THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE 
 
 OF 
 
 LOS 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 CALIFORNIA 
 ANGELES
 
 / 
 
 , 
 
 I 
 
 v
 
 CAPTAIN CHARLES KING'S 
 
 MILITARY 
 NOVELS. 
 
 
 
 The Colonel's Daughter. 
 
 I'intH. Extra, cloth. 91.25. 
 
 " Captain King is to be thanked for an entertaining contribution to the 
 slender stock of American military novels, a contribution so good that we 
 hope he will give us another." New York Tribune. 
 
 "It is a charming work, worthy of achieving a permanent place in lit 
 erature. We cordially congratulate Captain King on his accomplished 
 success, for such undoubtedly it la."N. Y. Army and Navy Journal. 
 
 * 
 
 Marion's Faith. 
 
 litmo. Extra, cloth. $1.25. 
 
 "The author of this novel is a gallant soldier, now on the retired list 
 by reason of wounds received in the line of duty. The favor with which 
 his books have been received proves that he can write as well as fight. 
 ' Marion's Faith' is a very pleasing story, with a strong flavor of love and 
 shoulder-straps and military life, and cannot but charm the reader." Na 
 tional Tribune, Washington, D. C. 
 
 f' 
 
 Kitty's Conquest. 
 
 lOtno. Extra, cloth. &1.OO. 
 
 " A charming little story of love and adventure, by Captain Charles 
 King, U.S.A. The book is written in a neat, attractive style, and abounds 
 in bright passages. The characters are drawn in a very pleasing manner, 
 and the plot is handled very successfully. It is a good addition to the 
 library of modern fiction." .Boston Post. 
 
 * 
 
 The Deserter, and From the Ranks. 
 
 No. I OF AMERICAN NOVELS. 
 Square Utnto. Extra cloth, 91. OO. Paper, SO cents. 
 
 " It is a relief, indeed, to turn from the dismal introspection of much of 
 our modern fiction to the fresh naturalness of such stories as these." New 
 York Critic. 
 
 "No military novels of the day rival those of Captain King in pre 
 cision and popularity. "^-Boston Courier. 
 
 * 
 
 *** For sale by all Booksellers, or will be sent by the Publishers, post-paid, on 
 receipt of the price. 
 
 J. B. Lippincott Company, 
 
 715 and 717 Market St., Philadelphia.
 
 MAEION'S FAITH. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER." 
 
 CAPT. CHARLES KING, U.S.A., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "KITTY'S CONQUEST," ETC. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 J. B. LIPPmCOTT COMPANY. 
 
 1889.
 
 Copyright, 1886, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
 
 Copyright, 1887, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY.
 
 JHemorg 
 
 EMMET CRAWFORD, 
 
 CAPTAIN THIRD REGIMENT OP CAVALRY, 
 
 ONE OP THE NOBLEST MEN, ONE OF THE KNIGHTLIEST SOLDIERS, AND 
 
 ONE OF THE MOST INEXCUSABLE SACRIFICES IN 
 
 THE HISTORY OF OUR ARMY, 
 
 THIS STORY 
 
 OP SCENES WHEREIN HE WAS LOVED AND HONORED, 
 
 IS DEDICATED. 
 
 720797
 
 PEEFAOE. 
 
 THE kind reception accorded " The Colonel's Daugh 
 ter" was a surprise and delight to the author, never 
 theless it was a long time before he could be induced 
 to write this sequel. 
 
 When Mr. Sam Slick, at the first essay, shot the 
 cork out of a floating bottle some thirty yards away, 
 he had the deep sagacity never to pull trigger again, 
 well knowing he could not improve on the initial 
 effort, and so Prudence whispered that with the Finis 
 to the story of Jack Truscott and sweet Grace Pelham 
 there had best come a full stop. 
 
 But many a plea has been received to " Tell us more 
 about the th," and at last the motion prevailed. 
 Thackeray has said, " It is an unfair advantage which 
 the novelist takes of the hero and heroine to say 
 good-by to the two as soon as ever they are mack* 
 husband and wife, and I have often wished that we 
 should hear what occurs to the sober married man as 
 well as to the ardent bachelor ; to the matron as to the 
 blushing spinster." And so, many of the characters
 
 VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 of the old story reappear upon the scene. That they 
 will be welcomed for the sake of auld lang syne has 
 been promised, and that they and their associates may 
 find new interest in the eyes of the indulgent reader is 
 the prayer of 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 COKTEKTS. 
 
 CHAPTER pAOm 
 
 I. Two TROOPEKS 5 
 
 II. GARRISON TALK 20 
 
 III. HEROINES .43 
 
 IV. IMPENDING SHADOWS . . . . " . 59 
 
 V. MARION SANFORD 72 
 
 VI. AT THE FRONT 84 
 
 VII. WAR RUMORS 100 
 
 VIII. AT RUSSELL ....... 112 
 
 IX. RAY TO THE FRONT 125 
 
 X. A JUNE SUNDAY 147 
 
 XI. THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD . . . 162 
 
 XII. A SERENADE 177 
 
 XIII. SURROUNDED 189 
 
 XIV. RAY'S RIDE FOR LIFE 207 
 
 XV. RESCUE AT DAWN 222 
 
 XVI. How WE HEARD THE NEWS .... 232 
 
 XVII. A COWARD'S DEED ...... 246 
 
 XVIII. DESERTION 257 
 
 XIX. IN CLOSE ARREST 272 
 
 XX. A CORNERED RAT 286 
 
 XXI. RAY'S TROUBLES 296 
 
 XXII. A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT 309 
 
 XXIII. IN CLOSER TOILS 322 
 
 XXIV. THE GRASP OF THE LAW . . . .334 
 
 XXV. WHOSE GAUNTLET? .... 345 
 
 XXVI. REVELATIONS 859 
 
 XXVII. VINDICATED 373 
 
 XXVIII. THE COLORS ENTWINE 396 
 
 XXIX. A CAVALRY WEDDING 419 
 
 vii
 
 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 
 
 " RAY, what would you do if some one were to leave 
 you a fortune ?" 
 
 " Humph ! Pay for the clothes I have on, I suppose/' 
 is the answer, half humorous, half wistful, as the in 
 terrogated party, the younger of two officers, glances 
 down at his well-worn regimentals. " That's one rea 
 son I'm praying we may be sent to reinforce Crook up 
 in the Sioux country. No need of new duds when you're 
 scouting for old ' Gray Fox,' you know." 
 
 " I thought you wanted to take a leave this summer 
 and visit the old home in Kentucky," says the major, 
 with a look of rather kindly interest from under his 
 shaggy eyebrows. 
 
 " Want must be my master, then. I couldn't pay my 
 way home if they'd take me as freight," replies the 
 lieutenant, in the downright and devil-may-care style 
 which is one of his several pronounced characteristics. 
 " Of course," he continues presently, " I would like 
 to look in on the mother again ; she's getting on in 
 
 l* 5
 
 Q MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 years now and isn't over and above strong, but she has 
 no cares or worries to speak of; she don't know what 
 a reprobate I am ; sister Nell is married and out of the 
 way ; the old home is sold and mother lives in comfort 
 on the proceeds ; she's happy up at Lexington with her 
 sister's people. What's the use of my going back to 
 Kentuck and being a worry to her ? Before I'd been 
 there a week I'd be spending most of my time down at 
 the track or the stables ; I could no more keep away 
 from the horses than I could from a square game, and 
 she hates both, they swamped my father before I knew 
 an ace from an ant-hill. No, sir ! The more I think 
 of it the more I know the only place for me is right 
 here with the old regiment. What's more, the livelier 
 work we. have in the field and the less we get of gar 
 rison grind the better it is for me. I almost wish we 
 were back in Arizona to-day." 
 
 " Why, confound it ! man, it isn't a year since we 
 left there," breaks in the major, impatiently, " and we 
 haven't begun to get a taste of civilization yet. You 
 let the women in the regiment hear you talk of wanting 
 to go back there, or what's worse, going up to join 
 Crook in Wyoming, and they'll mob you. Who was 
 it your sister married ?" he suddenly asks. 
 
 " A man named Rallston, a swell contractor or some 
 thing up in Iowa. I never saw him ; indeed, it's nearly 
 nine years since I saw her ; but she promised to be a 
 beauty then, and they all say she grew up a beauty ; but 
 Nell was headstrong and always in mischief, and I'm 
 glad she's settled down. She used to write to me when 
 she was first married, four years ago, and send me oc 
 casional ' tips' for Christmas and birthdays, and she was
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 7 
 
 going to give me a Lexington colt when I came East, 
 but she's quit all that, because I was an ungrateful cub 
 and never answered, I suppose. She knows there's 
 nothing I hate worse than writing, and oughtn't to be 
 hard on me. It's all I can do to send a monthly report 
 to the mother." 
 
 " Did you say you never saw her husband ?" asks the 
 major after a pause, in which he had been apparently 
 studying the quick-tripping hoofs of Ray's nimble 
 sorrel. 
 
 " No ; never set eyes on him. It was a sudden smite, 
 one of those flash-in-the-pan, love-at-first-sight affairs. 
 He was down in Kentucky buying horses, saw her at a 
 party, and made no end of fuss over her ; had lots of 
 money and style, you know, and the first I heard of it 
 they were married and off. It was our first year in 
 Arizona, and mails were a month old when they got 
 to us." 
 
 "How long is it since you heard from her?" says 
 the major, after another pause. 
 
 Mr. Ray looks up in some surprise. He hardly 
 knows what to make of this display of curiosity on the 
 part of his ordinarily indifferent companion, but he 
 answers quietly enough, 
 
 " Over a year, I reckon. She was in Omaha then 
 and Rallston was away a good deal, had big cattle 
 interests somewhere ; I know that mother used to ask 
 if Nell told me much about him, and she seemed anx 
 ious. Nell herself said that mother was much opposed 
 to the match, didn't seem to take to Rallston at all, 
 but she was bound to have him, and she did, and she's 
 just that high-strung sort of girl that if disappointed
 
 8 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 or unhappy would never let on to the mother as long 
 as she lived." 
 
 They are riding slowly in from troop-drill, the bat 
 talion commander and a pet of his, Mr. Ray, of the 
 th Cavalry. It is one of those exquisite May morn 
 ings when the rolling prairies of Western Kansas seem 
 swimming in a soft, hazy light, and the mirage on the 
 horizon looks like a glassy sea. The springy turf is 
 tinted with the hues of myriads of wild flowers, purple, 
 pale blue, and creamy white ; the mountain breeze that 
 is already whirling the dust-clouds on the Denver plains 
 has not yet begun to ruffle the cottonvvoods or the 
 placid surface of the slow-moving stream, and in many 
 a sheltered pool the waters of the " Smoky Hill" gleam 
 like silvered mirror, without break or flaw. Far out on 
 the gentle slopes small herds of troop-horses or quar 
 termaster's " stock," each with its attendant guard, give 
 life to the somewhat sombre tone of the landscape, 
 while nearer at hand two or three well-filled cavalry 
 " troops" with fluttering guidons are marching silently 
 in towards the little frontier garrison that lies in a 
 shallow dip in the wide, treeless prairie. 
 
 Bits of color are rare enough, save the faint hues of 
 the flowerets, almost as indistinguishable in the general 
 effect as their fairy fragrance on the air. Aloft, the sky 
 is all one blaze of sunshine, that seems to bleach it into 
 palest, most translucent blue. Far to the west some 
 fleecy clouds are rolling up from the horizon, wafted 
 from the peaks of the hidden Rockies. Down in the 
 "swale," the wooden barracks, stables, quarters, and 
 storehouses are all one tint of economical brown, bright 
 ened only by the hues of the flag that hangs high
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 9 
 
 over the scene. Beyond the shallow valley and across 
 the stream, looking only long rifle-shot away, but a 
 good two miles when one comes to walk it, a brick 
 school-house with glistening cupola stands sentinel in 
 the centre of the scattering frontier town ; there, too, 
 lies the railway station, from which an ugly brown 
 freight-train is just pulling out Denverwards, puffing 
 dense clouds of inky smoke to the sky. Space, light, 
 and air there are in lavish profusion. Shade there is 
 little or none, except close along the winding stream ; 
 but shade is a thing neither sought nor cared for, as the 
 sun-tanned faces of the troopers show. Every now 
 and then a trumpet-call floats softly over the prairie, or 
 the ringing, prolonged word of command marks some 
 lazily-executed manoeuvre on the homeward way. Drill 
 is over ; the sharp eyes and sharper tongue of the major 
 no longer criticise any faulty or " slouchy" wheel ; the 
 drill proper has been stiff and spirited, and now the 
 necessary changes of direction are carried out in a 
 purely perfunctory manner, while the battalion com 
 mander and his subaltern, troops and all, amble back 
 and give their steeds a breathing spell. 
 
 Typical cavalrymen are those two, who, chatting 
 quietly together, are riding somewhat in advance of the 
 returning companies. The major is a man a trifle over 
 forty, short, stout, with massive shoulders, chest, and 
 thighs, a neck like a bull, a well-shaped head covered 
 with straight, close-cropped, brown hair, innocent of 
 kink or curl ; a florid face, bronzed and tanned by years 
 of life in sun and wind and storm ; clean-shaven but 
 for the drooping brown moustache that conceals the 
 rugged lines of his mouth, and twinkling blue-gray
 
 10 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 eyes that peer out with searching gaze from under their 
 shaggy brows. Firmness, strength, self-reliance, even 
 sternness, can be read in every line ; but around the 
 gathering crowsfeet at the corners of his eyes, and 
 lurking under the shadow of the grim moustache, are 
 little curves or dimples or something, that betray to the 
 initiated the presence of a humorous vein that softens 
 the asperity of the soldier. Some who best know him 
 can detect there a symptom of tenderness and a possibil 
 ity of sentiment, whose existence the major would in 
 dignantly deny. The erect carriage of the head, the 
 square set of the shoulders, the firm yet easy seat in 
 the saddle, speak of the experienced soldier, while in 
 the first word that falls from his lips one hears the tone 
 of the man far more at home in camp than court. 
 There is something utterly blunt and abrupt in his 
 manner, a scathing contrast to the affected drawl 
 brought into the regiment by recent importations from 
 the East, and assiduously copied by a professed Anglo- 
 maniac among the captains. Rude indeed may he 
 sometimes be in his speech, " and little versed in the 
 set phrase of peace," but through it all is the ring of 
 sturdy honesty and independence. He uses the same 
 tone to general and to private soldier alike, extending 
 the same degree of courtesy to each. No one ever 
 heard of " old Stannard's" fawning upon a superior or 
 bullying an inferior ; to all soldiers he is one and the 
 same, short, blunt, quick, and to the point. Literally 
 he obeys the orders of his chiefs, and literally and 
 promptly he expects his own to be obeyed. He has his 
 faults, like the best of men : he will growl at times ; he 
 is prone to pick flaws, and to say sharp and cutting
 
 TWO TROOPERS. H 
 
 things, for which he is often ashamed and sorry ; he 
 can see little good in the works or words of the men 
 he dislikes ; he absolutely cannot praise, and he is over- 
 quick to blame ; but after all he is true as steel, as un 
 swerving as the needle, and no man, no woman could 
 need a stancher friend than the new major of the th, 
 " old Stannard." 
 
 As for Kay, no officer in the regiment is better known 
 or more talked about. Ten years of his life he has 
 spent under the standard of the th, barring a very 
 short but eventful detail at " the Point." Nebraska, 
 Kansas, and Arizona he knows as w r ell as the savannas 
 of his native blue-grass country. He has been in more 
 skirmishes with the regiment and more scrapes of his 
 own than any fellow of his age in service, but he has 
 the faculty of " lighting on his feet every time," as he 
 himself would express it, and to-day he rides along as 
 buoyantly and recklessly as he did ten years ago, and 
 the saddle is Ray's home. Ephemeral pleasure he finds 
 in the hop- room, for he dances well ; perennial attrac 
 tion, his detractors say, he finds at the card-table, but 
 Ray is never quite himself until he throws his leg over 
 the horse he loves. He is facile princeps the light rider 
 of the regiment, and to this claim there are none to say 
 him nay. A tip-top soldier too is Ray. Keen on the 
 scout, tireless on the trail, daring to a fault in action, 
 and either preternaturally cool or enthusiastically ex 
 cited when under fire. He is a man the rank and file 
 swear by and love. " You never hear Loot'nant Ray 
 saying ' Go in there, fellers.' 'Tis always, l Come on, 
 boys.' That's why I like him," is the way Sergeant 
 Moriarty puts it. Among his comrades, his brother
 
 12 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 officers that is to say, opinions are divided. Ray has 
 trusty friends and he has his bitter enemies, though the 
 latter, when charged with the fact, are prone to say that 
 no one is so much Ray's enemy as Ray himself, an 
 assertion which cannot be altogether denied. But as 
 his own worst enemy Ray is thoroughly open and above- 
 board ; he has not a hidden fault ; his sins are many 
 and they are public property for all he cares ; whereas 
 the men who dislike Ray in the regiment are of the 
 opposite stamp. Among themselves they pick him to 
 pieces with comparative safety, but outside their limited 
 circle, the damnation of faint praise, the covert insinua 
 tions, or that intangible species of backbiting which 
 can, 
 
 " Without sneering, others teach to sneer," 
 
 has to be their resort, and for good reason. Ray tolerates 
 no slander, and let him once get wind of the fact that 
 some man has maligned him, there is a row in the camp. 
 Minding his own business, however unsuccessfully, he 
 meddles with the affairs of no one else, and thinking 
 twice before he alludes once to the shortcomings of a 
 comrade, he claims that consideration for himself, but 
 doesn't get it. There be men who outrival the weaker 
 sex in the sinister effect they can throw into the faintest 
 allusion to another's conduct, and in the dexterity with 
 which they evade the consequences, and of such speci 
 mens the th has its share. There was Crane, whom 
 Ray had fearfully snubbed and afterwards " cut" in 
 Arizona; there was Wilkins, whom Ray had treated 
 with scant courtesy for over a year, because of some 
 gossip that veteran had been instrumental in putting
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 13 
 
 into circulation ; there was Captain Canker, who used 
 to like and admire Ray in the rough old days in the 
 cations and deserts, but who had forfeited his esteem 
 while they were stationed at Camp Sandy, and when 
 they met again in Kansas, Ray touched his cap to his 
 superior officer but withheld his hand. Canker felt 
 very bitterly towards Ray, claiming that there was no 
 officer in the regiment whom he had treated with such 
 marked courtesy, and to this, when he heard it, Ray 
 made response in his characteristic way. He would 
 have no middleman. He went straight to Canker and 
 said his say in few terse words : " You consider me un 
 justified in refusing to treat you as a friend, Captain 
 Canker ; now let us have no misunderstanding what 
 ever. Your conduct towards my best friend, Captain 
 Truscott, and towards towards another good friend of 
 mine at Sandy, was an outrage in my opinion, and I 
 have yet to learn that you have expressed regret or 
 made amends. That's my position, sir ; and if you care 
 for my friendship, you know how to regain it." Canker 
 was too much astonished by such directness to make any 
 reply. Other officers who happened to be standing near 
 maintained an embarrassed silence, and Ray faced about 
 and walked off. " For all the world," said Wilkins, 
 " as though he had that d d chip on his shoulder again 
 and was begging somebody to knock it off." Canker 
 was hit in a sore place. Long before this occurrence he 
 realized that several officers of the regiment had with 
 drawn every semblance of esteem in their intercourse 
 with him. He well knew why, but the officer whose 
 cause Ray so vehemently championed was away on de 
 tached service, and Canker really did not know just 
 
 2
 
 14 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 what to do, and was too proud and sensitive to seek 
 advice. He was a gallant soldier in the field, but a man 
 of singularly unfortunate disposition, crabbed, cranky, 
 and suspicious ; and thus it resulted that he, too, joined 
 the little band of Ray haters, despite the fact that he 
 felt ashamed of himself for so doing. 
 
 Then there was Gleason, " That man Gleason," as 
 he was generally alluded to, and to those familiar with 
 army life or army ways the mere style is indicative of 
 this character. For good and sufficient reason Mr. Ray 
 had slapped Mr. Gleason's face some years back, when 
 the th was serving in Arizona, and there was no pos 
 sible reason for his failure to seek the immediate repa 
 ration due him as an officer, na possible reason except 
 the absolute certainty of Ray's promptly according him 
 the demanded luxury. The th was commanded by 
 a colonel of the old school in those days, one who had 
 observed " the code" when a junior officer, and would 
 have been glad to see it carried out to this day ; but 
 Gleason was not made of that stuff, and to the scandal 
 of the regiment and the incredulous mirth of Mr. Ray, 
 Gleason pocketed the blow as complacently as he did 
 the money he had won from the Kentuckian by a trick 
 which was transparent to every looker-on, and would 
 have been harmless with Ray had he been himself. 
 Those were the rough days of the regiment's campaign 
 against the Apaches ; officers and men were scattered in 
 small commands through the mountains ; in the general 
 and absorbing interest of the chase and scout after a 
 common foe there was no time to take up and settle 
 the affair as something affecting the credit of the entire 
 corps ; many officers never heard of it at all until long
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 15 
 
 afterwards, and then it was too late ; but to this day 
 Gleason stood an unsparing, bitter, but secret and 
 treacherous enemy of the younger officer. He hated 
 Ray with the venom of a snake. 
 
 So far as the regiment was concerned, the enmity of 
 a man of Gleason's calibre could hardly be of conse 
 quence. Like Canker, he had come into the th from 
 the " supernumerary list" at the time of the general 
 reorganization in '71. Scores of infantry officers left 
 out of their regiments by consolidation were saddled 
 upon the cavalry and artillery, and in many instances 
 proved utterly out of their element in the mounted 
 service. All the cavalry regiments growled more or 
 less at the enforced addition to their list of " total com 
 missioned," and the th had not been especially fortu 
 nate. Many a fine soldier and excellent comrade had 
 come into the cavalry in this way, and of them the 
 th had found a few ; but a dozen or more, valuable 
 neither as soldiers nor comrades, had drifted into the 
 mounted service, and of these the regiment had, to say 
 the least, its full share. " All I've got to remark on 
 the subject," said old "Black Bill," the senior major 
 at that eventful period, "all I've got to remark is 
 simply this : those infantry fellows showed profound 
 discrimination in getting rid of their chaff, but they had 
 no mercy on us. When a man ain't good enough for a 
 doughboy officer he ain't fit for anything." 
 
