile, suddenly became manifest in his
hot, flushed face. Then he held forth one hand, palm uppermost, eagerly
compared the ugly scars at the base of the thumb with the faint marks on
the broad, smooth shoulder, and turned back to the darkened room. With
hand uplifted he cried:

"Major,"--and now he was trembling with mingled weakness and
eagerness,--"I knew that man Murray was following this young feller to
squeeze money out of him, and when he couldn't get it by threats, he
tried by force. He's followed him clear to Manila, and that's his mark
sure's this is!--sure's there's a God in heaven!"

CHAPTER XIX.

There came a time of something more than anxiety and worry for all who
knew Gerard Stuyvesant,--for those who loved Marion Ray,--and Sandy was
a sorrow-laden man. Vinton could not stand between his favorite
aide-de-camp and the accusation laid at his door. Frank and his most
gifted fellow-surgeons were powerless to prevent the relapse that came
to Marion and bore her so close to the portals of the great beyond that
there were days and nig