t for this
man?"--this to the detectives.

"None, sir. The sergeant said he was a deserter, running off with the
doctor's daughter."

"He's no deserter. He's on furlough by order of General Crook,
travelling, I take it, with his own wife, and unless you want to burn
your fingers to the bone, let go."

"Then lieutenant," burst in Fitzroy, "he's a prisoner by order of
Colonel Button----"

"Then as senior officer on the spot I'll take charge of him; also,
Sergeant Fitzroy, of you, and the sleigh you feloniously made way with.
Stand aside, sir. Now, gentlemen, how about this train?"

"Ordered right on, lieutenant, to meet Number Five at Beaver Switch."

"Then it's a case of all aboard for those bound eastward. We'll hear the
rest when you return from furlough, Rawdon"--for now the young man was
trying to speak instead of seeking to speed away. "I did my best to be
in time for the ceremony, Mrs. Rawdon," continued Ennis, gallant and
impressive, as he swung her suddenly aboard, "but with my usual luck I
lost the chance to kiss the bride."

For answer she quickly turned, flung her arms about his neck, and her
warm lips swept his cheek. "One for you, Mr. Ennis," she cried, and then
again, "and this--for Mr. Lanier!"

XI

Friday again, and late in the day, and Bob Lanier's arrest lacked but a
few hours of its first full week, and Bob was in bandages and bed in a
sunny room of the hospital. Ennis, after a long night in saddle and a
short "spat" with the colonel, was taking a much needed nap. Stannard
and his wife had gone down to Doctor Mayhew's to meet Mrs. Osborn, who
had come to spend the afternoon. Paymaster Scott was up and about, and,
in his independent way, had been saying unrelishable things to Button,
who was in most peppery frame of mind. A wire had come from department
headquarters to say an inspector would follow. "Instead of ordering a
general court to try Lieutenant Lanier, they have ordered a colonel out
to try me, by gad!" said Button. "For that's just what it all amounts
to."

And of all colonels to investigate matters at Cushing, there wasn't one
in the army Button would not rather have had than the very one who was
coming--bluff, blunt, rasping old Riggs, best known to fame and Fort
Cushing, as "Black Bill."

"Why," said Button, to Scott, "this sending one field officer of cavalry
to sit in judgment on the official deeds of another is nothing short
of--of infamous, and I'm amazed at Crook