 Now, it by no means resulted from inefficiency on 
 their part that so many of the transferred officers had 
 left their own regiments. Many had requested the 
 move; many more were rendered supernumerary as 
 being the juniors of their grades; but there were
 
 16 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 others still who ranked well Up in their old regiments, 
 and yet were mysteriously " left out in the cold." And 
 of such was " that man Gleason." Six years had he 
 served with the new regiment in the field, and not a 
 friend could he muster among the officers, not one who 
 either liked or respected him, not one who more than 
 tolerated him except among the two or three who daily 
 and nightly haunted the card-room at the trader's store ; 
 but to hear Gleason talk one would fancy him to be on 
 terms of intimacy with every " solid" man of the regi 
 ment, and the casual visitor at the garrison would be 
 more than apt to leave it with the impression that 
 Gleason was the figure-head of the commissioned ele 
 ment. He had fair manners ; his appearance was pre 
 possessing ; he was bland and insinuating among daily 
 associates, confidential and hospitable with strangers. 
 A visitor could go nowhere without meeting Gleason, 
 for his social status was just so balanced between ad 
 verse influences that one could neither forbid nor wel 
 come him to his home. No matter who might be the 
 entertaining officer, the first to call and pay his respects 
 to the guest would be that objectionable Gleason, and 
 very sprightly and interesting could he be. Ten to one 
 the chances were that when he took his departure he 
 had left a pleasant impression on the mind of the new 
 arrival, who would find himself at a loss to account for 
 the evident perturbation with which his host proper re 
 garded his acceptance of Gleason's hospitable invita 
 tions. Gleason's horse, Gleason's dogs or guns or rods 
 were promptly at the door for him to try, and when 
 others sought to do him honor, and other invitations 
 came to hunt or ride or dine, Gleason had the inside
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 17 
 
 track, and somehow or other it seemed to make the 
 better men of the th retire into their shells when 
 they heard of it. This had been the way with visiting 
 officers from other posts and regiments when in Arizona, 
 and the same thing was being repeated here in Kansas. 
 The th did not like it, but could not exactly see how 
 to help it. The only vulnerable and tangible points 
 upon which he could be "sent to Coventry" were shady 
 transactions at cards or horse-racing that had occurred 
 in Arizona, and his failure to resent Ray's blow ; but 
 two and three years had elapsed since these occurrences ; 
 the scattered condition of the regiment had prevented 
 regimental notice of them at the time, and it was gen 
 erally held that now it was too late for any such action. 
 With any other man coldness, distance of manner, or 
 at the least the pronounced snubs that greeted Glea- 
 son, would have long since had effect, but he was proof 
 against such methods, and no sooner detected them than 
 he found excuses to force himself upon the attention or 
 conversation of the officer, and in so insidious a way as 
 to disarm resistance. He would fairly beam with cor 
 diality and respect upon the commanding officer who 
 was short and gruff with him ; he would invade old 
 Stannard's quarters to ask his advice about the pur 
 chase of a horse or the proper method of dealing with 
 some one of his men, and the major had a soft side in 
 looking after the rights of the rank and file ; he would 
 drop in to ask Mrs. Stannard the name of a new flower 
 he had picked up out near the targets. He cared no 
 more for flowers than she did for him, but it gave 
 him temporary admission, generally when other ladies 
 had called for a morning chat, and though she cordially 
 b 2*
 
 18 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 disliked him, Mrs. Stannard was too thorough a lady 
 to show the least discourtesy to an officer of her hus 
 band's regiment. Gleason well knew it, and laid his 
 plans accordingly. For a long time, indeed, there were 
 ladies who could not understand why Mr. Gleason 
 should be so contemptuously spoken of by the officers. 
 He was so thoughtful, so delicate, and then he was 
 so lonely. Gleason was a widower, whose eyes would 
 often overflow when he spoke of the little woman 
 whom he had buried years ago down in Connecticut ; 
 but when Mrs. Turner once questioned Captain Baxter, 
 who knew them when they were in the old infantry 
 regiment in Louisiana, and referred to its being so sad 
 and touching to hear Mr. Gleason talk of his dead 
 wife and their happy days among the orange-groves 
 near Jackson Barracks, the captain astonished her by an 
 outburst of derisive laughter. " Happy, madam ?" 
 said he ; " by gad ! if ever a woman died of neglect, 
 abuse, and ill-treatment Mrs. Gleason did, and next 
 time he attempts to gull you with sentiment, just you 
 refer him to .me." But then, as Mrs. Turner said, poor 
 Captain Baxter's finer sensibilities seemed to have been 
 blunted by a lifetime in the quartermaster's department, 
 and for quite a while Mr. Gleason was one of her fa 
 vorites, quite a devotee in fact, until the disastrous day 
 when she discovered that so far from having been ill 
 and unable to ride with her, as he claimed, he had been 
 spending the afternoon in the fascinations of poker. 
 One by one the ladies of the th had learned to 
 trust Mr. Gleason as little as did their lords, but there 
 was no snubbing him. " Snubs," said the senior major, 
 " are lost on such a pachydermatous ass as Gleasou,"
 
 TWO TROOPERS. 19 
 
 and however tough might be his moral hide, and how 
 ever deserved might have been the applied adjective, 
 the major was in error in calling Gleason an ass. In 
 triguing, full of low malice and scheming, a "slan 
 derer and substractor" he certainly was, but no fool. 
 More's the pity, Mr. Gleason was far too smart for 
 the direct methods and simple minds of his associates 
 in the th. He never in all his life failed to take full 
 note of every slight or coldness, and though it was 
 his r6le to hide the sting, and " smile and smile and be 
 a villain still," never was it his purpose to permit 
 the faintest snub to go unpunished. Sooner or later, 
 unrelentingly but secretly he would return that stab 
 with interest ten times compounded. And sooner or 
 later to the bitter end he meant to feed fat his ancient 
 grudge on Ray. 
 
 Up to this time he had scant opportunity. For two 
 or three years preceding their removal to the East 
 Gleason had been stationed in Southern Arizona, while 
 Ray, after months of lively service in the mountains, 
 had been sent to regimental headquarters, and marched 
 with them when they came into Kansas. !Xow once 
 more six companies were gathered at the post of the 
 standard, two were tenting on the prairie just outside 
 the garrison, the other four were regularly in barracks, 
 and the concentration there boded a move or " business" 
 of some kind. " Old Catnip," the colonel, was East, 
 but the lieutenant-colonel was commanding, and the 
 junior major was there. Drills were incessant, but 
 scouts were few, and after the years of "go-as-you- 
 please" work in Arizona the th was getting rapidly 
 back into soldierly shape. The little frontier fort was
 
 20 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 blithe and gay with its merry populace. All the 
 officers' families had joined ; several young ladies were 
 spending the spring in garrison and taking their first 
 taste of military life ; hops and dances came off almost 
 every night, a "german" every week; rides, drives, 
 hunts, and picnic-parties were of daily occurrence ; the 
 young officers were in clover, the young ladies in ecstasy, 
 the young matrons perhaps not quite so well pleased 
 as when they had the field to themselves in Arizona, 
 where young ladies had been few and far between, and 
 all promised delightfully for the coming summer, all 
 but the war-cloud rising in the far Northwest. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GARRISON TALK. 
 
 IT was a picturesque group that assembled every 
 pleasant morning on the veranda of the colonel's 
 quarters^ There had been a time in the not very 
 distant past of the regiment when the ladies gathered 
 almost anywhere else in preference, but that was when 
 Colonel Pelham had retained the command, and when 
 his wife sought to rule the garrison after methods of 
 her own devising. However successful may be such 
 feminine usurpation for a time, it is at best but a 
 temporary power, for women are of all things revo 
 lutionary. The instances where some ambitious matron 
 has sought to assume the control of the little military
 
 GARRISON TALK. 21 
 
 bailiwick known as "the garrison" are numerous in 
 deed, but the fingers of one hand are too many to keep 
 tally of the cases of prolonged and peaceful reign. 
 Mrs. Pelham's queendom had been limited to a very 
 brief fortnight, so 'twas said in the regiment, despite 
 the fact that the more prominent members of the social 
 circle of the th had been quite ready to do her every 
 homage on her first arrival, provided the prime min 
 istry were not given to some rival sister. But Mrs. 
 Pelham's administration had been fraught with errors 
 and disasters enough to wreck a constitutional monarchy, 
 and, as a result, aifairs were in a highly socialistic, if 
 not nihilistic condition for some months after the re 
 turn of the regiment from its exile in Arizona. Only 
 a few of the officers had taken their families thither 
 with them, for the journey in those days was full of 
 vast discomfort and expense, and life there was an 
 isolation; but those ladies who had shared the heat 
 and burden of the Arizona days with their lords were 
 not unnaturally given to regarding themselves as en 
 titled to more consideration as regimental authorities 
 than those of their sisterhood who had remained in 
 comfort in the East. Then, too, there was a little band 
 of heroines who had made the march " cross country" 
 with the th, and held themselves (and were held by 
 the men) as having a higher place on the regimental 
 unwritten records than those who were sent home by 
 way of the Pacific, San Francisco, and the one railway 
 that then belted the continent. Of these heroines 
 Mrs. Pelham was not, and when she rejoined at Fort 
 Hays, got her house in order and proceeded, though 
 with inward misgiving, to summon her subjects about
 
 22 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 her, she found that even the faint rally on which she 
 had counted was denied her. The ladies who knew 
 her at Camp Sandy had thrown off the yoke, and those 
 who were joining for the first time had been unmis 
 takably cautioned by the determined Amazons of the 
 homeward march. Courtesy, civility, and a certain de 
 gree of cordiality when in their social gatherings, the 
 ladies were willing to extend to the colonel's wife, but 
 the declaration of independence had been signed and 
 sealed, they would have no more of her dominion. 
 
 To a woman of her character garrison life was no 
 longer tolerable to Mrs. Pelham ; the colonel, too, was 
 getting tired of it, was aging rapidly and no longer 
 able to take his morning gallops. Then, too, he was 
 utterly lonely ; his one daughter, the light of his old 
 eyes, had married the man of her choice during the 
 previous year; his sons were scattered in their own 
 avocations, and the complaints and peevishness of his 
 wife were poor companions for his fireside. The officers 
 welcomed him to their club-room, and gladly strove to 
 interest him in billiards or whist, to the exclusion of 
 the Gleason clique and concomitant poker, which was 
 never played in the colonel's presence ; but even this 
 solace was denied him by his wife. She was just as 
 lonely at home, poor lady, and she had to have some 
 one to listen to her long accumulation of feminine 
 trials and grievances, otherwise the overcharged bosom 
 would burst. We claim it an attribute of manhood 
 that "to suffer and be strong" is an every-day af 
 fair ; but the best of men feel infinite relief in having 
 some trusted friend who will listen in patience to the 
 oft-told story of their struggle. To suffer, be strong,
 
 GARRISON TALK. 23 
 
 and be silent is a task for the stoutest of our sex, but 
 woman triumphs over nature itself in accomplishing 
 the triple feat, and undergoes a torture that outrivals 
 martyrdom. Suffer Mrs. Pelhani could and did, if her 
 voluble lamentations could be credited ; strong she 
 deemed herself beyond all question, in not having suc 
 cumbed to the privations and asperities of Western life, 
 but silent ? ah, no ! Poor old Pelham's life had become 
 a perennial curtain-lecture, so Lieutenant Blake ex 
 pressed it, and when January came, and with it an op 
 portunity to accept a pleasant detail in the East, the 
 colonel lost no time in taking his departure. He left 
 the th with a sorrowful heart, for officers and men 
 were strongly attached to the old soldier who had for 
 years past shared every exile with them, but they could 
 not bear his domineering wife, and many a fellow who 
 hadn't told an appreciable lie for six months gulped 
 unconscionably when it came to saying good-by to 
 Mrs. Pelhani. How could an honest man say he re 
 gretted her going ? Stout old Bucketts, the quarter 
 master, looked her straight in the eye and wished her a 
 pleasant journey and a long and happy visit East, 
 whereat several ladies gasped audibly, yet told it over 
 and over afterwards with infinite delight. The majority 
 of the officers contented themselves with saying that the 
 garrison would not be the same place without the colo 
 nel and herself, which was gospel truth despite its am 
 biguity, but Gleason came in from a hunt purposely to 
 say farewell, and was most effusive in his regrets at her 
 ladyship's departure, and as for the ladies of the regi 
 ment. Ah, well ! Why should they be any different, 
 any more frank in garrison than out of it ? There was
 
 24 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 not one of their number who did not inwardly rejoice 
 at Mrs. Pelham's going, but they clouded their gentle 
 faces in decorous mourning ; they grouped about her on 
 the piazza when the hour for parting came, looking in 
 finitely pathetic and picturesque, and the soft voices 
 were touching in their subdued sorrow ; there were even 
 eyes that glistened with unshed tears, and both Mrs. 
 Raymond and Mrs. Turner begged that she would write 
 to them, and heaven only knows what all. Who that 
 saw it could doubt the forgiving nature of the gentler 
 sex ? Who dare asperse the sweet sincerity of feminine 
 friendship ? 
 
 But Lady Pelham had gone, and gone for good they 
 hoped ; the lieutenant-colonel had arrived and assumed 
 command, and Major and Mrs. Stannard made their 
 first appearance at regimental headquarters. A new 
 era had dawned on the th ; the staif sent in their 
 resignations, and were promptly and pleasantly notified 
 by the new commander that he hoped they would not 
 deprive him of services that had been so valuable to 
 his predecessor ; whereat they resumed duty with 
 lighter hearts. It was all well enough where Bucketts 
 was concerned ; he had been quartermaster for years 
 and no one expected anything else, but there were those 
 in the regiment who hoped there might be a change in 
 the adjutancy. The office was held by one of the 
 senior lieutenants, to be sure, and one who possessed 
 many qualifications which were conceded, but his ap 
 pointment had been something of an accident. 
 
 He, too, had come into the th by transfer in '71 
 for the avowed purpose of seeking service on the 
 Western frontier with the cavalry. As it was the
 
 GARRISON TALK. 25 
 
 artillery which he abandoned for that purpose, the 
 th admitted that here was a fellow who might be 
 worth having, but, to the scandal of the entire regiment, 
 no sooner was the order issued which doomed them 
 to a five years' exile in Arizona then overrun with 
 hostile Apaches than the newly transferred gentleman 
 accepted a detail as aide-de-camp on the staff of a 
 general officer* and the th went across to the Pacific 
 and presently were lost to recollection in the then 
 inaccessible wilds of that marvellous Territory. Here 
 they spent four long years of hard scouting, hard 
 fighting, and no little suffering, while the aide in 
 question was presumably enjoying himself in unlimited 
 ball and opera in a gay Southern capital. Suddenly 
 he turned up in their midst just in time to take part 
 in the closing campaign which left the Apaches for 
 several years a disarmed and subjugated race; he 
 happened to get command of a well-seasoned and 
 thoroughly experienced " troop," and through no par 
 ticular personal merit, but rather by the faculty he 
 had of seeking the advice of the veteran sergeants in 
 the company, he had won two or three lively little 
 fights with wandering bands of hostiles, and had finally 
 been quite enviably wounded. It was all a piece of 
 his confounded luck, said some of the th not unnat 
 urally. Many a gallant fellow had been killed and 
 buried, many another wounded and not especially men 
 tioned, and all of them had done months of hard work 
 where Billings had put in only so many days, but here 
 he came in at the eleventh hour, and they, who had 
 borne the heat and burden of the campaign and re 
 ceived every man his penny, couldn't help a few good- 
 
 B 3
 
 26 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 natured slings at the fact that Billings's penny was 
 just as big and round as theirs. The department 
 commander had been clo'se at hand every time that 
 fortunate youth came in from a scout, and even Ray, 
 who was incessantly seeking the roughest and most 
 dangerous service, could not repress a wistful expression 
 of his views when he heard of the final scrimmage far 
 up towards Chevelon's Fork. " Here we fellows have 
 been bucking against this game for nigh onto four years 
 now, and if ever we raked in a pile it's all been ante'd 
 up since, and now Billings comes in fresh never draws 
 but he gets a full hand and he scoops the deck. He 
 has too much luck for a white man." The remark was 
 one that, said by Ray himself in his whimsical' and 
 downright manner, was destitute of any hidden mean 
 ing, and Billings, who had not seen Ray for years, 
 would never have misunderstood it, but when he first 
 heard it six months afterwards, and while Ray and 
 himself had yet to meet, it was told semi-confidentially, 
 told as Ray never said it, told in fact by Gleason ; 
 and Billings, who was of a nervous, sensitive disposi 
 tion, as outspoken in a way as Ray was in his, was 
 hurt more than a little. He had known Ray a dozen 
 years before when both were wearing the gray as cadets 
 at the Point, but they were in different classes and by 
 no means intimate. Each, however, had cordially liked 
 the other, and Billings would have been slow to believe 
 the statement as told him for a single instant except 
 for two things, one was that Gleason was a new ac 
 quaintance of whom up to that time he knew nothing 
 really discreditable ; the other was that just before the 
 regiment came East from Arizona the adjutancy became
 
 GARRISON TALK. 27 
 
 
 
 vacant, Lieutenant Truscott, who had long held the 
 position, was detailed for duty at West Point and 
 speedily promoted to his captaincy ; Billings was 
 brought in wounded and sent off by sea to San Fran 
 cisco as soon as he could travel, and so heard little of 
 the particulars of some strange mystery that was going 
 on at regimental headquarters, and when, some months 
 later, he rejoined the regiment in Kansas, it was with 
 much mental perturbation that he received from " Old 
 Catnip" the offer of the still vacant adjutancy. 
 
 Of course, he had heard by that time just why 
 Truscott had resigned and refused to re-accept the posi 
 tion ; he also knew that the colonel had said that he 
 could give it to no officer who had not served with 
 them in the rough days in Arizona; and, moreover, 
 that he had once declared that offering the adjutancy to 
 a second lieutenant was equivalent to saying that no 
 first lieutenant was capable of performing the duties. 
 But he did not know that soon after Truscott's resigna 
 tion the colonel had tendered the adjutancy to Ray, and 
 that impolitic youth had promptly declined. He knew, 
 as did the whole regiment, that for Truscott Ray had 
 an enthusiastic admiration and regard, and for that 
 matter, Billings himself had reason to look upon the 
 ex-adjutant as a friend worth having ; but he did not 
 suspect, as some at old Camp Sandy more than sus 
 pected, that Ray had been offered his place. The colo 
 nel, in his surprise and mortification, would speak of it 
 to no one. Ray, in his blunt honesty, conceived it to 
 be his duty to regard the offer as confidential, since he 
 had declined, and so, snubbed any one who strove to 
 extract information. Most of the senior lieutenants
 
 28 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 were on detached service when they came in from Ari 
 zona. Everybody thought Stryker would get the detail 
 as soon as he returned from abroad, whither he had 
 gone on leave after making, as mountain scout, leader, 
 the best four years' record in the regiment ; but Stryker 
 came just as Billings did, and to Billings, not Stryker, 
 was the adjutancy tendered. What made the regiment 
 indignant was, that so far from being in the least put 
 out about it, Stryker placidly remarked that Billings 
 was the very man for the place. " He isn't entitled to 
 it," said the th ; " in ten years' service he hasn't 
 spent ten months with us." But Stryker did not see 
 fit to tell them what he knew and the colonel knew, 
 that he had been tendered and had accepted the position 
 of aide-de-camp to his old Arizona chief, and was daily 
 awaiting orders to join ; and Ray was off scouting with 
 his troop when Billings reached headquarters, and had 
 to face, as he supposed, an opposition. Stannard was 
 the only man who really knew very much about him 
 as a cavalry officer, and Stannard's opinion was what 
 brought it all about. They had served for some 
 months at the same post, and both the major and his 
 clear-sighted wife had taken a fancy to the young officer, 
 whose first appearance in " citified garb and a pince- 
 nez" gave little promise of future usefulness in the 
 field. Pelham and Stannard knew that it had to be 
 Billings or a second lieutenant, but Billings had at first 
 no such intimation. Possibly his strong sense of self- 
 esteem might have stood in the way of acceptance had 
 he supposed that he was merely a last resort. Stannard 
 really hoped he would be the appointee, but all he 
 would say to the colonel when asked for his opinion
 
 GARRISON TALK. 29 
 
 was, " I have had less to find fault with in him than 
 any officer who ever served in my troop ; but then he 
 was only with me six months or so. I like him/' 
 which was tantamount to saying others probably 
 wouldn't. But Stannard and Billings were firm 
 friends, as anybody could see, and the colonel was 
 quick to note that when Stannard had given Billings 
 anything to do, he bothered himself no further about 
 the matter, instead of going along and supervising as 
 was his wont with most of the others. " If he's good 
 enough for Stannard, he'll do for me," was the colonel's 
 comment, and when Billings sought to decline the ap 
 pointment offered, hinting, with well-meant but awk 
 ward delicacy, that perhaps it ought to go to some man 
 of more established reputation and record in the regi 
 ment, the colonel cut him short with, " Here, Mr. Bil 
 lings, I must have some one at once ; old Bucketts has 
 been doing office- work as both quartermaster and adju 
 tant until he is getting used up, and young Dana is 
 only good for parade and guard-mounting. I'll detail 
 you as acting adjutant, and if you like it, at the end of 
 a week we'll make the appointment permanent. Con 
 sult your friends meantime, if you choose." And so 
 it happened that when Stannard said, " Take it," and 
 Stryker told him quietly that there were reasons why 
 he himself would have had to decline, Billings shook 
 his head a few minutes in thinking over what he had 
 heard of Mrs. Pelham, and wished he might see Ray 
 and make him understand that he thought the place 
 should go to him, but Stannard said, emphatically, that 
 Ray was too harum-scarum for office-work, good as he 
 was in the field. And then came a brief letter from 
 
 3*
 
 30 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Truscott, cordial and straight to the point as ever. It 
 wound up by saying, " The colonel attributes your hesi 
 tation to the fact that you think it ought to go to some 
 man who has served longer with the regiment. We 
 respect that, and appreciate it ; but you are offered this 
 with the best backing in the regiment, Stannard's, 
 and with that you can afford to laugh at anything the 
 growlers may say." 
 
