tion.

"Mr. Lanier, sir."

"How came that?"

"I knew he was of my college fraternity before I entered college, and I
showed him my pin and certificate."

"That insured a welcome, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir. He--he made me at home in his quarters--and tent."

"Shared the best he had with you--home, food, drink, even clothes and
money, I'm told."

The flush deepened in the dejected face.

"It is all true, sir."

"Yet you quarrelled with him during the campaign."

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I lost money gambling, and he wouldn't lend me any more."

"Did you ever pay what he had lent you?"

"Not--yet, sir."

"Even after your quarrel did he not aid you?"

"Yes, at Laramie. I didn't seem to have any friend left by that time,
and had to go to him for help when they wired me to come home."

"In point of fact, he enabled you to get one hundred dollars at
Laramie?"

"Yes. I gave my note and he gave his word."

"What did you do with the money?"

"Tried to win back some that I had lost, at poker, and lost most of what
I had raised. I suppose I'd have lost all of it if Rawdon hadn't caught
me playing and pulled me out."

"You owed him still more?"

"Nearly two hundred dollars, sir."

"Did you go home?"

"I couldn't; I had only enough to bring me to Cushing, and they wouldn't
send me any more. I had to go to the ranch and stay."

"Did you try to earn any money?"

"Yes, sir, writing about the campaign. Rawdon lost his position because
he didn't send what they wanted, so I thought I might. The editor didn't
know me, and asked for references, so I sent my stories to--to Mr.
Arnold and my aunt. She often wrote for the papers."

"Is that the way the Boston and other papers came to publish those
scandals at the expense of Colonel Button?"

"She dressed them up a good deal and made it worse than I described,"
faltered Lowndes.

"Er--let me explain, gentlemen," interposed Mr. Arnold, who had been
twitching in uneasiness. "My sister is of a very sympathetic nature, and
her heart has long been wrung by the injustice meted out to the Indian.
When this unhappy boy wrote those--er--descriptive letters she had no
reason to doubt their entire truth. Indeed, her conviction was that he
was concealing, or glossing over, worse things."

"He seems to have later supplied you with worse things, Mr. Arnold. For
instance, I will ask you what was his final explanation of his need for
money?"

"He begged me to send him two h