 The next morning the order was issued in due form. 
 That afternoon Mr. Ray, returning dusty and unshorn 
 from a two weeks' scout up the Saline, was informed of 
 the fact as he stood at the stables unstrapping from the 
 back of his sorrel the carcass of a fat antelope, gave a 
 low whistle, remarked, " Well, I'm damned !" and, as 
 bad luck would have it, postponed rushing in to con 
 gratulate Billings until dinner, when, to his genuine 
 disappointment, the latter did not appear. He was 
 dining at the colonel's to meet some officers from Leaven- 
 worth, and when the new adjutant went to his rooms late 
 that night he had not seen Ray at all, but there was 
 that man Gleason smoking a cigar, sipping a toddy, and 
 evidently primed for a chat. Already Billings had 
 begun to look upon him with disfavor, but could find no 
 reason to avoid him entirely ; he did not welcome the 
 unwanted guest ; he could not chill him. Gleason had 
 his chat, and, when Ray stepped forward with sunny 
 smile and glistening white teeth and cordial, outstretched 
 hand the next morning, Billings looked him in the eye, 
 took his hand, but there was no warmth in the welcome, 
 and Ray felt rebuffed. " I heard Ned Billings had de 
 veloped into something of a snob," said he afterwards, 
 " but he's changed more, for a frank-hearted fellow that
 
 GARRISON TALK. 31 
 
 he was ten years ago, than any man I know." And so it 
 happened that two men whose lives were closely inter 
 woven from that time on, who had much in common, 
 who, " had they but known," could never have drifted 
 apart, began the next stage with an unknown, unseen, 
 yet undeniable influence thrusting them asunder. And 
 it was of these two men that the picturesque group on 
 the colonel's piazza happened to be speaking this very 
 May morning as the major and Mr. Ray, dismounting 
 at the south gate, strolled lazily up the lane. It was 
 the habit of the former when not on military duty to 
 thrust his hands deep down into his trousers pockets, 
 and allow his ample and aldermanic paunch to repose its 
 . weight upon his sabre-belt. As the belt was worn only 
 at the hours of drill or parade, it followed that there 
 were lapses of time wherein the paunch knew no such 
 military trammel, and a side elevation of the battalion 
 commander warranted the simile put in circulation by 
 Lieutenant Blake : " The major looked as though he 
 had swallowed a drum." Ray, on the contrary, was 
 slimly, even elegantly built, a trifle taller than his bulky 
 superior, and though indolent in his general movements, 
 excitement or action transformed him in an instant. 
 Then in every motion he was quick as a cat. It was 
 his wont to wear his forage-cap far down over his fore 
 head and canted very much over the right eye, while, 
 contrary to the fashion of that day, his dark hair fell 
 below the visor in a sweeping and decided " bang" al 
 most to his eyebrows, which were thick, dark brown, 
 and low-arched. A semi-defiant backward toss of the 
 head was the result as much perhaps of the method of 
 wearing his cap as of any pronounced mental character-
 
 32 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 istic. When Stannard was talking eagerly of any sub 
 ject his hands went deeper into his pockets, his head 
 thrust forward, and his eyes fairly popped, as though 
 slight additional pressure would project them into space 
 like many-tinted grape-shot. If he were standing still, 
 he tilted on his toes and dropped his head to one side 
 as he expounded, until the ear wellnigh reposed upon 
 the shoulder-strap. Ray, on the other hand, threw his 
 head farther back and, unless he was angry, showed his 
 white teeth to the molars. 
 
 As they came along the walk from the main gate and 
 passed one by one the snug little brown cottages known 
 as the officers' quarters, the ladies grouped on the colo 
 nel's piazza began their very natural comment, there 
 were no other men in sight on that side of the garrison. 
 
 " Last year you never saw Major Stannard without 
 Mr. Billings ; now you never see him with him, and he 
 is just as chummy with Mr. Ray," remarked our old 
 friend Mrs. Turner, who was languidly swinging in the 
 hammock, her eyes commanding a view of the side 
 walk, and the sidewalk commanding a view of her very 
 presentable feet encased in a new pair of French heeled 
 slippers, and stockings whose delicate mauve tint 
 matched the ribbons of her airy dress. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Billings is adjutant and cooped up in 
 the office all day," was the reply of Mrs. Raymond, 
 who could readily find reason for taking exception to 
 the remarks or theories of her next-door neighbor and 
 social rival. 
 
 There were five ladies in the group, all under thirty, 
 two of them under twenty, only one unmarried, none 
 of them avowedly interested in either of the two offi-
 
 GARRISON TALK. 33 
 
 cers slowly approaching. No one of them, however, 
 neglected a sweeping glance at her draperies or some 
 slight readjustment of pose or petticoat. Possibly the 
 formality would have been equally observed had they 
 all been over fifty. 
 
 " I never could understand why Mr. Billings was 
 made adjutant," remarked the one spinster, her eyes 
 dreamily resting on the lithe form of Mr. Ray. " I 
 don't mean, of course, that he doesn't do very well, but 
 there were so many others who would have at least 
 who deserved it so much more." 
 
 " "Well, you must remember this," responded Mrs. 
 Turner, " there wasn't anybody else when it was given 
 to him, and there was no real reason why the colonel 
 should remove him when he took command. Mr. 
 Stryker was going as aide-de-camp; Mr. Gleason 
 well, anybody knows he wouldn't do ; Mr. Crane and 
 Mr. Wilkins were neither of them fit for it ; Mr. Ray 
 wouldn't have it, and Mr. Blake and Mr. Freeman 
 hadn't joined. It was really Billings or nobody, ex 
 cept, of course, the second lieutenants. Dear me ! how 
 I wish one of them could have been appointed !" And 
 Mrs. Turner sighed pathetically. The younger officers 
 were her especial henchmen, and each in turn paid his 
 devotion a year or more at the shrine. If any one of 
 them had been put in power, how much easier 'twould 
 have been to get the band every evening ! and then the 
 hops wouldn't have to close at midnight either ! and 
 Mrs. Turner was devoted to dancing. 
 
 " But papa says Mr. Billings is right about not let 
 ting the band play after midnight," broke in the young 
 lady, whose years had been spent in many a garrison,
 
 34 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and whose papa the post surgeon had pronounced 
 views on matters of military and medical discipline. 
 " Papa says the officers have no right to make the band 
 play until late at night unless they pay them extra. 
 They have to be up at reveille, and it's a shame to mako 
 them work all day and at night too !" 
 
 " The doctor is by no means alone in that idea," be 
 gan a third speaker in a quiet voice, and both Mrs. 
 Turner and Mrs. Raymond, who had impulsively burst 
 into speech at the same instant, checked their nimble 
 tongues, bridled, sweetly said, "I beg your pardon, 
 Mrs. Stannard," and inclined attentive ears to a lady 
 who at the moment had stepped from the open door-way 
 to the piazza. It was evident that she was a late arrival, 
 in whose presence the others felt bound to observe the 
 deferential manners which further intimacy would pos 
 sibly extinguish. " Indeed," she went on, " only this 
 morning at breakfast Colonel Foster was saying that 
 the bandsmen were getting their full share of work, 
 and that Mr. Billings was quite right in the stand he 
 made in the matter." 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Stannard, I don't wonder Mr. Billings is 
 devoted to you !" said Mrs. Raymond. " You are 
 always ready to defend him." 
 
 " He was in our troop, you know, and I feel that he 
 belongs to us to a certain extent," said Mrs. Stannard, 
 smiling brightly, and nodding pleasant greetings to the 
 two officers who were passing at the moment, still intent 
 in their earnest talk. The major merely glanced at the 
 piazza and pulled oif his cap, as though he wished its 
 fair occupants were beyond saluting 'distance. Ray 
 bowed with laughing grace, and sung out cheerily,
 
 GARRISON TALK. 35 
 
 " Don't expect the major home just yet, Mrs. Stan- 
 nard ; he's giving me fits, and I'm in for a lecture." 
 
 The ladies were silent a moment, until the pair had 
 passed on out of earshoot. Then Mrs. Turner took up 
 the cudgels again. 
 
 "And yet, Mrs. Stannard, it wasn't so when Mr. 
 Truscott was adjutant. We could have the band night 
 after night if we wanted to, and surely you won't say 
 that Mr, Truscott wasn't the very paragon of an adju 
 tant," 
 
 " No, indeed," was the reply. " We all know how 
 unequalled Mr. Truscott was ; but then, were not the 
 conditions very different, Mrs. Turner? For instance, 
 in Arizona the band was not mounted, the men had no 
 stable duty, and it was so hot in the daytime that they 
 really had no duty to perform but to play after dark 
 when it was cool. Now, here they have their horses, 
 they have two parades each day ; they practice every 
 morning, and play on the parade every afternoon ; that, 
 with morning and evening stable duty, keeps them very 
 busy, and don't you think Mr. Billings is right?" 
 
 Now, all this was well understood by both Mrs. Tur 
 ner and Mrs. Turner's friends, and as put by Mrs. 
 Stannard, the case was clearly in favor of the bands 
 men and the adjutant. Down in the depths of her 
 consciousness Mrs. Turner was well aware of the fact. 
 She had gone over the fight with her liege lord, the 
 captain, more than once since the spring weather had 
 set in and the services of the band were in requisition 
 several hours each day. She knew perfectly well that 
 there was no parallel in the conditions existing in Ari 
 zona in Mr. Truscott's time and those of the day in
 
 36 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Kansas with Billings. Still, she wanted to contrast 
 the men and their methods, and, as is not unusual, 
 pronounced the abstract statement that " it wasn't so 
 with Mr. Truscott. Then we could have the band 
 night after night." She was only stating a fact, was 
 her mental justification, but that she was doing an in 
 justice she would probably have not admitted for an 
 instant. 
 
 Mrs. Stannard, however, had seen through the argu 
 ment, and in her courteous way had shattered its effect. 
 This put Mrs. Turner on her mettle, and she half rose 
 from the hammock. 
 
 " Don't for a moment think I mean to criticise Mr. 
 Billings, Mrs. Stannard ; I really like him, very much ; 
 only it's so poky not to have the band now. The 
 evenings are so lovely for dancing, and with so many 
 young officers here, it seems such a pity to waste so 
 much time. They are out drilling or shooting, or 
 something, all day long, and who knows but what 
 they'll all be ordered oif somewhere the next minute ? 
 Then we can have the band all day and nobody to 
 dance with. It's always the way." 
 
 "Well, I like Mr. Billings, too," said Mrs. Ray 
 mond, eager to say something pleasant of Mrs. Stan- 
 nard's friend ; " and Captain Raymond says he is a 
 very soldierly officer, very military, I mean, and 
 knows his duties so well, only we can't help contrasting 
 him with Mr. Truscott. Mr. Truscott was so dignified 
 and calm and deliberate, w T hile Mr. Billings is a regular 
 bunch of springs. They say he's very quick and iras 
 cible ; real peppery, you know ; but I suppose that is 
 because they bother him a good dral."
 
 GARRISON TALK. 37 
 
 "Mr. Billings has a very nervous temperament I 
 know," replied Mrs. Stannard, " but we never thought 
 him ill-tempered at Fort Gaines, and certainly Captain 
 Truscott thinks all the world of him. They correspond 
 constantly, and only last evening he showed me a letter 
 just received from the captain." 
 
 "Did he?" said Mrs. Turner, with sudden interest. 
 " What did he say about Grace ?" 
 
 " About Mrs. Truscott ?" said Mrs. Stannard, smil 
 ingly. " He said a good deal about her. She was so 
 bright and well and so pleased with West Point, and 
 they had such lovely quarters, looking right out on the 
 plain where they could see everything that was going 
 on, and Miss Sanford was visiting them " 
 
 "What Miss Sanford?" asked Mrs. Turner, with 
 that feminine impetuosity which is born of an incre 
 dulity as to any one's being able to convey information 
 in one's own time and way. 
 
 "Miss Marion Sanford. She was a classmate of 
 Mrs. Truscott's in their school-days, and belongs to 
 a wealthy New Jersey family, Mr. Billings says." 
 
 " Oh, I know !" said Mrs. Raymond. " She's that 
 handsome girl in the album that Grace had at Sandy, 
 don't you know ? with the Worth dress and the some 
 thing or other the matter with her forehead, a burn 
 or a birth-mark, wears her hair so low over it. Don't 
 you know ? Grace told us she had such a sad history, 
 her mother died when she was sixteen and her 
 father married again, and she has her mother's for 
 tune and had gone abroad. She was travelling with 
 the Zabriskies and was presented at court last year, and 
 the Prince of Wales said something or other about her. 
 
 4
 
 38 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Don't you know ? we read it in the New York some 
 thing as we were coming out on the Kansas Pacific 
 last fall. My ! Just think of her at West Point ! 
 What a catch !" And Mrs. Raymond paused, breathless 
 with admiration, not with effort. Talking fatigued 
 her far less than silence. 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Raymond, that is the very one, I be 
 lieve," continued Mrs. Stannard in her pleasant tones, 
 as soon as the lady came to a full stop. " Mr. Billings 
 says that he has heard that her father married a very 
 unpleasant woman the last time, and that 'twas said he 
 would be " 
 
 " What ! Mr. Billings said that ? Oh, Mrs. Stannard, 
 how rejoiced I am to hear it ! Captain Turner tried to 
 make me believe that he was another Truscott in his 
 horror of gossip. Now, won't I crow over him when 
 he comes in to dinner ?" 
 
 " Not crow, dear, cackle," suggested Mrs. Raymond, 
 mildly ; " it's the other sex that does the crowing." 
 
 "Very possibly I have betrayed a trust," laughed 
 Mrs. Stannard, coming to the rescue in the interests 
 of harmony. " It was my mistake in referring to it. 
 Do tell me about Mrs. Truscott; you know I never 
 met her." 
 
 " What is there to tell except that she is Mrs. Trus 
 cott," half laughed, half pouted Mrs. Turner, who 
 never quite forgave the fact that her queendom, real 
 or imaginary, had been invaded by that very lady a 
 year before, to the temporary loss of her throne. As 
 Grace Pelham, Mrs. Truscott had won all hearts at 
 Sandy. " She is undeniably pretty and lady-like ; 
 but what else can any one say of her? Stylish? no.
 
 GARRISON TALK. 39 
 
 Now, Mrs. Raymond, you need not try and say you 
 think her stylish, because only last year at Prescott you 
 wouldn't admit it. And as to her winning Mr. Trus- 
 cott as she did, it is simply incomprehensible. What 
 men see in some women is beyond me. She is neither 
 deep, nor intellectual, nor particularly well read that 
 /ever saw or heard of, and how she's a match for him, 
 as people say, I can't see. He's just head over heels 
 in love with her, at least he was, and she was simply 
 wrapped up in him, at least she is. You ought to have 
 seen the letter she wrote Mrs. Page a few months ago ; 
 all about her happiness and Jack, -just as if there 
 never had been another man in the world worth look 
 ing at. She'd have been just as rapturous over Mr. 
 Glenham if she'd married him as she promised to do, 
 I haven't a doubt, or Ray. He was ready to bow down 
 and worship her at one time ; and she encouraged him 
 not a little before we left Sandy, too." 
 
 " Don't you believe that" interposed Mrs. Raymond. 
 " They were warm friends, I know, but Ray was never 
 her lover." 
 
 " You always will contradict me, Nellie," protested 
 Mrs. Turner ; " but if you could not see what every one 
 else saw you were simply blind. I wonder she doesn't 
 sometimes regret not marrying Glenham, though. They 
 say he has gone abroad and has more money than he 
 can ever spend." 
 
 " More than he ever could if he's as close as he was 
 in Arizona," interposed Mrs. Raymond. 
 
 " But did you not know that Captain Truscott's ven 
 tures were coming out wonderfully well ?" asked Mrs. 
 Stannard, eager to give a pleasanter tone to the talk.
 
 40 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " I heard not only that was true, but that an uncle had 
 left him a good deal of money. . One thing is certain, 
 they have fitted up their quarters beautifully at the 
 Point, and are living there in a good deal of style." 
 
 "Here come the officers in from drill," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Turner, as a group of bronzed and soldierly-look 
 ing men came suddenly around the corner of the adju 
 tant's office and strolled towards them. "Ask Captain 
 Merrill, he will know. Captain Merrill" she called, 
 raising her voice. " Do come here a moment." And 
 obediently he came, doffing his cap and accepting the 
 seat tendered him beside her by Mrs. Raymond. 
 
 " You were at the Point last month. Is it true that 
 Captain Truscott has a good deal of money now ?" 
 
 " Can't prove it by me, maclame," said Merrill, sen- 
 tentiously. " Ask Blake. He's our Jenkins. How is 
 it, Blake?" 
 
 " Don't call me pet names, dearie. { When my tongue 
 olabs then let mine eyes not see,' " declaimed Mr. Blake, 
 sauntering up to the group and swinging a long, lean 
 leg over the railing. " What do you want to know ?" 
 
 " Is Mr. Captain Truscott rich ?" 
 
 " If my individual experiences are indicative, I should 
 say he was boundless in wealth and prodigality." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " He lent me a hundred dollars when I was East on 
 leave, and I know he never expects to see it again." 
 
 " I declare, Mr. Blake, you are as bad as Mr. Ray !" 
 
 " They are scoundrels and substractors that say so of 
 rne. Mrs. Turner, you you make me blush. Ray, 
 come hither and bear me consolation. Friend of my 
 youth, Merrill calls me Jenkins ; Mrs. Turner calls me
 
 GARRISON TALK. 41 
 
 bad as you ; and you called me with a pair of kings 
 when mine was a bobtail. The world is hollow, Ray." 
 
 " Mr. Blake ! "Will you stop your everlasting non 
 sense and tell us about Truscott? When were you 
 there ?" 
 
 "Mrs. Turner, you aggrieve me, but I was there in 
 April." 
 
 " And are they so delightfully situated ?" 
 
 " Yea, verily, blissfully," 
 
 11 Was Miss Sanford there ?" 
 
 " She came, alas ! the very eve I hied me hence. I 
 saw her but a moment ; 'twas " 
 
 " You saw her ? Tell us what she's like. Is she 
 pretty ? is she sweet-mannered as they say ?" 
 
 "Sweet? She's sweet, aye, dix-huit; at least she 
 was a year agone. Pretty ? Ah me !" And Blake 
 sighed profoundly, and straddled the rail a picture of 
 dejection. His auditors groaned in chorus, the custom 
 ary recognition of one of Blake's puns, but gathered 
 about him in manifest interest. With all his rattling 
 nonsense he was a regimental pet. 
 
 " But where is she from ? What connection of the 
 New Jersey Sanford ?" 
 
 " The Autocrat of the Preakness Stable, mean you ? 
 Marry, I know not. She is a Sanford and has a San- 
 ford's wealth, but 'twas not for me. She adores a horse 
 and worships a horseman. This I gathered from our 
 too brief converse. I strove to win her ear with poesie, 
 but she bade me cease. Her soul is not attuned to 
 melody, she'd none of mine. She preferred my Lady 
 Truscott and buttered muffins." 
 
 "What did Truscott say about Crook's fight with 
 4*
 
 42 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Crazy Horse ?" asked Ray, who looked blank enough 
 at Blake's jargon, and wanted facts. 
 
 " I don't think Jack liked the looks of things," said 
 Blake, relapsing into sudden gravity. "He told me 
 that he thought it more than likely we'd all be in the 
 field again in less than a month." 
 
 " We ?" said Merrill. " It isn't a matter that affects 
 Truscott one way or another. He has his four years' 
 detail at the Point. What difference does it make to 
 him whether we're ordered up to reinforce Crook ?" 
 
 " Just this difference, my bully rook : that Truscott 
 would catch us before we got to Laramie unless we 
 went by rail." 
 
 " Why, Blake, you're addled !" replied the captain, 
 in that uncomplimentary directness which sometimes 
 manifests itself among old comrades of the frontier, 
 even in the presence of the gentler sex. " Why, Mr. 
 Blake, you don't suppose he is going to give up his 
 young wife, his lovely home, his pleasant duties, to 
 join for a mere Indian campaign, do you?" asked 
 more than one present, and a general murmur of dis 
 sent went round. " What do you say, major ?" said 
 one voice, in direct appeal to the senior officer of the 
 group. 
 
 " It depends on what you consider a ' mere Indian 
 campaign,' " was the cool response. 
 
 "But as to Truscott's going, what do you think, 
 Bay?" 
 
 " I don't think anything about it. I know."
 
 HEROINES. 43 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HEROINES. 
 
 "WHAT is so rare as a day in June?" sings the 
 poet, and where can a day in June be more beautiful 
 than at this Highland Gate of the peerless Hudson ? 
 It is June of the Centennial year, and all the land is 
 ablaze with patriotic fervor. From North, from South, 
 from East and West, the products of a nation's inge 
 nuity or a nation's toil have been garnered in one 
 vast exhibition at the Quaker City ; and thither flock 
 the thousands of our people. It is June of a presiden 
 tial nomination, and the eyes of statesmen and politi 
 cians are fixed on Cincinnati. It is the celebration of 
 the first century of a nation's life that engrosses the 
 thoughts of millions of hearts, and between that great 
 jubilee and that quadrennial tempest-in-a-teapot, the 
 nomination, who but a few lonely wives and children 
 have time to think of those three columns far, far out 
 in the broad Northwest. those three columns of reg 
 ulars, cavalry and infantry, rough-garbed, bronzed and 
 bearded, steadily closing in towards the wild and beau 
 tiful region along the northern water-shed of the Big 
 Horn Range, where ten thousand hostile Indians are 
 uneasily watching their coming ? On the Atlantic sea 
 board comrades in full-dress uniform, with polished 
 arms, are standing guard over government treasures on 
 exhibition, and thoughtless thousands wonder at the ease
 
 44 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and luxury of the soldier's life. Out on the frontier, in 
 buckskin and flannel, slouch hats and leggings, and 
 bristling prairie-belts, the little army is concentrating 
 upon an outnumbering foe, whose signal-fires light the 
 way by night, whose trail is red with blood by day. 
 From the northeast, up the Yellowstone, Terry of 
 Fort Fisher fame, the genial, the warm-hearted general, 
 whose thoughts are ever with his officers and men, leads 
 his few hundred footmen, while Ouster, whose division 
 has flashed through battery after battery, charge after 
 charge, in the great Rebellion, now rides at the head 
 of a single regiment. From the northwest, down the 
 Yellowstone, with but a handful of tried soldiery, 
 comes Gibbon ; he who led a corps at Gettysburg and 
 Appomattox. From the south, feeling his way along 
 the eastern base of the Big Horn, with less than two 
 thousand troopers and footmen, marches the "Gray 
 Fox," the general under whom our friends of the th 
 so long and so successfully battled with the Apaches of 
 Arizona. He has met his match this time. Cheyenne, 
 Ogallalla, Brule, Uncapapa, Minneconjou, Sans Arc, 
 and Blackfoot, all swarm over the broad and breezy 
 uplands in his front, or lurk in the deep shade of the 
 lovely valleys. Twice have they sprung upon him and 
 checked his advance. Once only has he been forced to 
 hesitate, but now, as the longest days of the year ap 
 proach and the glistening dome of Snow Peak is yet 
 warm with the flush of the setting sun, when " morn, 
 in russet mantle clad," tinges the eastern slopes with 
 glowing light; now, at last, the long-dreaded leaders 
 of the border warfare are being hemmed in between 
 the encircling advance. Now may we look for stir-
 
 HEROINES. 45 
 
 ring work along the bluffs and boulders of the Big 
 Horn. 
 
 And June, Centennial June, has come to West Point. 
 Examinations are going briskly on, four buoyant classes 
 are all excitement with the joyous prospects of the sea 
 son : the seniors look forward to the speedy coming of 
 the longed-for diploma and the prized commission, for 
 relief from the restraint of academic life and for the 
 broader field of the army ; the second, the juniors, to 
 reaching the dignity of " first-class camp," with the 
 highest offices and honors to be achieved so long as 
 they shall wear the gray ; the third, ah ! they are the 
 furloughmen, so soon to be restored for two brief months 
 to home and kindred after the two years of rigid disci 
 pline and ceaseless duty ; the fourth, to step at once and 
 for all from the meekness of " plebedom" and become 
 the envied " old cadet." June brings bliss for all, for 
 all but those who fail. 
 
 And June brings joy to sisters and sweethearts by 
 the dozen, to fond mammas, to proud paternals, who 
 throng the hostel ries of the Point and the neighbor 
 hood, and swarm in lively interest' all over the historic 
 spot, listening with uncomprehending but tireless pa 
 tience to examinations on fortification or grand tactics, 
 mechanics or calculus ; gasping with excitement over 
 dashing charges on the " cavalry plain," shuddering over 
 the reckless daring in the riding-hall, stopping their ears 
 against the thunder of the great guns at the batteries, 
 and beating time with head and foot to the spirited 
 quicksteps of the band. Dress-parade, the closing cer 
 emony of each day, concentrates the entire afssemblage 
 along the shaded walk that borders on the west the
 
 46 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 beautiful green carpet of the " infantry plain," and, at 
 last, as the four gray and white companies go dancing 
 off in double-time through the grim sally-port beneath 
 the barracks, and the carriages and stages whirl away 
 the watching throngs, and the plumed cadet officers 
 scurry off to supper, and, group after group, the spec 
 tators saunter homewards, the band disappears below 
 the crest of the plain towards " Bumtown," and little 
 by little the light turns to violet on the wooded heights 
 across the swirling Hudson, and silence settles down 
 upon the scene. 
 
 Gazing out from under the foliage of the great elms, 
 watching these very changes, two ladies are seated upon 
 the piazza of the officers' quarters opposite the southern 
 half of the plain. One is a young matron, whose eyes 
 once seen are not soon forgotten, so soft, so deep, so 
 brown, so truthful are they under the long curling 
 lashes, under the low-arched, heavy brows. Beautiful 
 eyes were they when, in all their girlish fearlessness and 
 innocence, they first beamed upon our old friends of the 
 th in the days of exile in Arizona. Lovelier still are 
 they now in that consummation of a woman's happi 
 ness, a worshipped wifehood. It was early in the 
 previous winter when Captain Truscott brought his fair 
 bride to make her home among the scenes so dear to 
 both, and her life has been one song of unutterable 
 gladness. If earth contained a thing to wish for in 
 those six months, Grace Truscott could not name it. 
 Her pretty army house is the gem of the military com 
 munity, the envy of many a wife. Her husband is a 
 man whom all men honor and hold in deep esteem. In 
 strength, in dignity, in soldierly ability, and in his de-
 
 HEROINES. 47 
 
 votion to her he is all her heart could ask. If she loved 
 him dearly when they were married, her love has de 
 veloped into almost an idolatry, " Jack" is her world. 
 Not that she talks or writes very much of that matter, 
 however ; for quite a wise little head is that which is 
 perched on Mrs. Truscott's white shoulders. Once in 
 a while in some letter to an old and trusted friend she 
 finds it more than she can do to utterly repress her 
 overwhelming sense of bliss, and then she lets slip some 
 little confession of which Jack is the subject. She 
 never dreamed a man could be so lovely, so delicate, so 
 thoughtful, so considerate, so everything that was simply 
 perfect, is the way she has once or twice found herself 
 constrained to clinch the matter in default of adjectives 
 sufficiently descriptive. " Every day he develops some 
 new, lovely, and unsuspected trait," she once confided 
 to her friend Mrs. Tanner (with whom she has corre 
 sponded quite regularly since her marriage, and to whom 
 we are indebted for some of these interesting details), 
 and as Jack Truscott was confessedly a man of many 
 admirable qualities before his matrimonial alliance, it 
 may be conjectured that ere the waning of her honey 
 moon Mrs. Jack's enumeration table was beginning to 
 prove inadequate. And bliss has been, and is, becom 
 ing to Grace. She has lost none of the girlish delicacy 
 of expression which was so marked a characteristic of 
 her youthful beauty a year before, still she has rounded 
 somewhat, and both mentally and physically has de 
 veloped. The slender white hand that rests upon the 
 volume of Carlyle in her lap looks less fragile than it did 
 that day at old Camp Sandy when, in Tanner's library 
 searching for the children's books among the shelves,
 
 48 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 it showed itself to Truscott's eyes without a certain 
 ring. Mrs. Jack does not fancy Carlyle. He is too 
 crabbed by far, she thinks, and she wonders how and 
 where people get such distorted views of life, but the 
 captain has been reading him a great deal during the 
 past two months, and anything that interests him is food 
 for her. Happy she is beyond all question, happy as 
 woman ever becomes in this world where happiness is 
 never perfect. If it were, where would be the use of 
 heaven hereafter ? And as she sits here gazing out upon 
 the soft lights and shadows settling upon the distant 
 hills, her sweet, mobile face is fit subject for the brush 
 of some inspired painter who seeks a model for an ideal 
 picture, " I Ask No More." 
 
 It is twilight, too, the hour of all others when the 
 faintest sorrow is apt to assert itself upon reposeful 
 features, the hour when it takes a very happy woman 
 to look happy ; yet Grace Truscott's eyes tell of only 
 one story, love, peace, tranquillity ; and at last the 
 silence is broken by the remark, which is naturally the 
 result of a woman's undisturbed contemplation of such 
 a face, 
 
 " I declare, Grace, it is enough to make one want to 
 marry just to look at you !" 
 
 Mrs. Truscott returns to earth with sudden bound, 
 dropping her blissful day-dream with a merry laugh 
 and a blush that refuses to down at her bidding.. She 
 holds forth her hand appealingly, leaning forward in 
 the great wicker rocking-chair in which, till now, she 
 has been lazily reclining. 
 
 " How absurd, to be sure ! I wish you would seize 
 me and shake me, Marion, whenever you see me going
 
 HEROINES. 49 
 
 off into dreamland like that. It is simply detestable. 
 Yet, I can't help it. Oh !" with sudden impulse, " wait 
 till you marry some one the least like Jack, and then 
 see for yourself." 
 
 "But I never shall marry any one the least like 
 Jack," replies Miss Sanford. " To begin with, you 
 would not be apt to admit any such man could exist. 
 Now, don't bristle all over, Grace ; you are not in the 
 least absurd, to ordinary people that is; you really 
 behave very creditably for so young a wife, but you are 
 quite warranted in betraying your admiration to me. 
 I like it. It was simply mean of me to interrupt your 
 revery as I did, but the exclamation was involuntary. 
 I had been watching your face for several minutes, and 
 thinking how few, how very few women are blessed as 
 you are." 
 
 Mrs. Truscott's eyes filled with tears, and her hand 
 sought and clasped that of her friend. A most unusual 
 caress for her. 
 
 " Sometimes I fear I'm growing very selfish in it all, 
 Marion, and I blame myself more than I can tell you 
 when these spells come over me. We had planned to 
 make your visit lovely, Jack and I, and here, the 
 moment we are alone together, I go mooning off and 
 leaving you to be entertained by the sight of my imbe 
 cility." Mrs. Truscott gave herself a vigorous shake. 
 " There ! Now tell me about your walk. "Was Mr. 
 Ferris pleasant ?" 
 
 " Pleasant ? Very ! They all are for that matter, 
 and I hate to think how much I've lost in being away 
 all May. Father insisted though, and so those six 
 
 weeks had to be spent at with them. It is rnock- 
 
 c d ft
 
 50 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ery to call it home." And a deep trouble seemed to settle 
 on her beautiful face. 
 
 Mrs. Truscott leaned nearer to her friend, an eager 
 tremor in her voice. 
 
 " Listen, Marion dear," she spoke ; " I cannot allude 
 to the subject except when you do ; but, much as your 
 father loves you, he must see now that it is next to im 
 possible for you to live at home, and after her conduct 
 this spring, first demanding that you should come in 
 stead of spending May with us as was arranged, and 
 then making it so wretched for you, and finally almost 
 driving you from the house, it is useless to think of 
 going back this summer. Do spend it with us. We 
 both ask it, Jack and I. It was such a disappointment 
 to lose you in May, and now that we've got you again, 
 though you said 'twas only for a week, we talked 
 it all over last night, Maid Marion," and here Mrs. 
 Truscott has recourse to one of the pet names of their 
 school-days, " we talked it all over, Jack and I, and 
 that was one of the things he went to the city for to 
 day. He had determined to ask your father to let you 
 spend the summer here. I want it so much, so does 
 Jack, for he may have to go to Kentucky to buy horses 
 for the cavalry stables. Marion, do stay if he will 
 let you." And both Mrs. Truscott's white hands now 
 seized and clasped the unresisting, passive members 
 that lay, still gloved, in her companion's lap. 
 
 For a moment there was no move. Two big tears 
 were starting from Miss Sanford's eyes ; her sweet, sen 
 sitive lips were twitching nervously. She glanced hur 
 riedly up and down the broad road in front of the 
 quarters, they were unobserved and alone, and, lean-
 
 HEROINES. . 5X 
 
 ing back in her chair; she gently withdrew one hand 
 and held her handkerchief to her face. Mrs. Truscott 
 quickly rose and bent over her, pressed her lips one 
 instant upon the luxuriant hair that fell thickly over 
 the girl's forehead ; then, twining her arm around her 
 head, nestled her own sofc cheek where she had pressed 
 her lips. And there she hovered, saying nothing more, 
 waiting until the little rain-cloud had passed away. 
 
 Presently there came the sound of quick, springy 
 footsteps along the asphalt from the direction of the 
 barracks. Mrs. Truscott raised her head. 
 
 " It is Sergeant Wolf, Marion. I think he is coming 
 here." 
 
 Miss Sanford started up, wiped her eyes and half 
 turned her back, as a young soldier in the undress uni 
 form of" a cavalry sergeant entered the gateway, and, 
 halting at the foot of the steps, respectfully raised hand 
 to his cap, and stood there as though addressing an 
 officer. 
 
 " Pardon me, madame," he asked, with a distinctly 
 German accent, but with the intonation of a gentleman 
 on every syllable. " The captain has not yet returned ?" 
 
 " Not yet, sergeant ; I expect him on the eight-thirty 
 train." 
 
 " It is about Corporal Stein, madame ; he has over 
 stayed his pass." 
 
 " I presume Mr. "Waring should be told. Have you 
 seen him ?" 
 
 " Madame, the lieutenant is neither at his quarters 
 nor the mess." 
 
 " Then there is nothing further to be done that I know 
 of," said Mrs. Truscott, whose girlhood had been passed
 
 52 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 in garrison at times, and whose earliest recollections 
 were of papa's dragoons. " I will tell the captain as 
 soon as he returns." And she stepped backward to 
 wards the chairs. 
 
 The sergeant paused one moment. He was tall, 
 lithe, of graceful and muscular mould ; his face was of 
 the singular Saxon cast, so very fair ; his eyes were 
 blue and clear, his nose and mouth finely shaped ; his 
 teeth were white and even, his hair crisp and curly, 
 and the very color of bleached straw, but redeemed 
 from that dead, soda-dried effect by the sheen of every 
 lock ; his face was oval ; clean-shaved but for the upper 
 lip, whose long, blond moustache twirled trooper- 
 fashion till the ends almost swept his ears. He was a 
 handsome fellow, and his manners and language be 
 spoke him a man of education. After the moment's 
 hesitation, he again touched his cap and quitted the 
 little garden, walking with quick, brisk steps and erect 
 carriage away towards the upper end of the row. 
 
 Mrs. Truscott stood silently looking after him a 
 moment, then she turned : 
 
 " Did you notice his hands, Marion ?" 
 
 " Certainly ; I did the first time I saw him, and he 
 is always here. You say Wolf is an assumed name ?" 
 
 " Yes. Jack says there can be no question but that 
 he is an educated German officer who has had to quit 
 the service there for some crime or trouble. He came 
 here just when I did, last December ; and Jack says he 
 is the finest first sergeant he ever saw, though I believe 
 the men don't fancy him. He speaks French as well 
 as he does English, and there is apparently nothing he 
 does not know about cavalry service."
 
 HEROINES. 53 
 
 " And how did he happen to be in the army ?" 
 " I do not know ; there was nothing else for him to 
 do, I suppose. The old first sergeant of the cavalry 
 detachment here was discharged last fall, and when a 
 new one was needed, and there seemed to be no really 
 good one in the troop, Jack wrote to a recruiting officer 
 in the city to send him a first-class man. One day he 
 got a letter saying that a young German desired to en 
 list for cavalry service who was evidently a thorough 
 soldier, and that there was some mystery about him. 
 He was dressed like a gentleman, but had not a cent 
 of money, and claimed to have arrived only within 
 three days from the old country. Next day the man 
 himself came here. Jack had told me nothing about 
 the letter. The servant said there was a gentleman in 
 the parlor wanted to see the captain. Jack was away 
 at the riding-hall, and I went into the parlor, and there 
 stood this tall, fine-looking fellow. I thought, of 
 course, he must be some officer on leave, some one 
 whom Jack knew. It was a little dark, one of those 
 rainy December days, and he had his back to the light, 
 but the moment he spoke and I heard the German 
 accent I saw there was a mistake. He seemed greatly 
 embarrassed, said he had been told he would find the 
 captain here, apologized for the intrusion, and started 
 for the door, when I saw his face was as white as a 
 sheet and that he was staggering, and the next thing 
 I knew he had dropped like a fainting woman in 
 the big arm-chair. Something told me he was weak 
 from want of food. I called Mary, and got some wine 
 and made him drink it, and pretty soon he revived, 
 and then Jack came, and I left them together. He 
 
 5*
 
 54 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 said that he had eaten uothing for three days and was 
 exhausted. 
 
 " Well, Jack questioned him closely that evening after 
 he had made him rest and had fed him well, poor fel 
 low ! and the result was that in a day or two he regu 
 larly enlisted. Jack really tried to induce him not to, 
 telling him that a man of his education would surely 
 find something better, but it was useless. He said that 
 if he could not enlist here he would go back to New 
 York and enter for service on the frontier, so, finally, 
 it was settled. He was made a corporal in a few weeks, 
 and now he is first sergeant. He is invaluable in that 
 respect ; still, I do wish there were no mystery. I hate 
 mysteries. He is never seen with the men at all, and 
 when not on duty he is always reading. Jack lends 
 him books that no other soldier cares to look at and 
 that they do not have in the troop library. That is what 
 brings him here so often. He comes every day or two 
 with a book he has read and wants another ; but his 
 name isn't Wolf. Somewhere, he has a seal ring with a 
 crest on it, and last month there had been some trouble 
 among the men, and two hard characters had laid in wait 
 for the sergeant one dark night near the stables and 
 assaulted him, but he was too quick and powerful for 
 them, though they escaped last month he brought Jack 
 a sealed packet which he asked him to keep, and if any 
 thing happened to him it was to be returned to an ad 
 dress he gave in Dresden. It's really quite a romance, 
 
 but I wish " And Mrs. Truscott broke off abruptly 
 
 without saying what she did wish. 
 
 Miss Sanford was silent. She had recovered her 
 eelf-control, and the traces of recent tears were vanish-
 
 HEROINES. 55 
 
 ing. Once more Mrs. Truscott seated herself by her 
 side. 
 
 " You will stay with us, won't you ?" she said, with 
 that uninterrogative accent on the "won't" which is 
 indicative of a conviction on part of the questioner that 
 denial is impossible. 
 
 "Yes, Grace, gladly, if Captain Truscott can win 
 papa over to it. I shall be far happier here, and he 
 will at least have peace at home. She will be satisfied 
 and content if I am not there. How can I thank 
 you enough, Gracie ? I had almost made up my mind 
 to ask Mrs. Zabriskie to take me back to Europe 
 with her. You know she returns on the ' Werra' in 
 July." 
 
 " Indeed you shall not. I had counted on having 
 you for bridesmaid, and you would not come home. 
 That was the only disappointment in my wedding ; but, 
 after all, since Mr. Kay couldn't come, there would have 
 been a groomsman short if you had been there." 
 
 " Why didn't he come ? You never told me." 
 
 " Why ? Poor Mr. Ray ! He wrote one of his 
 laughing letters to Jack to say that he'd be switched if 
 he was going to play hangman at his own execution. 
 You never knew such a queer fellow as he is. The real 
 reason was that he could not afford to come East from 
 Kansas and give us a wedding present too. Jack and 
 I would have far rather had him drop the present, but 
 could not see how to tell him. He sent us that lovely 
 ice-cream set, you know, one of the prettiest of all my 
 presents. Everybody thought 'Ray must have been 
 studying up oil art, it was so graceful and pretty. Mr. 
 Gleason, I believe it was, said that Ray wrote to Colo-
 
 56 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 nel Thayer of the lieutenant-general's staff and had him 
 buy it : he was in Chicago when we were married, you 
 know that was Grandmother De Ruyter's stipulation, 
 and that Colonel Thayer, not Ray, was entitled to the 
 credit for taste ; but Jack says that there is far more to 
 Ray than most people give him credit for. He's a loyal 
 friend anyway !" 
 
 " What was the name of that droll creature who was 
 here last April, Drake ? Blake ?" 
 
 " Mr. Blake ? Oh, yes ! He is one of the characters 
 of the regiment. He is the book of nonsense on two 
 very long legs, but he is full of fun and full of good 
 ness. He is not at all Mr. Ray's kind, however. Jack 
 says that Mr. Ray is the man of all others whom he 
 would most expect to come to the front in a general war, 
 and that nothing could shake his faith in him. Ray 
 could never do or say a dishonorable thing." 
 
 " And wasn't it Mr. Ray who saved you when your 
 horse was running away ?" 
 
 " The very man. You glory so in daring horseman 
 ship, Marion, I just wish you could see Ray ride. 
 Jack is splendid, of course, but he is so much larger, 
 heavier, you know. Ray rides as lightly as a bird flies ; 
 he seems just part of a horse, as indeed Jack does, but 
 then there's this difference : Mr. Ray rides over hurdles 
 and ditches and prairie-dog holes and up and down 
 hill just like an Indian, and the wonder is he isn't 
 killed. Jack is a fine horseman, nobody looks better 
 in the saddle than he, but then Jack rarely rides at top 
 speed, never, unless "there's some reason for it. 
 
 " See, Marion, it's almost dark. Shall we go in the 
 parlor and light the lamps ?"
 
 HEROINES. 57 
 
 " Grace, wasn't Mr. Ray just a little bit in love with 
 you once ?" 
 
 " Honestly, Marion, no ! I know he admired me, 
 and I liked him, and had reason to like him greatly, 
 for he was a true friend to me when I wanted one at 
 Sandy. Once he was a wee bit sentimental," and even 
 in the dusk Grace could feel that Marion saw the flush 
 that mounted to her very brows, " but that was when I 
 fainted after the runaway ; never before, never since. 
 Don't talk nonsense, Maidie." 
 
 " I think I should like to know him," said Miss 
 Sanford, as she rose to enter the hall. 
 
 "I know you would. Only well, you might not 
 like him entirely, either. Jack should be here in less 
 than half an hour now, then we'll have tea. Oh, 
 Marion ! I'm so glad you will stay, so will he be." 
 
 On the parlor-table, as they entered, lay two letters. 
 Turning up the gas, Mrs. Truscott scanned the super 
 scriptions. Both were addressed to her husband. One 
 was postmarked Fort Hays. 
 
 " This is the one Jack will open first," she said to 
 her friend. " I don't know whom the other comes 
 from, but this is news from the regiment. It is Mr. 
 Billings's writing, and Jack is always eager for news 
 from him." 
 
 " Mr. Ferris asked me this evening, while we were 
 walking, if Captain Truscott had any news from his 
 regiment. He seemed unusually interested. I could 
 not tell why, but it was something about General Crook 
 being heavily reinforced by troops from somewhere. 
 They were talking of it down at the mess to-day, and 
 Mr. Waring said that if his regiment were ordered on
 
 58 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 that duty, he would apply by telegraph to Washington 
 for orders to join it at once. There was some embar 
 rassment then, because one of the gentlemen present 
 Mr. Ferris wouldn't say who belonged to a regiment 
 already there on that very campaign, and he had not 
 
 applied for orders at all, and wasn't going to, and 
 
 Why, Grace ! What is the matter ?" 
 
 With her face rapidly paling Grace Truscott had 
 stood gazing piteously at her companion, and then, 
 seizing the letter in her trembling hands, she stood 
 glaring at the address. For a moment she made no 
 reply, and again Miss Sanford, alarmed, repeated her 
 question. 
 
 " Marion ! Marion ! It means that I know now 
 why Jack did not show me Major Stannard's last 
 letter. It means that this letter from the adjutant is 
 to tell Jack that the th is ordered < into the field. It 
 means it means" and she threw herself prone upon 
 the sofa, clinching her hands above her head " it means 
 that my dream of delight is shattered ; they will take 
 my husband from me." 
 
 " But how but why, Grace ? I don't understand. 
 Mr. Ferris said distinctly that Captain Truscott would 
 not be affected, that he had just begun his detail here. 
 If an officer doesn't have to go when his regiment is 
 already in the field, how can your husband be re 
 quired ?" 
 
 " Hy husband ! Marion. You don't know him, 
 neither does Mr. Ferris, if that's his idea. My hus 
 band would never wait to be ordered to join his com 
 rades on campaign. If that letter says the th is to 
 go, that ends it all, for Jack will start to-morrow."
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 
 
 WHEN Captain Truscott drove up from the ferry 
 and sprang from the carriage at his gate, a cheerful 
 light beamed from the open door and windows of his 
 home, and Grace, all loving greeting, met him on the 
 piazza. He could not but note the warmth of her em 
 brace and welcome ; but Jack had been in town since 
 early morning, and never before since their marriage 
 had they been separated a single day. In the dim twi 
 light on the piazza he could not see what was apparent as 
 soon as they entered the parlor, that his young wife's 
 face was unusually pale and her lovely eyes showed 
 suspicious trace of tears ; but he could only glance an 
 anxious inquiry, there was then no time for more, as 
 Miss Sanford stood smilingly at the centre-table. 
 
 Truscott stepped forward with his old-fashioned 
 courtesy and bowed over her extended hand. A few 
 words of pleasant welcome and greeting were exchanged, 
 a few inquiries as to whom he had seen in New York 
 and what had been the result of his various commis 
 sions. Then as the dining-room door was opened and 
 the maid announced that tea was served, Truscott looked 
 inquiringly at the table. 
 
 " Any mail, Gracie ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, Jack. I put them under Carlyle ; two 
 letters."
 
 60 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 The captain merely glanced at the superscription of 
 the first letter, but when the second caught his eye, he 
 shot one quick look at his wife, their eyes met, and 
 leaving the first letter upon the table, he stowed the 
 heavier missive in the breast-pocket of the civilian suit 
 he was wearing, led the way to the dining-room door, 
 and there smilingly bowed the ladies to the brightly- 
 lighted table, and demanded of Miss Sanford an imme 
 diate and detailed account of the day's conquests. 
 
 Not until near midnight could Grace see her husband 
 alone. 
 
 It was "band night," and long before they had 
 finished tea rich strains of music came floating in from 
 the parade, and, as is always the case, visitors began to 
 arrive. Several ladies and officers dropped in during 
 the evening ; they sat on the piazza enjoying the sere 
 nade until the shrill piping of the fifes and rattle of the 
 drums sounding tattoo sent the musicians off to bed 
 and numerous pairs of white trousers scurrying towards 
 the cadet barracks. They watched the simultaneous 
 " dousing of the glim" in the long fa9ade as the clock 
 struck ten and the three taps of the drum ordered 
 " lights out." Then they entered the parlor and Grace 
 had to sing. For the last year she had gloried in sing 
 ing, her voice seemed so rich with melody, her heart so 
 rich with joy. To-night all the strange old feeling 
 came back. It made her think of those wretched days 
 at Sandy, when with Jack thousands of miles away, 
 perhaps never to see or speak to her again, she had to 
 sing because her father loved it so. She was a soldier's 
 daughter, a soldier's wife, and she rallied all her strength 
 and pride and strove to be blithe and animated and
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 61 
 
 entertaining. From her first appearance Mrs. Truscott 
 had been a favorite in that somewhat exacting garrison, 
 perhaps the hardest one in the army in which to achieve 
 popularity, because of the various cliques and interests ; 
 and now that that very interesting Miss Sanford was 
 with her, their pretty home on the plain was always a 
 rendezvous for the socially disposed. And so it hap 
 pened that all the long evening neither she nor Jack 
 could obtain release from their duties as entertainers. 
 Eleven o'clock came before the last of the ladies de 
 parted, and then Mr. Ferris lingered for a tdte-d,-tete 
 with Miss Sanford, and poor Grace found herself com 
 pelled to sit and talk with Mr. Barnard, who was a 
 musical devotee and afflicted with a conviction that they 
 ought to sing duets, and Mrs. Truscott could not be in 
 duced to sing duets with any man, unless Jack would 
 try. 
 
 She knew that he had gone to the little library where 
 he kept his favorite books and did his writing. She 
 heard the door close after him, and, with unutterable 
 longing, she desired to go and throw herself upon her 
 favorite perch, his knee, and twine her arms around his 
 neck and bury her head upon his broad shoulder. She 
 could think of nothing but that fateful letter from 
 Hays. She wished that it might be Mr. Waring who 
 had come in, for he was in the cavalry and would know 
 something of what really was going on out on the fron 
 tier. She was feverishly anxious to learn the truth, and 
 twice directed the talk that way, but Mr. Barnard was 
 obtuse. He only vaguely knew from remarks he had 
 heard at mess that General Crook had called for rein 
 forcements, and that Sheridan was ordering up cavalry 
 
 6
 
 62 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and infantry to his support. He did not know what 
 cavalry, in fact, he did not care, he was in the artil 
 lery, and, forgetful of Modoc experiences, believed that 
 Indian fighting was an abnormal species of warfare of 
 which men of his advanced education were not expected 
 to take cognizance. That it ever could call for more 
 science, skill, and pluck than the so-called civilized wars 
 of which Mr. Barnard was a conscientious student he 
 would probably never have admitted, and his comment 
 at mess on the frequently-recurring tales of unsuccessful 
 attack upon savage foes was the comprehensive remark 
 that the affair must have been badly handled ; " those 
 fellows of the cavalry didn't seem to understand the 
 nature of the work they had to tackle." As those 
 were the days before a cavalry superintendent went to 
 the Academy and showed an astonished academic board 
 what a cavalryman's idea of scholarship and discipline 
 really was, it followed that the corps of instructors was 
 made up almost entirely from the more scientific arms ; 
 only two or three cavalrymen were on the detail of forty 
 officers, and they were mainly for duty as instructors in 
 tactics and horsemanship. So when Mr. Barnard dream 
 ily blew the smoke of his cigarette through his elevated 
 nostrils and gave it as his opinion that those cavalry 
 fellows didn't seem to understand their work, his audi 
 ence, consisting mainly of staff and artillery officers, 
 gave the acquiescence of silence or the nod of wisdom ; 
 and the casual visitor would have left with the impres 
 sion that the whole mistake of this Indian business lay 
 in failure to consult the brilliantly-trained intellects of 
 the higher corps. Odd as it may seem, it is the men 
 who have had the least to do with Indians and Indian
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 63 
 
 fighting who have apparently the most ideas on the sub 
 ject. This is not a paradox. Those who have spent 
 several years at it probably started in with just as many, 
 and exploded them one after another. 
 
 Mr. Barnard, therefore, was more intent on humming 
 the tenor part of " See the Pale Moon" than of afford 
 ing Mrs. Truscott any information as to rumors of the 
 orders sending additional troops to the field, but her 
 anxiety was only slightly appeased by his airy dismissal 
 of the subject. 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Truscott, I would not feel any concern 
 in the matter; with the forces now concentrated up 
 there in the Yellowstone country, the result is a fore 
 gone conclusion. The Indians will simply be sur 
 rounded and starved into surrender." 
 
 At last they went. Mr. Ferris with evident reluc 
 tance and not until he had plainly received intimation 
 from Miss Sanford that it was more than time. 
 Knowing Mrs. Truscott well, she could see what was 
 imperceptible to their visitors, that the strain was be 
 coming almost unbearable. The moment they were 
 gone she turned to her friend. 
 
 "I must write a short letter before going to bed, 
 Grace dear. Now go to him at once;" then impul 
 sively she threw her arms around her. " I shall pray 
 it is not true," she murmured, then turned and ran 
 quickly to her room. 
 
 Mrs. Truscott closed and bolted the front door, 
 turned out the parlor lights, and stepped quickly to 
 the library ; then she paused a moment before turning 
 the knob : her heart was beating heavily, her hands 
 trembling. She strove hard to control the weakness
 
 (54 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 which had seized her, and, for support, rested her head 
 upon the casement and took two or three long breaths ; 
 then with a murmured prayer for strength she gently 
 opened the door, and the soft swish of her trailing skirts 
 announced her presence. 
 
 His back was towards her as she entered ; he was 
 seated in a low-backed library-chair, with both elbows 
 upon the writing-table before him, and resting his head 
 upon the left hand in an attitude that was habitual 
 with him when seated there thinking. Before him, 
 opened, lay a long letter, the adjutant's letter from 
 Hays. A pen was in his hand, but not a scratch had 
 he made on the virgin surface of the paper. Truscott 
 never so much as wrote the date until he had fully 
 made up his mind what the entire letter should be, and 
 he had far from made up his mind what to say in this. 
 
 Without a word Mrs. Truscott stole quietly up be 
 hind him. He had been expecting her any moment ; 
 he knew well she would come the instant her visitors 
 left her free; he was listening, waiting for her step, 
 and had heard Miss Sanford trip lightly up-stairs. 
 Then came the soft, quick pitapat of her tiny feet 
 along the hall and the frou-frou of the skirts, never 
 yet could he hear it without a little thrill of passionate 
 delight. He half turned in readiness to welcome her, 
 his love, his wife ; then came her pause at the door, a 
 new, an unknown hesitancy, for from the first he had 
 taught her that she alone could never be unwelcome, 
 undesired, no matter what his occupation in the sanctum, 
 and Jack's heart stood still while hers was throbbing 
 heavily. Could she have heard? Could she have 
 suspected? Must he tell her to-night? He turned
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. (55 
 
 again to the desk as she entered, and waited for some 
 thing he loved more than he could ever tell, her own 
 greeting. 
 
 Often when he was reading or writing during the 
 day, and she, on household cares intent, was tripping 
 lightly about the house, singing sweetly, softly as she 
 passed the library, and bursting into carolling melody 
 when at undisturbing distance away, it was odd to note 
 the many little items that required her frequent incur 
 sions on the sanctum itself, books to be straightened 
 and dusted, scraps of writing-paper to be tidied up, 
 maps to be rolled and tied. Mollie, the housemaid, could 
 sweep or tend the fires in that domestic centre, the cap 
 tain's den, but none but the young housewife herself 
 presumed to touch a pen or dust a tome. Jack's morn 
 ings were mainly taken up at the barracks, riding-hall, 
 or in mounted drill far out on the cavalry plain, whence 
 his ringing baritone voice could reach her admiring earb 
 and for it was only honeymoon with her still set her 
 to wondering if it really were possible that that splen 
 did fellow were her own, her very own ; and time and 
 again Mrs. Grace would find herself stopping short in 
 her avocation and going to the front windows and gaz 
 ing with all her lovely brown eyes over to the whirling 
 dust-cloud on the eastern plain and revelling in the 
 power and ring of Jack's commanding voice, and going 
 off into day-dreams. Was it possible that there had 
 been a great, a fearful war, in which the whole country 
 was threatened with ruin, and hundreds of men had 
 made wonderful names for themselves, and Jack not one 
 of them, Jack, her hero, her soldier beyond compare? 
 Could it be that the war was fought and won without 
 e 6*
 
 66 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 him ? But then, who could be braver in action, wiser 
 in council, than he ? Did not the th worship him to 
 a man? Was not Indian fighting the most trying, 
 hazardous, terrible of all warfares, and was not Jack 
 pre-eminent as an Indian-fighter? Was there not a 
 deep scar on his breast that would have been deeper and 
 redder but for her little filmy handkerchief that stopped 
 the cruel arrow just in time? Was any one so gallant, 
 so noble, so gentle, so tender, true, faithful, um-rn-m, 
 sweet? was the way Mrs. Grace's intensified thoughts 
 would have found expression, had she dared, even to 
 herself, to give them utterance? And he loved her! 
 he loved her ! and heavens and earth ! but this isn't 
 practising, or housework either; and pretty, happy, 
 blushing Mrs. Truscott would shake herself together, 
 so to speak, and try to get back to the programme of 
 daily duty she had so conscientiously mapped out for 
 herself. Perhaps it was because she accomplished so 
 little in the mornings that, when Jack betook himself 
 to his study for his two hours of reading or writing in 
 the afternoon, his witching wife would find such frequent 
 need of entering. At first she had been accustomed to 
 trip in on tiptoe after a timid little knock and the query, 
 " Do I disturb you, Jack dear ?" a query which he 
 answered with quite superfluous assurance to the con 
 trary. Later, even after their wise conclusion that they 
 must be rational, she had been accustomed to put the 
 question, not at all as a purely perfunctory marital 
 civility, but, as she shyly admitted to herself, because 
 it was so sweet to hear Jack's negation and see the love- 
 light in the eyes that soon brought her, fascinated and 
 fluttering, to be folded in his arms a moment. Later
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 67 
 
 still, so confident had she become in her dominion, both 
 knock and query were abandoned, and, unless only five 
 minutes or so had elapsed since the previous visit, she 
 had a pretty little way of greeting him that, though 
 very gradually acquired despite surging impulse, was 
 at last quite a settled fact, and he loved it, well, he 
 would have been an unappreciative, undeserving brute 
 had he not. She would steal behind him, lean over the 
 back of the chair (Jack refused to exchange it for the 
 high-backed one suggested by Mrs. Pelham on the oc 
 casion of a brief visit paid them in March), and, twin 
 ing her arms around his neck, would draw back his head 
 till it rested on her bosom, then sink her soft, sweet lips 
 upon his forehead. It was this he waited for to-night, 
 and not in vain. 
 
 Another minute and he had drawn her around and 
 seated her on his knee, folding her closely in his arms. 
 But soon she gently released herself, slipped to the 
 little ottoman that stood always ready by his chair, and, 
 clasping her hands upon his knee, looked bravely up 
 in his face. No need to speak one word, no need to 
 break it to her ; he saw she well divined that news, and 
 hard news, had come from the frontier, news which 
 meant more to her than to any woman at West Point. 
 
 " Shall I read it, Gracie ?" he presently asked, gently 
 stroking the shining, shimmering wealth of her hair, 
 her glory and his. She bowed lower her head and 
 clasped tightly her hands. 
 
 " One word first, Jack. Does the th go ?" 
 
 " Yes, darling." 
 
 She shivered as though a sudden chill had seized 
 her, but spoke no word. Truscott bent and strove to
 
 68 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 draw her again to his breast, but she roused herself 
 with gallant effort, threw back her head and again 
 looked bravely up in his eyes. 
 
 " No ; I'll bear it best here, Jack. I won't 
 
 Read it, dear." 
 
 "My brave girlie!" was all he said, as his eyes 
 moistened suspiciously and his hand lingered in its 
 caress upon her soft cheek. 
 
 " Tt's from Billings, you know." 
 
 " Yes, Jack ; go on." 
 
 And then he read to her : 
 
 " FOKT HAYS, KANSAS, June 6, '76. 
 "DEAR TRUSCOTT, Stannard showed me your 
 letter and bade me answer it. There was no time 
 for him to do it, and I myself am writing on the 
 jump.' You sized up the situation about as com 
 prehensively as Crook himself could have done it, 
 and your predictions have come true. Eight troops 
 of the regiment left night before last by rail for 
 Cheyenne via Denver, and by this time headquarters 
 and most of the th are tenting somewhere near 
 Fort Russell, where we are all to take station and 
 wait further developments. The band follows as fast 
 as we can pack up plunder and be off. It means, 
 of course, a permanent transfer of the regiment to 
 the Department of the Platte, and from the mere 
 fact that the colonel and eight companies were hurried 
 ahead, there can be no question but that we are des 
 tined to take part in the campaign against Sitting 
 Bull, Crazy Horse, etc., and for myself, I'm glad 
 of it.
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 69 
 
 " But I'm glad you weren't here, Jack. There was 
 weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth among the 
 women-folks, and some two or three Benedicts looked 
 bluer than brimstone. You know they had counted 
 on a peaceful summer and a good time, and it's par 
 ticularly rough on those who had fitted up their 
 quarters so handsomely and had young ladies to visit 
 them, like the Raymonds and others. Most of them 
 have to break up and go East, but as six troops are 
 to take permanent station at Russell, yours among 
 them, those who are ordered there will simply move 
 from Hays to Russell with us, as the officers can choose 
 quarters on the way up ; for up we are going, and I'll 
 bet a farm we water our horses in the Yellowstone 
 before we see Russell a second time. As soon as packed 
 I shall move all baggage to Russell, public and per 
 sonal, escort the ladies thither and see them comfortably 
 settled in their new quarters. Mrs. Stannard, Mrs. 
 Turner, and Mrs. Wilkins (of course) go to Russell 
 with us. Old Whaling of the Infantry is to remain 
 in command there until the campaign is over, as it 
 will be the main supply depot. His wife is an enliven 
 ing Christian, a sort of Mrs. Gummidge and Mrs. 
 Malaprop rolled into one, but, barring a sensational 
 tendency and a love for theatricals in every-day life, 
 there is nothing dangerous about her. I'm glad my 
 own wife will be able to remain with the home people, 
 for Mrs. Whaling would scare the life out of her with 
 her tales of fearful adventure in the Indian country, 
 and I don't quite like the idea of our ladies being 
 subjected to her ministrations during the separation. 
 However, Mrs. Stannard will be there, and she's a
 
 70 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 balance-wheel. Bless that woman ! What would we 
 do without her ? 
 
 "Now, Jack, a word from Stannard himself. He 
 said to write you fully, that nothing might be concealed. 
 Stryker's letter is straight to the point. It is going to be 
 the biggest Indian war the country has ever seen, and 
 one in which there must be hard fighting. Armed, 
 equipped, and supplied and mounted as those Sioux 
 and Cheyennes are, it will take our best to thrash 
 them. Stannard says that you must be influenced 
 in your action by no misrepresentation one way or- 
 other. No man in the regiment can say in his presence 
 or mine that you have not done your full share of In 
 dian work, and no gentleman in the regiment will 
 blame you should you see fit to stick to the Point and 
 let the rest of us tackle Mr. Lo. You are the only 
 newly-married man in the crowd. On the other hand, 
 your troop is commanded in your absence by Gleason, 
 whom well, you know him better than I ; and in his 
 absence by young Wells, who is to take his first lesson 
 in campaigning this summer. Just as luck would have 
 it, Gleason and Ray were ordered to Leavenworth on a 
 horse board, and were not here to go with the command. 
 Ray heard of the move and telegraphed, begging Stan 
 nard to get him relieved and sent at once to the regi 
 ment, but the board was ordered at division head 
 quarters and 'twas no use. Ray will have to stay 
 until the horses are all bought ; and I'm bound to say 
 he did his best to get back. For some reason, which I 
 could better explain if I didn't have to write, Ray and 
 I don't seem to ' gee.' He has been offish to me ever 
 since our first meeting here, and was one of the men
 
 IMPENDING SHADOWS. 1\ 
 
 hose failure 'to congratulate me on the adjutancy I 
 
 It. Then I heard of some unjustifiable though, per- 
 
 ips, natural things he said. However, let that slide. 
 
 wish you were adjutant again, that's all. Very prob- 
 
 )ly the others do too. The colonel telegraphed to all 
 
 ficers on leave, and every blessed one responded inside 
 
 ? twenty-four hours, ' Coming first train, you bet/ or 
 
 ords to that effect. It makes one proud of the old 
 
 -th. Gleason hasn't chirped, but then he is sonie- 
 
 here in central Iowa buying. They say Ray's 
 
 rother-in-law is one of the largest horse-dealers, and 
 
 tannard clamps his mug and looks ugly when it is 
 
 )oken of. He knows something about him, and was 
 
 good deal stampeded when he heard Ray was being 
 
 ined and dined by him at Kansas City. But, be it 
 
 nderstood, I don't think Ray has any suspicion of 
 
 tannard's objection to the man. And now, Jack, I'll 
 
 ind up this rigmarole. It is long after taps, and the 
 
 len are still at work packing. I've been interrupted 
 
 me and again, and this is all incoherency. If you 
 
 ecide to join, let it not be said for an instant that the 
 
 lintest urging came from us. Address your next to 
 
 lussell. The colonel forbade my telegraphing you lest 
 
 fc might sound- like a hint. My compliments to Mrs. 
 
 ?ruscott, and tell her I saw her old friend Ranger off 
 
 or the wars two nights ago ; likewise that young imp 
 
 >f the devil, the Kid. Tanner's old troop isn't what 
 
 t was in his day. 
 
 " Yours always faithfully, 
 
 " BILLIXGS." 
 
 Long before he had finished reading she had bowed
 
 72 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 her head upon her hands, but there came no sound. 
 At last he laid the letter down, and then bent over her. 
 
 " Grace, darling !" 
 
 Slowly she lifted her eyes and looked up in his face. 
 All the light, all the joy and gladness had fled. Her 
 lips moved as though to question, but a hard, dry lump 
 seemed to have formed in her throat; she could not 
 speak. His strong hands trembled as they gently 
 raised her from the lowly attitude in which she had 
 been crouching at his knee. He would have drawn 
 her to his breast again, but she put her little hands 
 upon his shoulder and held herself back. Twice she 
 essayed to speak before the words came, 
 
 "Jack, God knows I have tried to be ready for 
 this. But is there no way ? I never thought to stand 
 between you and your duty your honor. I would 
 not I would not now if I were all. Oh, Jack, my 
 husband, there there is another reason." 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 MAEION SANFOED. 
 
 As a school-girl Marion Sanford started by being un 
 popular. On first acquaintance there were very few girls 
 in Madame Reichard's excellent establishment who did 
 not decide that she was cold and unsympathetic. Cour 
 teous, well-bred, self-possessed, she was to a fault, but 
 unpardonable sin in school-girl eyes she shrank from 
 those dear and delicious intimacies, those mushroom
 
 MARION SANFORD. 73 
 
 friendships of our tender years, that are as explosive as 
 fire-crackers and as evanescent as the smoke thereof. 
 The volumes of satire that have been written on the 
 subject have exhausted the field and rendered new ideas 
 out of the question, but they have in no wise dimin 
 ished the impetuosity with which such friendships are 
 daily, hourly entered into, and they never will. Ours is 
 a tale which has little that is new and less that is di 
 dactic. Army life and army loves differ, after all, but 
 little from those which one sees in every community. 
 Human nature is the same the world over, despite our 
 different tenets and traditions. Boys are as full of mis 
 chief and sure to get into scrapes as in the days of Eli 
 jah and the bears. Girls have had their sweet secrets 
 and desperate intimacies with one another since long 
 before Elijah was heard of. Nothing one can say is 
 apt to put a stop to what the Almighty set in motion. 
 Let us not rail at what we cannot correct, but make the 
 best of it. Let us accept the truth. School-girls meet, 
 take desperate and sudden fancies, swear eternal friend 
 ships, have eternal tiffs and squabbles, kiss and make 
 up, fall out again, and as they grow in grace and wis 
 dom they keep up the system, simply taking a new ob 
 ject every few months. It is one of their weaknesses 
 by divine right, over which common sense has no more 
 control than it has over most of ours. 
 
 But Marion Sanford had no such weakness. Being 
 destitute of the longing for intimate and confidential 
 intercourse with some equally romantic sister, she was 
 spared the concomitant heartburnings, recriminations, 
 and enmities. She passed her first year at the school 
 without an intimate friend. She left it without an
 
 74 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 enemy. Hers was not the most brilliant mind in the 
 class. She was not the valedictorian of the school on 
 that eventful day when, 
 
 " Sweet girl-graduates with their shining hair," 
 
 they listened in tears and white muslin to Madame's 
 parting injunctions; but her last two years at the old 
 pension had been very precious to her. Grace Pelham 
 was her room-mate, and Grace Pelham's loving arms 
 had opened to her when, motherless and heart-broken, 
 Marion Sanford had returned from the second year's 
 summer vacation. Between the two girls there had 
 gradually grown a deep and faithful friendship, born 
 of mutual respect and esteem. It would be saying too 
 much to assert that at first there had been no differences. 
 Four years at one school give opportunities which are 
 illimitable, but the present writer knew neither of them 
 in the bread-and-butter period, and was properly re 
 proved by the one and snubbed by the other when, in 
 the supposed superiority of his years and co-extensive 
 views on the frangibility of feminine friendship, he had 
 sought to raise the veil .of the past and peer into the 
 archives of those school-days. Partly from school 
 mates and partly from observation the author formed 
 his opinion of what Marion Sanford had been as an 
 undergraduate. What she became the candid reader 
 must judge for self. 
 
 For a woman she was reticent to a marked degree in 
 discussing the faults and foibles of others. She was 
 slow to anger, loath to believe ill of a man or woman, 
 truth-loving, sincere, and simple-hearted. She had not
 
 MARION SANFORD. 75 
 
 been the most studious girl at school. Deep down in 
 her heart of hearts she had a vein of romance that made 
 the heroes of fiction the idols of a vivid imagination. 
 Wilfrid of Ivanhoe, Sir Galahad, Launcelot, William 
 Wallace, Bayard, Philip Sidney, were men whom she 
 fondly believed to have existed in other shapes and names 
 time and again, and yet she was staggered in her faith 
 because the annals of our matter-of-fact days told no such 
 tales as those she loved of knighthood and chivalry. 
 Once once she had found a modern hero. Heaven 
 only knows to what a wild worship would not that brief 
 dream have expanded had she not seen him. He was 
 the elder brother of one of her friends at school, a navy 
 officer, a man who when his ship was cut down by a 
 blundering Briton, and sent to the bottom with over a 
 hundred gallant hearts high-beating because " home 
 ward bound," he, the young ensign, gave his whole 
 strength, his last conscious minute to getting the help 
 less into the lowered boats, and was the last man in the 
 " sick-bay" before the stricken ship took her final plunge, 
 carrying him into the vortex with a fevered boy in his 
 strong young arms. Both were unconscious when hauled 
 into safety, and that ensign, said Marion, was the man 
 she would marry. She was less than sixteen and had 
 never seen him. The nearest approach to a desperate 
 intimacy she ever had was with that fellow's sister : a 
 girl of hitherto faint attractions. At last the ensign 
 came to the school, such a day of excitement ! and as 
 a great, a very great concession, Madame had permitted 
 that he should be allowed in her presence to speak with 
 his sister's most intimate friends. She was threatened 
 with popularity for the time being, and Marion was pre-
 
 76 MAJRIOWS FAITH. 
 
 sented. The hero of her four months' dream was a 
 stoutly-built youth of twenty-five, with florid complex 
 ion and hair, and a manner so painfully shy and em 
 barrassed that additional color was lent to his sun- 
 blistered features. He had faced death without a tremor 
 and, in the most matter-of-fact way in the world, had 
 saved three lives at the imminent risk of his own, but 
 he could not face these wide-eyed, worshipping school 
 girls, and was manifestly ill at ease in a very unbecom 
 ing civilian suit. Still, he wriggled through the inter 
 view and made his escape, leaving only a modified 
 sensation behind. The fatal coup occurred next day 
 when, as prearranged, he came to say farewell. This 
 time Jack Tar had braced for the occasion, and was 
 unexpectedly hilarious and demonstrative. In bidding 
 good-by to his sister he had effusively embraced her, 
 then turned suddenly upon Marion, and before she could 
 dream of what was coming, had caught her in his arms 
 and imprinted upon her fresh young lips a bacchanalian 
 salute that left thereon a mingled essence of Angostura 
 bitters, cloves, and tobacco, and drove her in dismay 
 and confusion from the room to seek her own in a pas 
 sion of angry tears and disenchantment. Never before 
 in her life had she known such an affront. Never for 
 long afterwards did she worship modern heroes. 
 
 But while she sought no intimacies, as a school-girl her 
 friendship and affection for Grace Pelham strengthened 
 with every week of their association . Their 1 ast two years 
 at school were spent as room-mates, and then Marion 
 had gone almost immediately abroad. Some hint has 
 been conveyed to the reader of a domestic unpleasantness 
 in the Sanford homestead. Sanford paterfamilias was a
 
 MARION SANFORD. 77 
 
 successful business man of large means and small sen 
 sibilities. His first wife, Marion's mother, was a New 
 York beauty, a sweet, sensitive, refined, and delicate 
 girl ; in fine, " a sacrifice at the altar of Mammon." 
 She married Mr. Sanford when she was eighteen and 
 he thirty-eight, and she married him because the family 
 necessities were such that she could not help herself. 
 Marion was their first child, the darling of a young 
 mother's heart, and later, the pride of a fond father's. 
 Yet, before that daughter was eighteen she was called 
 upon to welcome in the place of her idolized mother 
 who had died after some years of patient suffering 
 the children's governess. It marred all joys of gradu 
 ation, so far as Miss Sanford was concerned. She had 
 gone home in obedience to her conviction of filial duty, 
 and had striven to make her little sister and her brother 
 believe that thejiew mamma was all that she should be. 
 She had been conscientiously earnest in her effort to 
 like in her new rdle the ex-governess, whom she had 
 found it impossible to believe in before. The effort 
 was a failure, due quite as much to the jealous and 
 suspicious nature of the lady of the house as to Miss 
 Sanford's unconquerable prejudice. Pretences for rup 
 ture were easily found ; the rupture came ; Mrs. San 
 ford did all the talking, Miss Sanford said nothing. 
 When her father came home from the city he found 
 his new wife in tears and his daughter fled. The 
 Frenchman who wrote les absents ont toujours tort was 
 undoubtedly thinking of the field as left in possession 
 of a woman, and that Mrs. Sanford's recital of the 
 trouble was a finished calumny at Marion's expense we 
 are spared the necessity of asserting. In her few words 
 
 7*
 
 78 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 written to. her father that day, Miss Sanford simply 
 said that she was going to pay a brief visit to the 
 Zabriskies ; but in less than a fortnight, with his full 
 consent and a liberal allowance, she went with them 
 abroad. That his experiences in his new marital rela 
 tions were not blissful we may conjecture from the fact 
 that he soon found reason to believe that he couldn't 
 believe Mrs. Sanford. Unbelief grew to conviction 
 and developed into profound distrust. Still, as she not 
 infrequently had to remind him, she was his lawfully 
 wedded wife, and held the fort. He aged rapidly, and 
 his struggles for the mastery were futile. She was 
 young, active, healthy, and wise as the serpent. He 
 mourned for his absent daughter, and when, yielding to 
 her own yearnings, she returned to America in the 
 spring of the Centennial year, he sent for her to come 
 to him. She went, and remained as long as she could, 
 but in leaving, she told him, with eyes that filled and 
 lips that quivered but never shrank, that it was her 
 last visit so long as her step-mother remained beneath 
 the roof, and he broke down and sobbed like a little 
 child, but sought not to dissuade her. 
 
 " Her mother's fortune," said the 'Mrs. Grundys of 
 Fort Hays, was now her own ; but her mother had no 
 fortune, and if she had, it would have been shared by 
 the two other children. In the old days her father had 
 laughingly bought and set aside for Marion's own ac 
 count some government bonds and some railway stocks ; 
 the latter at time of purchase being practically drugs 
 on the market. In fifteen years they were at a heavy 
 premium. When it came to parting, he had placed 
 these bonds with all their undipped coupons to her
 
 MARION SANFORD. 79 
 
 credit at his banker's, and she was mistress of a little 
 fortune it seemed to her, which, added to the liberal 
 allowance he insisted on keeping up, gave her far more 
 than she could ever spend on herself even were her 
 tastes extravagant. 
 
 She dressed richly ; she would have nothing that was 
 not of the best, but she was never wasteful. It had 
 been her habit to keep accurate account of her expendi 
 ture, and to send her father a quarterly balance-sheet 
 that was a delight to his pragmatical eyes. He would 
 have doubled her allowance her last two years at school, 
 but she would not agree to it. She was in deep mourn 
 ing and in sore distress, and money was the one thing 
 she had no use for. All the same he paid it to her ac 
 count, as he termed it, and in due time the money be 
 came her own. She had loved him dearly despite his 
 rough exterior and what she thought his lack of ap 
 preciation of her gentle mother. But when he married 
 the governess before that second winter's snow had 
 mantled the hallowed grave, her soul rebelled in indig 
 nation and dismay. For a year her heart had held out 
 against him, and softened only when she saw that he 
 was breaking under the self-imposed burden, a shrew 
 ish second wife. However, Mrs. San ford "held the 
 fort," as has been said, and Marion, high-spirited, sen - 
 sitive, refined, and loving, was entering on her twentieth 
 year without a home. 
 
 Was she pretty ? Yes. More than pretty, said those 
 who knew her best. She was simply lovely. But alas 
 for those to whom disappointment is sure to come, she 
 was a decided blonde. 
 
 A fairer, lovelier, whiter skin than Marion Sanford's
 
 80 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 was rarely seen; her complexion was wellnigh fault 
 less, her eyes were large, clear, full of thought and 
 truth and expression, and in tint a deep, deep blue, 
 shaded, like Grace Truscott's, with curling lashes, not 
 so long, but thick and sweeping ; her hair was too dark, 
 perhaps, for the purity of her blond complexion. It 
 was a shining, wavy brown, very soft, thick, and lux 
 uriant. She would be far more striking, said her 
 commentators, had she real blond hair, but those who 
 grew to know her well soon lost sight of the defect. 
 Her mouth was a trifle large, but her teeth were perfect, 
 and the lips so soft, so sweetly curved, that one readily 
 forgave the deviation from the strict rule of facial 
 unity when watching her frequent smiles. In stature 
 she was perhaps below, as Grace was above, the medium 
 height of womanhood, but her figure was exquisite. 
 Her neck and arms were a soft and creamy white, 
 and the perfection of roundness and grace. " She must 
 lace fearfully," was the invariable comment of the 
 sisterhood on first acquaintance. In truth, she did not 
 lace at all. It was a fault beyond her control, but her 
 waist was perhaps too small. Her hands and feet were 
 not like Grace's, long and slender. They were tiny, 
 but her hand was plump and white and might be com 
 pressible. It was undeniably pretty, and her foot was 
 always so stylishly shod that its shape was outlined 
 most attractively. 
 
 But what would have made Marion Sanford at 
 tractive had she been simply plain instead of pretty, 
 was her manner. Cold and unsympathetic had been 
 the original school-girl verdict pronounced because 
 of her distaste for imparting confidences. This was
 
 MARION SANFORD. gl 
 
 amended in her second year, abandoned in her third, 
 and would have been attacked, if asserted, in her 
 fourth. Over no girl's departure was there such 
 frantic lamentation among the younger scholars as 
 over Marion's. They had learned to love her. To 
 all who were her elders there was gentle deference, 
 to her equals and associates a frank and cordial bearing 
 without degeneration into " confidences." To younger 
 girls and to children Marion Sanford was an angel, 
 the sweetest, the gentlest, the kindest, the most winning 
 girl that lived. No matter who was with her, no 
 matter what her occupation, for them she had ever 
 smiles and sunshiny greeting. It was to her the 
 younger girls soon learned to go in homesickness or 
 troubles, sure of welcome to her arms and comfort 
 in her sympathy ; it was to her that the wee toddlers 
 were never afraid to run for " sweeties," or refuge from 
 pursuing nurse-maids; it was to her that girls of 
 younger sets, accustomed to being snubbed and put 
 down by those two years older, would yield the out 
 spoken homage of loyal subjects. She was Queen 
 Marion to the youngsters of the school, brave, wise, 
 and, oh ! so generous ; while to the chosen few in 
 the class, who knew something of her love for the 
 heroic, she was Maid Marion, but only "Maidie" to 
 one, her loyal and faithful ally, Grace. 
 
 She was still abroad in the fall of '75 when that 
 quiet wedding took place which she was vainly im 
 plored to attend as first bridesmaid. Three years had 
 elapsed since her mother's death, but her heart was 
 still in mourning. But early in the spring of the 
 Centennial year, after a stormy passage, she was safely
 
 82 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 restored to her own land, and the evening after the 
 arrival of their party Captain and Mrs. Truscott were 
 dining with them at the Clarendon. There had been 
 a brief, a very brief call from her father and step 
 mother, and then she accepted Grace's invitation to 
 come to them at the Point. A slight illness of Mr. 
 Sanford's made it necessary to abandon the visit at the 
 time, as she was telegraphed for before she had been 
 forty-eight hours at the Point. The month that fol 
 lowed settled the question as to future relations with 
 Mrs. Sanford. She would meet her father whenever 
 or wherever he wanted except under that roof; on 
 that point she was adamant, and he neither could nor 
 did blame her. And so it resulted that she was once 
 more with Grace and the "Admirable Crichton," as 
 she had been accustomed to allude to him in her letters 
 for the past year ; and up to the moment of his return 
 from the city he was the only hero who had appeared 
 to her eyes in that manufacturing centre where the 
 article is supposed to be turned out at the rate of fifty 
 a year. It never had occurred to her that men so 
 particular about the cut of their uniform trousers, 
 the set of a " blouse," or the nice adjustment of the 
 hair could by any possibility develop heroic qualities, 
 and yet Captain Truscott always looked as though he 
 had stepped out of a band-box. 
 
 It was late when she went to her room this lovely 
 night in June. It was true that she had one or two 
 letters to write, but they were very brief. She longed 
 to have Grace come to her and tell her the result of her 
 interview with Jack, and she longed to know what that 
 letter would say. Never for an instant had it occurred
 
 MARION SANFORD. 83 
 
 to her that at a moment's notice a home could be aban 
 doned, a young wife left to mourn, a delightful station 
 left to anybody who wanted the place, and all as an 
 every-day incident of army life. That such things 
 could be expected and demanded in the midst of a 
 mortal struggle for national honor was another mat 
 ter entirely, something to be encountered once in a 
 lifetime, and something to be cherished in family tra 
 dition as grand, patriotic, heroic, and worthy of keeping 
 in remembrance from generation to generation ; but that 
 to do all this merely as a piece of duty because one's 
 particular regiment happened to be setting forth on 
 probably hazardous service, but of a trivial nature as 
 compared with the interests involved in the only war 
 she heard much talked of, why, she never dreamed 
 of such a possibility, and her ideas were no more vague 
 than are those of the general public on precisely the 
 same subject. 
 
 Twelve o'clock struck from the great bell over at the 
 tower, and still Grace and her husband remained below. 
 It was time high time to go to bed, said Miss Sanford, 
 though still perplexed, anxious, and distressed. Grace 
 would surely come to her as soon as matters were de 
 cided. She stepped to her window to take a good-night 
 look at the moonlit plain. Drawing aside the curtain, 
 she peered through the blinds. Standing in silence at 
 the front gate, leaning on the iron fence and gazing 
 fixedly in the direction of the library window which 
 opened toward the north, there appeared the figure of a 
 man. A moment he stood there motionless, attentive. 
 Then, without a sound, he swung back the gate, and 
 quickly and almost on tipton, it soemed to her, stepped
 
 84 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 up the walk, passed through a broad, moonlit space, 
 and was as quickly lost to sight and hearing around the 
 corner of the house. She recognized the form and 
 bearing at a glance. The man was Sergeant "Wolf. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT THE FRONT. 
 
 RARE indeed is a day in June ! Warmth and frag 
 rance, sunshine and roses, strawberries, straw hats, 
 summer costumes, music and moonlight, soft zephyrs, 
 softer speeches, softest of swains have we left at the 
 Point. Farewells sweet, sad, sentimental some of 
 them have been said. The corps of cadets has gone 
 to the Centennial with thousands of sight-seers from all 
 over the nation. They hardly had dared hope for such 
 an unaccustomed delight. They had not expected to 
 go, but went. The nation flocks to Philadelphia, but 
 out in the Northwest some hundreds of its defenders are 
 flocking in another direction. Come with us and take 
 another look at our old friends of the th. They had 
 expected to go, but didn't. 
 
 It is a rare, rare day in June, but where are the soft 
 breezes, the sweet fragrance, the blossoms and the bliss 
 of that month of months at the dear old Point ? Rare 
 indeed is the breeze, cloudless the sky, brilliant, beam 
 ing, magnificent, the sunshine, but not a leaf stirs in 
 answering rustle to the wind. Far and near nc patch
 
 AT THE FRONT. 85 
 
 if shade delights or tempts the eye. Look where you 
 vvill, look for miles and miles over boundless expanse 
 )f rolling upland, of ridge and ravine, of dip and 
 1 divide/-' of butte and swale, no speck of foliage, no 
 vision is there of even isolated tree. The solid earth 
 oeneath our feet is carpeted with dense little bunches 
 )f buffalo-grass, juicy, life-giving, yet bleaching already 
 }f the faint hues of green that came peeping through 
 :he last snows left in May. Tiny wild flowers purple 
 ohe surface near us, but blend into the colorless effect 
 of the general distance. We stand on a wave of petri 
 fied ocean, tumbling in wild upheaval close at hand; 
 stretching away to the east in a league-long level flat as 
 the barn floor of tradition, and bare as the description. 
 Far to the east the prairie rolls up to the horizon 
 wave after wave till none is seen beyond. Far to the 
 north, bare and treeless, too, the same effect is main 
 tained. Far to the south, across an intervening low 
 land one would call a valley elsewhere, the ground 
 rises against the sky, until its monotonous gray-green 
 meets the gray-blue of the southern heaven ; but west 
 of south, what have we here ? The farthest wave of 
 prairie surges, not against the naked sky, but against 
 a cold gray range, whose peaks and turrets are seamed 
 and sprinkled with glistening snow. Aye, there they 
 stand, the monarchs of the Rockies ; there through the 
 short summer sunshine their lofty crests defy the melting 
 rays and bear their plumage through the very dog-days, 
 to greet and welcome the first, faint, timid snow-flakes 
 of the early fall. There they gleam and glisten, no 
 longer as we saw them from the Kansas plains, dim 
 in the western distance, unapproachable, but close at 
 
 8
 
 86 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 hand, neighborly, sheltering, for we nestle under their 
 very shoulders. Here, to the west, just behind us, no 
 great day's walk away and seemingly far nearer, in 
 jagged outline against the blue of heaven, are the 
 guardians of the old transcontinental pass. Here, to 
 the west, where you see the rugged spurs jutting out 
 from the range, runs the old trail which the engineers 
 have followed, and carried the Union Pacific to its 
 greatest altitude between the oceans. Far out there 
 among the buttes runs that climbing ridge, yet it seems 
 so close, so neighborly with the foreshortening of that 
 strange scenery, that one cannot realize that in its climb 
 it carries the iron rails still two thousand feet farther 
 aloft. For years we have read of the Rockies, and is 
 this possible ? Do you mean that here, with this ex 
 panse of level prairie before us, we are up among the 
 clouds, so to speak, far up on the very backbone of the 
 continent, and that is why, instead of towering thou 
 sands of feet aloft in air, the great peaks Long's and 
 Halm's and Pike's seem so near us to the south'ard 
 and no higher at all? Aye, call it prairie level if 
 you will, for straight to the east it looks as flat as Illi 
 nois, but we are standing six thousand feet higher in air 
 than the highest steeple in Chicago, and our prairie flat 
 is but the long, long slope of mountain-side that begins 
 in the Black Hills of Wyoming back at Cheyenne 
 Pass and ends at the forks of the Platte down near 
 Julesburg. 
 
 You say it must be up-hill to that ridge that meets 
 the horizon at the east. -Is it ? Look.over here to our 
 left front, a little to the northeast. See that tiny lake 
 surrounded by low, wooden buildings, and approached
 
 AT THE FRONT. 87 
 
 by the hard, beaten road from the distant town. A 
 pleasure resort of some kind, judging from the 
 streamers and bright flags about the place. It stands 
 Dn a hill, does it not ? and the hill has risen gradually 
 from the west, but slopes abruptly again to the east and 
 south to the general level. Did you ever see a lake on 
 a hill before ? How does the water get there ? Springs ? 
 No. Mark that slender rivulet that runs from far up 
 the ravine at the southwest ; it crosses the prairie in the 
 Dear distance, and then goes twisting and turning up 
 that apparent slope until it reaches the little lake on the 
 bill. The outlet, you say ? Yes. From here it cer 
 tainly looks so, but step forward a few hundred feet 
 and look at the rivulet, and by all that's marvellous ! 
 the water is running up-hill. 
 
 So it certainly seems, but the explanation is simple. 
 The prairie is not horizontal by any means. It is a 
 gradual but decided slope to the east, and the top of the 
 little hill two miles away is forty feet lower than the 
 point on which you stand. 
 
 Then how deceptive is the distance ! Across the 
 level to the southeast lies the bustling frontier city. 
 You wonder to see glistening dome and spire far out 
 there under the very shadow of the Rockies. At least 
 you would have wondered a decade ago in the Centen 
 nial year. You note the transparency of the atmos 
 phere. Science has told you that at such an altitude the 
 air is rarefied. There is no light haze to soften outlines 
 and to lend enchantment to a distant view. Eoof, spire, 
 chimney, all stand out clear and hard, and the coal- 
 smoke from the railway blots the landscape where it 
 rises, yet is quickly scattered by the mountain breeze.
 
 88 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Between you and the little town lies the prairie over 
 which the stage road runs straight and hard as a pike 
 until, nearing us, it begins to twist and turn among the 
 foot-hills for a climb across the ridge into the valley of 
 Lodge Pole Creek beyond. Lodge Pole indeed ! The 
 creek valley has not a stick of timber far as one can 
 see it. Follow it to its source, two days' trot or tramp 
 up towards Cheyenne Pass, and there you find them, 
 as the Sioux did twenty years ago, before we bade them 
 seek their lodge-poles farther north. How far is it to 
 the prairie metropolis, a mile and a half, you venture? 
 My friend, were you an artillerist, and were you to 
 sight a two-hundred-pounder to throw a shell into 
 Cheyenne from where we stand, "setting your sights 
 for three thousand yards," more than your mile and a 
 half, the shell would rip up the prairie turf somewhere 
 down there where you see the road crossing that acequia. 
 Cheyenne lies a good four miles away, and is a good 
 deal bigger than you take it to be. But here to the 
 south lies a strange diamond-shaped enclosure, a 
 queer arrangement of ugly brown wooden barns and 
 sheds far out all by itself on the bare bosom of the 
 prairie. That is called a frontier fort. It is not a fort. 
 It never has been. Even tradition cannot be summoned 
 to warrant the name. It was built after our great civil 
 war, and named for one of the gallant generals who fell 
 fighting in the Shenandoah Valley. It has neither 
 stockade nor simplest defensive work. It is all it can 
 do to stand up against a " Cheyenne zephyr," and a shot 
 fired at one end of it would go clean through to the 
 other without meeting anything sufficiently solid to de 
 flect it from its course. It is a fort by courtesy, as some
 
 AT THE FRONT. 39 
 
 of our non-conbatants are generals by brevet, and would 
 be as valuable in time of defensive need. All around 
 it, east, west, and north, sweeps the level prairie. South 
 of its unenclosed limits there flows a rapid-running 
 stream, down in whose barren valley are placed the 
 long unsightly wooden stables, the big square corrals 
 for quartermaster's stock, the huge stacks of hay and 
 straw, and vast piles of cord-wood. Farther east along 
 this tortuous stream, and on its left bank, too, midway 
 between fort and city, is another big brown enclosure, 
 in which are dozens of sheds and storehouses. It is a 
 great supply depot for quartermaster's stores and ord 
 nance, and over it, as over the fort, flutters the little 
 patch of color which stamps the property as Uncle 
 Sam's. For reasons that can soon be explained only 
 small-sized flags are ever hoisted near Cheyenne. By 
 noon of three hundred days a year, straight from the 
 wild pass to the west, there comes sweeping down a gale 
 that would snap the stoutest flag-staff into flinders, and 
 that whips even a storm-flag threadbare in a few brief 
 weeks. 
 
 But it is a rare June morning now, too early for the 
 "zephyr," and nature beams and sparkles even over 
 such bare landscape. The air is crisp, cool, invigor 
 ating. Far out on the slopes and side hills great herds 
 of horses and mules are grazing, guarded by vigilant 
 troopers, some alert in saddle, others prone upon the 
 turf. Out along the road from town comes a train of 
 white-covered wagons slowly crawling northward, with 
 stores and supplies for the army up in the Indian coun 
 try, and down here to our right front, covering the flat 
 between fort and depot, blocked out in regular rows and 
 
 8*
 
 90 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 groups, dotting the plain with gleaming canvas, is the 
 camp of the th regiment of cavalry. For the first time 
 since the war of the rebellion two-thirds of its entire 
 strength is massed under command of its senior officer. 
 Morning mounted drill is just over, and the two bat 
 talions, having unsaddled and turned the horses out to 
 graze, are now busily occupied about the camp. The 
 soft notes of the trumpet sounding " Officer's Call" has 
 drawn to the colonel's tent a knot of tanned and athletic 
 men in rough field uniform and bristling beards. Those 
 who best know the th will be quicker to recognize 
 old friends in this guise than when in the glitter of 
 parade uniform or the accurate and irreproachable even 
 ing dress of civilization. There is not a man in the 
 group who is not quite at his ease in ball-room attire ; 
 most of them have held acquaintance time and again 
 with the white tie and stiff " choker" of convention 
 ality, but the average gallant of metropolitan circles 
 would turn up his supercilious nostrils at the bare sug 
 gestion were he to see them now. The th is in its 
 element, however, for the order has come, and with the 
 coming dawn it will be on the march for the Black 
 Hills of Dakota, and the colonel has summoned the 
 officers to his tent for some final instructions. It must 
 be conceded that they look like business in their dark- 
 blue flannel shirts, their " reinforced" riding-breeches, 
 the substantial boots, and the field blouses and broad- 
 brimmed campaign hats that Arizona suns and storms 
 have long since robbed of gloss or freshness. The faces 
 are strong and virile in almost every case. It is ten 
 days since the razor has profaned a single chin, and very 
 stubbly and ugly do they look, but long experience has
 
 AT THE FRONT. 9} 
 
 Laught them that the sooner the beard is allowed to 
 sprout when actual campaigning is to be done the greater 
 :he eventual comfort. Occasionally some fellow draws 
 )ff the rough leather gauntlet, and then the contrast 
 oetween his blistered, wind-and-sun tanned face and the 
 white hand is startling. Every man is girt with belt 
 }f stout make, and wears his revolver and hunting- 
 knife, the sabre is discarded by tacit consent, its last 
 ippearance for many a long month. Some of the num 
 ber, indeed, have taken the order to prepare for cam 
 paign work as a permit to doff the uniform entirely. 
 Gruff old Stannard hates the blouse on general princi 
 ples, and looks solid and " stocky" in his flannel shirt ; 
 not a vestige of " rank" can be found about him. Tur 
 ner and old Wilkins, Crane and Hunter, are of his way 
 of thinking, but others who preserve the military propri 
 eties to the last are still garbed in the undress uniform 
 coat. Perhaps they are thinking of the good-byes to 
 be said in the garrison to-night. Less than twenty 
 officers are there who report in answer to the signal, 
 and, having saluted the colonel, dispose themselves on 
 the few camp-stools or on the grass and wait for his 
 remarks. 
 
 Some are old friends, and some old friends are absent. 
 It is odd to think of the th being here in force with 
 out Truscott, or Ray, or old Bucketts, the men we 
 knew so well in Arizona. Colonel Pelham is, of 
 course, not looked for : he is far too old to be in saddle 
 on so hard a campaign as this promises to be. Trus- 
 cott's troop is not yet here, but is under orders to re 
 main in Kansas for the present, and he, we know, is 
 far away at the Point. Ray, with one of the captains.
 
 92 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 whom we have yet to meet, and with Mr. Gleason, is 
 still detained on that horse board, very reluctantly, too, 
 fretting himself into a fever over it say some accounts, 
 and other accounts say worse. Bucketts, as quarter 
 master, is behind at Hays gathering up the fragments 
 that remain and shipping property to the new station. 
 Captain Canker is here : he was East with his wife and 
 little ones, vastly enjoying the surf at Cape May, when 
 the telegram reached him saying that the th were off 
 for the wars again, and within twelve hours he was in 
 pursuit. Four of the group now waiting around the 
 colonel's tent came in just that way. 
 
 " Gentlemen," says the colonel, stepping quickly from 
 the tent, " I called you here for a word or two. First, 
 there will be forty new horses here at three this after 
 noon. They will be distributed according to color 
 among the eight companies, five to each. See to it that 
 they are shod first thing. There will be twenty in the 
 next lot ; they are to be left here for Webb and Trus- 
 cott. Overhaul your ammunition and equipments at 
 once, and if anything is lacking, you can draw from 
 Cheyenne depot this afternoon. I presume those of 
 you who are to take station at Russell will want to go 
 over to see about your quarters, but my advice is that 
 only those who have families make any selection : there 
 will be some changes by the time we get back. We 
 march at six in the morning, so have everything cleared 
 up to-day. There will be no further drill. Those who 
 have business to attend to in town or at the fort can 
 leave camp without further permission. I shall remain 
 here until we start, and one officer from each troop 
 must be in camp, at stables, and during night. That's
 
 AT THE FRONT. 93 
 
 all, unless somebody has questions to ask." And the 
 colonel looks inquiringly around. 
 
 Apparently nobody has, and the group breaks up. 
 Some few of the older officers remained to talk over 
 the prospects at the colonel's tent. Others went to the 
 garrison to rejoin anxious wives and children, and to 
 spend the last day with them in helping get things set 
 tled in the new army homes to which they had been so 
 suddenly moved. A third party, " the youngsters," or 
 junior officers, sauntered across the intervening stretch 
 of prairie towards the low wooden building standing 
 just north of the entrance-gate of the fort. In old 
 army days 'twas known as " the sutler's." In modern 
 parlance it is simply called " the store." The middle 
 room of which, fitted up with a couple of old-fashioned 
 billiard-tables, a huge coal stove, some rough benches, 
 chairs, two or three round tables, and the inevitable bar 
 and cigar-stand, bore on the portals the legend "offi 
 cers'," as distinguished from the general "club-room" 
 beyond. 
 
 Seated around the room in various attitudes of ennui 
 and dejection were three or four infantry officers sta 
 tioned at the post, while at one of the tables a trio of 
 young lieutenants were killing time after morning drill 
 in the fascination of "limited draw." Target practice, 
 as now conducted, was then unknown, or there would 
 have been no time to kill. The announcement lan 
 guidly conveyed from the occupant of the window-seat, 
 " A squad of the th coming," produced neither sen 
 sation nor visible effect. 
 
 A minute more, however, and the door burst open, 
 and in they came, half a dozen glowing, breezy, vigor-
 
 94 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ous young cavalrymen, ruddy with health, elastic with 
 open-air life and exercise, brimful of good spirits and 
 cordiality, and headed by the declamatory Blake, who 
 made a bee-line for the bar, shouting, 
 
 } " ' An if a man did need a poison now, 
 
 Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' 
 
 His name's Muldoon, and he's a fluid man. Step out, 
 Muldoon. What'll ye have, fellers?" he asked, with 
 the sudden transition from the sublime to the ridiculous, 
 which was one of Blake's delights. " Name your re 
 spective pizens, gentlemen. Come, join us, ye gallants 
 of mud-crushers. What, ho ! Poker ?" and with one 
 stride he was at the table and peering over the hands : 
 " No use, Sammy, 
 
 ' Two queens with but a single ace, 
 Two sharps that beat as one.' 
 
 That's no hand to tackle a one-card draw with. Never 
 you mind whether he's bluffing or not. There ain't 
 enough in that pot to warrant the expense of testing 
 the question. Take another deal. What did you say, 
 Muldoon ? Whiskey ? No ! Throw whiskey to the 
 dogs ; I'll none of it. Give me foaming lager. That's 
 right, my doughboy ancient. Didn't I tell you to take 
 another hand ? What says the inimitable Pope ? 
 
 1 Pair tresses man's imperial race ensnare, 
 And Sammy scoops us with a single pair.' " 
 
 " Good heavens ! Blake. Give us a rest ! Here,
 
 AT THE FRONT. 95 
 
 swallow your beer, or take something to choke you," 
 laughed the victim at the table, while a chorus of 
 groans saluted Blake's unconscionable parodies. " If 
 you were to be here a week longer I vow I'd go mad. 
 The best news I've heard in a year is that you're 
 ordered to march in the morning. What quarters did 
 you choose?" 
 
 " What difference does it make to you, Eags ?" put 
 in Mr. Dana. "You fellows will have the post to 
 yourselves all summer, anyhow. We shan't get out 
 so much as a chair until we come back from the 
 campaign." 
 
 "Well, the married officers have chosen theirs, 
 you know. Stannard's traps are all moved into No. 
 11, and they are pretty nearly settled already, the 
 carpets were all down yesterday. So they were at 
 Turner's. Mrs. Whaling has been helping them un 
 pack for the last three days, and telling everybody what 
 they had and didn't have. I tell you what, fellows, 
 we're going to have no end of a good time here this 
 summer with your band and all the ladies while you're 
 roughing it out on the Big Horn. Whaling says he'll 
 bet a hat none of you get back before Thanksgiving." 
 
 " Is it so that Truscott comes here with his troop ?" 
 asked one of the captains of Lieutenant Crane. 
 
 "Well, the troop comes, but as to Truscott, that's 
 another matter." 
 
 " I don't understand you, Crane," said Mr. Blake, 
 with sudden change from his roystering manner. " I 
 thought you heard Ray say that he knew Truscott 
 would be after us as soon as it was settled that we 
 would take the field."
 
 96 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Ray knew no more about it than you do, Blake," 
 was the impatient reply. " Ray has a fashion of being 
 oracular where Truscott is concerned as though he were 
 on intimate and confidential terms with him. Now I, 
 for one, don't believe he had any authority whatever 
 for saying what he did." 
 
 "Well, hold on here," said Blake, deliberately. 
 " My recollection is that Ray only spoke of it as his 
 conviction, not that Truscott had told him anything ; 
 still, he was certain that Truscott would come, and that 
 he would lose no time in getting relieved either. You 
 know he is at the Point," he said, in explanation, to the 
 silent infantryman. 
 
 " Well, I'm d d if I can understand it in him," 
 muttered Wilkins, as he buried his broad face in a 
 beer-mug. 
 
 " No, Wilkins, I dare say you can't," was the drawl 
 ing reply, and the sarcasm was not lost among the 
 listeners, though it missed its effect on the stolid object. 
 " Truscott, Ray, Heath, and Wayne, and Canker, are 
 not the style of men to spend this summer, of all others, 
 away from the regiment." 
 
 "Well, here we are, marching to-morrow, and 
 where are your Ray and Truscott?" asked Wilkins, 
 with as near an approach to a sneer as he dare venture. 
 
 Blake rose quickly from his chair, near where the 
 trio still continued their game, though by this time far 
 more interested in the tone of the talk than in " ten- 
 cent ante." Dana and Hunter, too, were flushing and 
 looking ill at ease. 
 
 " This is no time or place to be discussing regimental 
 matters," said he ; " but since the matter has come to it,
 
 AT THE FRONT. 97 
 
 I mean to give what I believe to be the general opinion 
 as opposed to that of a limited few. Crane, Wilkins, 
 you are the only men I have heard express any doubts 
 as to Truscott's coming, or Ray's, for that matter. I've 
 got just fifty dollars here to bet against your ten that 
 if this regiment has any fighting to do this summer 
 they'll both be in it." 
 
 " I'm not making bets on any such event, Blake, 
 and I did not mean to intimate that they were not apt 
 to come," said Crane, conscious that he had been incau 
 tious. 
 
 "Well, you then, "VVilkius," said Blake, impul 
 sively. " I want this thing clinched. It is the third 
 or fourth time I've heard you half sneering about these 
 two men. It's bad enough in the regiment, but you are 
 talking now in a bar-room and among outsiders. By 
 Jove ! if there's no other way, I say stop it." 
 
 There was an embarrassed silence. This was a new 
 trait in Blake, one of the most jovial, whole-souled, 
 rattle-brained fellows imaginable ordinarily, but now 
 he seemed transformed. For years the regiment had 
 been serving by itself. Now for the first time it was 
 thrown into contact with the comparative strangers of 
 the infantry. These gentlemen, too, were ill at ease at 
 the suppressed feeling in the conversation, but Wilkins 
 was " mulish" at times, and he had a reserve. 
 
 " If you know Truscott's coming it ain't fair to bet," 
 he muttered, sulkily ; " but you'd better go slow on 
 backing Ray ; that's my advice, Blake, unless you've 
 more money than you know what to do with." 
 
 " All the same, I stand by my bet. Do you take it ?" 
 
 " Oh, dash your bet ! Blake, I'm no betting man ; 
 K 9 9
 
 98 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 but you'd better be certain what Ray's doing before 
 you champion him so glibly. Perhaps I know more 
 than you think." 
 
 Blake's face clouded a little. 
 
 " I don't like your hints, Wilkins. We all know, 
 of course, that Ray has been wild and reckless many a 
 time, but he is disbursing officer of that horse board ; 
 he is the man of all others on it to decide what they'll 
 take and what they won't take. Buxton knows mighty 
 little about horses and will vote as Ray does, so that 
 leaves the responsibility with him. He never failed 
 us yet, and, by gad ! I don't believe he will now." 
 
 " All right ! Blake, just you wait. All I've got to 
 say is thait if Ray wants to keep his skirts out of the 
 mud he'd better quit the company of that fellow 
 Rallston, and I hear he's with him day and night, and 
 has done no little drinking and card-playing with him 
 already. I don't say gambling, but there's those that 
 do," continued Wilkins, hotly. 
 
 " More than that," he went on, after a pause. " When 
 Wayne came through Kansas City, Gleason and Buxton 
 were at the tram to meet him, but they didn't know, 
 they said, where Ray was. I heard he was at the 
 hotel sick ; been on a tear, I suppose." 
 
 " See here, Wilkins, unless you can prove it let up 
 on this sort of talk. Ray told Stannard when he went 
 on this detail that he would touch no card so long as 
 he was disbursing officer, and that he'd let John Bar 
 leycorn alone. Now, do you know he has been on any 
 spree ?" 
 
 " No, I don't know it, Blake, and yet I'm. certain 
 of it just from past experience with him."
 
 AT THE FRONT. 99 
 
 " By gad ! you're as bad as old Backbite himself. 
 Do you remember that time Chip of the artillery was 
 walking down Nassau Street, and a steam-boiler or 
 something burst under the sidewalk and broke his leg? 
 The first thing old Backbite said when he heard of it 
 was, ' H'm ! been drinking, I suppose.' Now here's 
 Billings with a despatch. What is it, bully rook?" he 
 hailed, as the adjutant came bounding in. 
 
 " Truscott starts to-night, and the horse board will 
 break up next week, so we'll have Jack and Ray with 
 us inside of ten days." 
 
 " Precisely. Now, Wilkins, if you want a nice mud- 
 bath for your head, there's an elegant spot back of the 
 stables. Come on, Billings, I'm going to camp." 
 
 And with that he left, followed by all the cavalry 
 men but Wilkins and his associate Crane. The latter 
 held the ground, and, as they were plainly the defeated 
 parties in the argument so far, human nature demanded 
 that Mr. Wilkins should set himself right in the eyes 
 of the reluctant auditors, and so it happened that 
 among the officers composing what might be termed 
 the permanent garrison of the post the first impres 
 sions received of Mr. Ray were conveyed by a tongue 
 as ill regulated as other people's children.
 
 100 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 WAR RUMORS. 
 
 THE announcement that Captain Truscott had gone 
 to Washington was received at the officers' mess with 
 no little excitement. Questioned as to the meaning of 
 it, the commandant of cadets unreservedly replied that 
 Truscott would not risk failure, but, with the full per 
 mission of the superintendent, had gone to see the Sec 
 retary of War and get immediate orders to join his 
 regiment. The th was to take the field at once, said 
 the colonel, and Truscott felt that it was his duty to go. 
 Things looked very much as though there would be a 
 stubborn and protracted Indian war, and undoubtedly 
 the captain was right in his view of the matter. In this 
 opinion there was general acquiescence among the staff 
 and artillery officers present, it is always safe to adhere 
 to general principles which are not apt to be personal 
 in their application, and the staff and artillery rarely 
 were called upon to take part in such hostilities, and 
 Mr. Ferris being a cavalryman of spirit was quite dis 
 posed to think it the proper thing for him, too, to ask 
 for orders, although the possibility of his regiment's 
 being involved was indeed remote. One or two officers, 
 however, maintained that the principle was bad as a 
 precedent ; that hereafter officers might feel it a reflec 
 tion upon them if they did not immediately ask to be 
 sent to their commands on the first rumor of hostilities, 
 no matter how important might be the duties upon
 
 WAR RUMORS. 101 
 
 which they were detached. On this view of the case 
 very little was said, but one or two gentlemen whose 
 regiments were known to be marching on the Yellow 
 stone country looked gratefully at the originator and 
 nodded their heads appreciatively. It was mid June 
 now, and except the fight with Crazy Horse's band on 
 Patrick's Day and an unimportant brush with the Sioux 
 on the head-waters of the Tongue River, nothing that 
 could be called "hostilities" had really taken place. 
 " The Indians will be surrounded and will surrender 
 without a blow," said those who sought for reason to 
 evade going ; but no man who knew anything of Indian 
 character or Indian methods believed that for an instant. 
 Every experienced officer knew, and knew well, that a 
 mortal struggle must come and come soon, and come 
 it did. 
 
 But Jack Truscott needed no such spur to urge him 
 on the path of duty. What it cost to cut loose from 
 all that was so beautiful to him in his happy home no 
 one ever knew. What it cost his brave young wife to 
 let him go was never told. Barely half a year had they 
 rejoiced together in their love-lit surroundings, the most 
 envied couple at the Point, and there is vast comfort 
 in being envied, and Grace Truscott had never for an 
 instant dreamed that so rude an interruption could come ; 
 but come it had, with blinding, sudden force, that for 
 a time stunned and well nigh crushed her. Jack had 
 lifted her in his strong arms and almost carried her 
 to their room the night when he had to tell her of his 
 determination, but, once satisfied that his duty was 
 plain, she rallied, like the soldier's daughter she was, 
 and spoke no word of repining. She looked up in his 
 
 9*
 
 102 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 eyes and bade him go. True, she cherished faint hope 
 that in Washington there would be attempt to dissuade 
 him, for she had good reason to know that in the days 
 whereof we write there were officials of the War De 
 partment who regarded Indian warfare on the frontier 
 as a matter quite beneath their notice, one which might 
 of course concern the officers and men actually engaged, 
 but that could be of small moment to the Army, that 
 is, the Army as known to society, as known to the press, 
 and, 'tis to be feared, as understood by Congress, the 
 Army in its exclusive and somewhat supercilious exist 
 ence at the National Capital. Colonel and Mrs. Pel- 
 ham were there, and Jack would of course see them ; 
 and was it not possible that there would be officials of 
 the highest authority who could convince him that his 
 services were not needed at the front, but could not be 
 dispensed with at the Point ? Poor Grace ! She little 
 dreamed that for such a place as her husband held there 
 were dozens of applicants, and that senators and repre 
 sentatives by the score had favorites and friends whom 
 they were eager to urge for every Eastern detail ; and 
 then, even now sjie did not entirely know her Jack : so 
 gentle, loving, caressing, as he was with her, she could 
 hardly realize the inflexibility of his purpose. The 
 interview with the Secretary of War was over in five 
 minutes, and never had that functionary experienced 
 such a surprise. He had received Captain Truscott's 
 card and directed that he be admitted, vaguely remem 
 bering him as the tall cavalry officer whom he had seen 
 at the Point on the first of the month, and whom, after 
 the manner of his kind, he had begged " to let him 
 know if there should ever be anything he could do for
 
 WAR HUMORS. 103 
 
 him in Washington/' and now here he was, and had a 
 favor to ask. The Secretary sighed and looked up 
 drearily from his papers, but rose and shook hands with 
 the young officer who entered, and blandly asked him 
 to be seated. Captain Truscott, however, bowed his 
 thanks, said that he had just left the adjutant-general, 
 and had his full permission to present in person this 
 note from the superintendent of the Academy, and his, 
 the captain's, request to be immediately relieved from 
 duty at West Point with orders to join his regiment, 
 then en route to reinforce General Crook. 
 
 The Secretary mechanically took the note between 
 his nerveless fingers, and simply stared at his visitor. 
 At last he broke forth, 
 
 " By the Eternal !" (and the administration was not 
 Jacksonian either) " Captain Truscott. This beats any 
 thing in my experience. Since I've been in office every 
 man who has called upon me has wanted orders for 
 himself or somebody else to come East. Do you mean 
 you want to go West and rejoin your regiment to do 
 more of this Indian fighting ?" 
 
 "Certainly, Mr. Secretary," was Truscott's half- 
 amused reply. 
 
 " It shall be as you wish, of course," said the cabinet 
 officer ; " but I've no words to say how I appreciate it. 
 You seem to be of a different kind of timber from 
 those fellows who are always hanging around Wash 
 ington, not but what they are all very necessary, 
 and that sort of thing," put in the Secretary, diplo 
 matically ; " but we have no end of men who want to 
 come to Washington. You're the first man I've heard 
 of who wanted to go. By Jove ! Captain Truscott. Is
 
 104 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 there anything else you want ? Is there anything I can 
 do that will convey to you my appreciation of your 
 course ?" 
 
 " Well, sir, I have spoken to the adjutant-general 
 about some six men of the cavalry detachment at the 
 Point who are eager to go to the frontier for active 
 service. If they could be transferred, sent out with 
 recruits ; we are short-handed in the th, and my own 
 troop needs non-commissioned officers." 
 
 " Certainly it can be done. We'll see General T 
 
 about it at once." 
 
 That night Grace's last hope was broken by the tele 
 gram from Washington, which told her that Jack would 
 be home next day and that the orders were issued. 
 
 Mrs. Pelham had stormed, of course, that is to her 
 husband. She stood in awe of Jack, and had counted 
 on spending much of the summer at the Point. Living 
 as they were at a Washington hotel, expenses were very 
 heavy, and madame had planned to recuperate her ex 
 hausted frame and fortune in a long visit to dear Grace, 
 who really ought to have a mother's " well, at least, 
 if the captain is to be away so much of the time, she 
 will surely be lonely," madame had argued. It was 
 really quite fortunate that he had to go to Kentucky to 
 buy horses. In his absence she might recover much of 
 the ground she felt she had lost in the last year. The 
 plan was fairly developed in her strategical mind, when 
 who should appear but the captain himself, and with 
 the brief announcement that they would start for Wy 
 oming in a week. 
 
 Madame could not believe her senses; but either 
 from shock or unusually profound discretion, she re-
 
 WAR RUMORS. 105 
 
 Trained from an expression of her sentiments, and 
 Truscott continued his calm explanation. Grace had 
 borne up bravely at the idea of his throwing away the 
 detail at the Point, but had made one stipulation. She 
 should go with him to the frontier, rebuild their nest 
 at the new station of his troop, and be near him as 
 woman could be during the summer's campaign, and 
 all ready to welcome him home at its close. He could 
 not say her nay. Old Pelham's eyes brimmed with 
 tears, but when he spoke it was only to repress the im 
 petuous outbreak of his wife. 
 
 "Now, Dolly, no words. Truscott's right, so is 
 Grace. It's bound to be a sharp ^campaign no matter 
 what your society friends say. By gad ! I'd I'd 
 give anything to go, but I'm top old, Jack ; I'd only 
 be in the way. You're right, my boy. You're right ; 
 you always are. Your place is with the regiment 
 when there's work to be done, and Grace is a soldier's 
 wife. She's right, too. Her place is near him." 
 
 In vain Mrs. Pelham argued that Grace could better 
 remain East. Jack knew his wife's mind. She would 
 be just as comfortable ; she would be far happier in 
 the cosey quarters of the big garrison at Eussell. She 
 would have Mrs. Stannard, whom they all loved, for 
 friend and companion, and there were a dozen pleasant 
 acquaintances among the ladies there to be quartered. 
 It was simply useless for madame to interpose. Every 
 thing had been settled beforehand and without reference 
 to her. The best they could do was to accept Jack's 
 invitation to come to the Point, be his guests at the 
 hotel, and see them off. He would dismantle his 
 quarters forthwith.
 
 106 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 And when he returned to Grace next day she was 
 brave, smiling, really happy. She gloried in the idea 
 of going with her soldier husband back to the dear old 
 th, and she had another plan, a surprise. She and 
 Marion had had a long talk, and as a result Marion 
 wanted to go too. It was novel. It was almost start 
 ling, yet why not ? Several young ladies were already 
 visiting at Hays, two of them were going, had gone 
 to Russell with relatives who were married in the th. 
 Miss Sanford was to have spent the summer with them 
 at the Point. Why should she not accompany Grace 
 to Wyoming and see something of that odd army life 
 of w r hich she had hoard so much. If Captain Truscott 
 would have her she knew no reason to prevent. And 
 they all knew that in the captain's enforced absence on 
 the campaign no one could be so great a comfort, so 
 dear a companion to Grace, as her schoolmate Marion. 
 There was only one question, said Truscott, "Will 
 Mr. Sanford consent?" 
 
 " I will write to-night," said the young lady, in reply, 
 " and I feel confident of his answer." 
 
 Within a week, as we know, the telegram had reached 
 the th announcing Truscott's move, and that very 
 afternoon Mrs. Stannard, seated on the piazza of her 
 new quarters and gazing southward across the bare 
 parade to the dun-colored barracks on the other side 
 and the snow-capped peaks of Colorado seemingly just 
 beyond, was startled by a sudden sensation in the 
 group of officers in front of Colonel Whaling's. An 
 other telegram. Presently her husband left the group 
 and came quickly to her, hands in his pockets as usual, 
 and with his customary expression of unastonishable
 
 WAR RUMORS. 107 
 
 nonclialance. Still, she saw he had disturbing news, and 
 she rose anxiously to^meet him, her sweet blue eyes 
 clouded with the dread she strove to repress. 
 
 " What is it, Luce?" she asked. 
 
 The major unpursed his lips and abandoned the 
 attempted whistle. 
 
 " Been a fight way up on the Rosebud," he briefly 
 said, as he dropped into a chair, still maintaining his 
 apparent indifference of manner. 
 
 " Yes ; but what was it ? Who is hurt this time ?" 
 
 " H , of the Third ; shot through the face ; can't 
 live, they say. Reckon that isn't the worst of it, either. 
 Crook found the Indians far too many for him and he 
 had to fall back to his camps." 
 
 " Oh, Luce ! Then it will be a hard campaign. 
 What news for the th ?" 
 
 " Nothing as yet. We march, of course, at daybreak, 
 and I suppose the rest of the regiment will be hurried 
 up from Kansas. What must be looked after at once 
 is the great mass of Indians at the Red Cloud and 
 Spotted Tail reservations on White River. They will 
 get this news within the next twenty-four hours, and it 
 will so embolden them that the entire gang will probably 
 take the war-path. There is where we will be sent, I 
 fancy. Orders will reach us at Laramie. They say 
 Sheridan himself is on his way to the reservations to 
 look into matters. Mrs. Turner been here ?" he sud 
 denly asked, with a quick glance from under his shaggy 
 eyebrows. 
 
 " Mrs. Turner ? Not since morning. Why ?" 
 
 " There was a sort of snarl down at the store this 
 morning, Some mention of it was made while we were
 
 108 MARIO WS FAITH. 
 
 talking there at Whaling's, and I was anxious to get the 
 particulars. "Wilkins was saying sometliing about Ray 
 that worries me. Have you heard nothing ?" 
 
 " Not a thing, Luce. Did you suppose Mrs. Turner 
 was possessed of all the information and would come 
 to me with it?" 
 
 The major looked uncomfortable. " She would be 
 apt to go to somebody, and you were the nearest. Both 
 those youngsters, Dana and Hunter, were present, and 
 they are leaky vessels, I'm told. Turner never tells 
 her anything, but the boys do." 
 
 " What a thing to say, Luce !" 
 
 " Can't help it," growled the major, thrusting out his 
 spurred boot-heels towards the railing and tilting back 
 in his chair. "You never heard, I suppose, that be 
 tween her and Mrs. Raymond and Mrs. Wilkins there 
 was a regular intelligence bureau at Sandy two years 
 ago. So you heard nothing about this affair ?" 
 
 " Not a word ; and it occurs to me, Major Stannard, 
 that you look vastly as though you wish Mrs. Turner 
 had come with the details. That's just the way with 
 you men. You rail at our sex for gossiping, and 
 growl when we can't or won't tell you anything. Luce ! 
 Luce ! How consistent !" And in her enjoyment of her 
 burly lord's discomfiture, Mrs. Stannard forgot for the 
 moment her many anxieties and laughed blithely. 
 
 The major had too much to worry him, however, 
 and this was so evident to his devoted wife that her 
 laugh was brief, it was never loud or strident, and 
 she moved her chair nearer to his own. 
 
 " Is Mr. Ray in any trouble ?" she asked, with gen 
 uine concern.
 
 WAR RUMORS. 109 
 
 " I don't know. Of the officers present at the con 
 versation in the store this morning all I have since 
 seen were infantrymen, whom I couldn't ask. "Wayne 
 and Merrill heard something of it and came to me at 
 once because of their regard for Ray, but Blake has 
 gone to town. He is the man who snubbed Crane and 
 Wilkins. It seems -Wilkins claims to have a letter 
 from somebody that man Gleason probably to the 
 effect that Ray has been on a perpetual tear with the 
 very man of all others I dreaded his meeting. You 
 remember that contractor, Rallston." 
 
 " Mr. Ray's brother-in-law ?" 
 
 " Yes ; worse luck ! I knew the fellow by reputa 
 tion before we went to Arizona. He's a scoundrel, and 
 a very polished one, too. Ray is smart enough ordi 
 narily, but if Rallston has been trying to sell him 
 horses there will be trouble sooner or later. I'm more 
 worried about that than over the campaign news. Sorry 
 
 about H , of course, though I'd never met him : 
 
 They say he is a capital officer ; but I can't start to 
 morrow and have this thing haunting me all the way 
 up to Laramie. I'll go down to camp and hunt up 
 Wilkins, and ask him flat-footed for his whole story ; 
 then there will be time to write to Ray, or telegraph if 
 need be." 
 
 That was a dreary night at Russell. All the after 
 noon the telegraph instrument at headquarters was 
 clicking away with details of the brief and sudden fight 
 upon the Rosebud, and the officers read in silence the 
 description of the hordes upon hordes of savages that 
 swooped down upon Crook's little column, and whirled 
 his allied Absarakas and Shoshones off the wooded 
 
 10
 
 MARIOJSTS FAITH. 
 
 bluffs. " They must have been reinforced from every 
 reservation between the Missouri and the mountains," 
 was the comment, for the whole country swarmed with 
 them. Scout after scout had been sent out to strive to 
 push through to the Yellowstone and communicate with 
 General Terry's forces, known to be concentrated at the 
 mouth of the Tongue. Some had come back, chased 
 in to the very guard by yelling " hostiles." Several had 
 failed to return at all, but significant fact none had 
 succeeded in getting through. The last of June would 
 soon be at hand ; the forces that were to co-operate 
 Crook's from the Big Horn foot-hills at the south, 
 Terry's from the banks of the Yellowstone at the 
 north had reached their appointed stations and even 
 gone beyond, but not a vestige of communication could 
 they establish one with the other. Crook, striving to 
 force his way through from his corrals and camps, had 
 been overpowered and thrust back by the concentration 
 upon him of five times his weight in foes. Terry, send 
 ing his cavalry scouting up the Rosebud, found an un 
 impeded passage for miles and miles ; and even as our 
 friends at Russell were reading with gloomy faces the 
 tidings from the front, a little battalion of cavalry, 
 pushing venturously up the wild and picturesque val 
 ley, came suddenly upon a sight that bade their leader 
 pause. 
 
 Up from among the wild rose-bushes along the 
 sparkling stream, and climbing the great " divide" to 
 the west, there ran a broad, new-beaten, dusty trail, 
 pounded by the hoofs of ten thousand ponies, strewn 
 on every side with abandoned lodge-poles, worn-out 
 blankets, or other impedimenta, malodorous, unsightly.
 
 WAR RUMORS. jjj 
 
 " The Indians have crossed to the Little Horn ^ ithin 
 the last three days," said the experienced scouts in the 
 advance. Back went the column down the valley to 
 report the news, and three days afterwards two war- 
 tried regiments of horse were en route. From the 
 south, heading for the Black Hills of Dakota, with 
 orders to find the trail leading from the reservations to 
 the Indian country and put a stop to the forwarding 
 of reinforcements or supplies, rode our old Arizona 
 acquaintances of the th. From the north, pushing 
 up the Rosebud into the very heart of the hostile re 
 gions, with orders to find the lurking-place of the 
 swarming savages and "hold them" from the east, 
 there came a command and a commander famed in song 
 and story. Between them and the Big Horn heights 
 and cations, where lay the comrade force of Crook, 
 there rolled a glorious tract of wooded crest, of sweep 
 ing, upland prairie, of deep and sheltered valley, of 
 plashing stream and foaming torrent, and there in their 
 guarded fastness, exulting in their strength, mad with 
 rejoicing over their easy victory, lighting the valley for 
 miles with their council-fires, rousing the echoes with 
 triumphant shout and speech, thousand upon thousand 
 gathered the Indian foemen, "covering the hills like a 
 red cloud."
 
 112 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AT RUSSELL. 
 
 " WHAT do you think !" exclaimed Mrs. Turner, 
 breathlessly, as she rushed in upon her friend Mrs. 
 Stannard one bright morning a week later, " Mrs. 
 Truscott and Miss Sanford will both be here to-morrow. 
 Mr. Gleason escorts them. Why !" she added, in visi 
 ble disappointment, " you knew all about it all the time. 
 Why didn't you tell me ?" 
 
 " I only knew yesterday, Mrs. Turner," was the 
 smiling reply. " They will stay with me until their 
 quarters are ready. Captain Truscott and Captain 
 Webb will camp here with their troops until further 
 orders, and you knew, of course, that they were on 
 their way. The ladies were to have gone to the hotel 
 in town, but Major Stannard sent word before he left 
 that Mrs. Truscott must come to me, and I have plenty 
 of room for Miss Sanford, too." 
 
 " Won't it be delightful to have them? It will add 
 ever so much to the life of the post," said Mrs. Turner, 
 with visions of hops and parties innumerable flitting 
 through her pretty head. It was a week since the th 
 had broken camp and marched away. Already they 
 were far across the Platte and up out of reach of all 
 telegraphic communication somewhere among the breaks 
 of the South Cheyenne, and right in among the bands 
 now known to be hurrying day and night, northwest-
 
 AT RUSSELL. H3 
 
 ward, to join the hordes of Sitting Bull. Captain 
 Turner had been unusually grave in parting with his 
 wife, but that blissfully constituted matron had shed 
 few tears. She was philosophic and sensible beyond 
 question. What good was there in borrowing trouble ? 
 Didn't the captain have to go time and again just the 
 same way in Arizona, and didn't he always come back 
 safely ? Of course, poor Captain Tanner and Captain 
 Squires, and Mr. Clay and Mr. Walters and others, 
 had been killed, and lots of them were wounded at one 
 time or another ; but heavens ! if one had to go into 
 deep mourning every time a husband had to take the 
 field, there would be no living in the cavalry at all ! 
 Mrs. Turner was unquestionably sensible, and far be it 
 from our intention to upbraid her. Ladies there were 
 in the th who spent several days in prayers and 
 tears after they had seen the last of the guidons as 
 they fluttered away over the " divide" towards Lodge 
 Pole, and with these afflicted ones Mrs. Whaling, the 
 "commanding officer's lady," would fain have lav 
 ished hours of time in sympathizing converse. She 
 loved the melodramatic, and was never so happy, said 
 Blake, as when bathed in tears. Detractors of this es 
 timable woman, indeed, were wont to complain that she 
 was too easily content with these pearly but insufficient 
 aids to lavatory process ; and her propensity for adher 
 ing for weeks at a time to an ancient black silk, which 
 had seen service all over the Western frontier, gave 
 sombre color to the statement. The few ladies of the 
 th who had come to Russell for the summer were 
 hardly settled in their new quarters when the regiment 
 was hurried away, and from one house to another had 
 A 10*
 
 114 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Mrs. Whaling flitted, a substantial and seemingly well- 
 fed matron in appearance, and one whose eccentricities 
 of costume and toilet were attributable, no doubt, to a 
 largeness of nature, which rendered all care for personal 
 appearance subordinate to the claims of afflicted hu 
 manity. All the ladies had gracefully accepted her 
 proffered sympathy, and some had warmly thanked 
 her for the well-meant attentions ; but Mrs. Turner 
 was completely nonplussed by the good lady's offer to 
 come and pray with her, and it must be allowed that 
 Mrs. "Whaling's visit of condolence had been produc 
 tive of far more comfort to Mrs. Turner than was ex 
 pected, and in a far different way ; for that volatile 
 young matron rushed in upon Mrs. Stannard late in 
 the afternoon, choking with laughter, to describe her 
 sensations in striving to be proper and decorous until 
 the venerable black silk had whisked itself off out of 
 hearing. Three days after the th had gone the band 
 arrived from Hays. Mr. Billings had spent two days 
 at the post in seeing his men comfortably established 
 and in turning over property to the infantry officer des 
 ignated to be post adjutant, and then he had taken stage 
 to Laramie and gone in chase. That evening, after the 
 band had played delightfully an hour or two on the 
 parade, the officers suggested an informal dance ; their 
 own ladies went readily, and Mrs. Turner decided to go 
 and see the hop-room, and once there it seemed so poky 
 to come away without a waltz or two. " The floor was 
 lovely, so much better than ours at Hays, and really, 
 several of the garrison officers danced remarkably well." 
 So we infer Mrs. Turner had satisfied herself by per 
 sonal experiment on that score. Very properly, the
 
 AT RUSSELL. U5 
 
 informal hops became regular features of the garrison 
 life, and several ladies of the th, "grass-widowed" 
 for the summer, were speedily induced to join in these 
 modulated gayeties. What with the band, the influx of 
 some half a dozen new ladies, and the constant arrival 
 of officers en route to the front, the garrison not un 
 naturally remarked that Russell was jollier now that 
 the th had gone than it was before. 
 
 And now Mrs. Truscott and the very interesting 
 Miss Sanford were coming. This was indeed news ! 
 They were to take quarters next to the Stanuards, and 
 be Mrs. Stannard's guests until the furniture arrived 
 and all was made ready for them. Truscott's troop, 
 with Webb's, was coming along by rail fast as they 
 could travel in the heavy freight-trains to which they 
 were assigned, and the ladies, Mrs. Webb included, 
 were being escorted on the express direct to Cheyenne 
 by Lieutenant Gleason, who had joined the party as 
 they passed through Kansas City, and who had, doubt 
 less, made himself especially agreeable to the young and 
 lovely Mrs. Truscott, of whom he had heard so much, 
 and to her friend, the heiress from New Jersey. These 
 were details of which Mrs. Turner was in ignorance 
 when she came in to surprise Mrs. Stannard with the 
 news, and, after her first astonishment, Mrs. Turner's 
 sensations were not those of unmixed delight. A whole 
 day, it seemed, had the major's wife been in possession 
 of the tidings and had not imparted them to her. This 
 was indicative of one of two things : either Mrs. Stan 
 nard was so reticent that she did not care to tell any 
 body, or else she had told others and kept it from her, 
 from her who believed that she had made a most favor-
 
 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 able impression on this charming and popular lady of 
 whom all mf n and most women spoke so admiringly. 
 Mrs. Turner's face betrayed her mental perturbation, 
 and Mrs. Stannard was quick to divine the cause. In 
 genuine kindness of heart she came promptly to the 
 relief of her pretty friend. Without being in the least 
 blind to her frivolities, Mrs. Stannard saw much that 
 was attractive and pleasant in Mrs. Turner. She was 
 vastly entertained by her, and enjoyed studying her as 
 she would a graceful statue or a finished picture. Be 
 neath the surface she had no desire to penetrate. Warm 
 friends and loving friends she had in troops, and women 
 of Mrs. Turner's mental calibre were sources of infinite, 
 though quiet, entertainment. She enjoyed their pres 
 ence, was cordial, kindly, even laughingly familiar, yet 
 always guarded. Mrs. Staunard's most pronounced 
 characteristic was consummate discretion. She knew 
 whom to trust, and others might labor in vain to ex 
 tract from her the faintest hint that, repeated carelessly 
 or maliciously, would wound or injure a friend. 
 
 But here was a thing all the world might know. 
 Truscott's telegram had reached her the evening before, 
 saying that the three ladies, escorted by Lieutenant 
 Gleason, would arrive at such a time, and that Mrs. 
 Truscott and Miss Sanford would gladly accept her 
 offer. The average woman could hardly restrain her 
 self from going out and seeking some one to whom to 
 tell the interesting news. Few pleasures in life are 
 keener than the bliss of being able to convey unexpected 
 tidings, when they are welcome, but Mrs. Stannard 
 knew that the ladies of the regiment with whom she 
 felt at all intimate were over at the hop-room. She had
 
 AT RUSSELL. 
 
 all a woman's eagerness to tell the news, but she was 
 loyal to the th, and would not even in so little a thing 
 let others be the bearers. That Mrs. Stannard was a 
 woman capable of deeds of heroism we deduce from 
 the simple fact that she went to bed that night without 
 having breathed the story to a soul. She had a strong 
 impulse to tell her cook and housemaid, old and reli 
 able followers of her fortunes, but she well knew that 
 those amiable domestics would be clattering up and 
 down the back yards all the evening, and the news 
 would surprise nobody when she came to tell it next 
 day. She was too true a woman to want to part with 
 such a pleasure. Then she had ah ! must it be con 
 fessed ? a little mischievous desire of her own to see 
 how Mrs. Turner would take it, for those who knew 
 Mrs. Turner best were given to the belief that she 
 would far rather have the attention of the masculine 
 element of the garrison concentrated upon herself than 
 shared with such undoubted rivals as these would be ; 
 and so, with perfect truth, Mrs. Stannard's reassurance 
 took the form of these words : 
 
 " You see I could not make up my mind to let any 
 one know until I had told you, and I've been ex 
 pecting you all the morning," and Mrs. Turner was 
 charmed. " But," said Mrs. Stannard, " tell me how 
 you heard it. I thought no one knew it but myself." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Gleason telegraphed as a matter of course, 
 to announce that he was escorting these ladies. It was 
 quite a feather in his cap to be able to show the com 
 manding officer here that Captain Truscott intrusts to 
 him the duty of guarding anything so precious. When 
 you get to know Mr. Gleason better you'll appreciate
 
 118 MARION'S FAITH 
 
 that," said Mrs. Turner, with a pout. " Captain Tur 
 ner can't bear him, and dislikes to have me notice him 
 at all ; and what I wonder at is his escorting them. 
 Why is he not with his company ? And where is Mr. 
 Ray? If the board has adjourned, I should suppose 
 that Mr. Gleason would be on duty with his men, he 
 is Truscott's first lieutenant, you know, and that Mr. 
 Ray would be rushing through to catch his company. 
 Why isn't he escorting them I wonder ? Perhaps Cap 
 tain Truscott had reasons of his own for not permitting 
 that, Ray was smitten with her, I don't care what 
 Mrs. Raymond says. Have you heard where Mr. Ray 
 is?" 
 
 " Not a word. I wish I knew," said Mrs. Stannard, 
 wistfully. 
 
 "Have you have you heard anything about his 
 being in any trouble, in anything likely to keep him 
 from going with the regiment ?" asked Mrs. Turner, 
 hesitatingly, yet watching closely Mrs. Stannard's face. 
 
 " Nothing in the least that is anything more than a 
 very improbable story, and one that I have too little 
 faith in to repeat. Tell me what news you have from 
 the captain." And Mrs. Turner knew 'twas useless to 
 ask questions. She hurried through her visit, and 
 tripped eagerly away up the row to carry the news 
 throughout the garrison, meeting Mrs. Whaling com 
 ing down, and the latter had the start. 
 
 And so, before the setting of a second sun, Grace 
 Truscott was once more in garrison, and Miss Sanford, 
 with quietly observant eyes, was forming her first im 
 pressions of army life in the far West, and welcoming 
 with sweet and gracious manner the ladies, who could
 
 AT RUSSELL. H9 
 
 not resist their hospitable impulse to gather on Mrs. 
 Stannard's piazza and greet the new-comers as soon as 
 they had removed the dust and cinders of railway 
 travel, and in the bewildering freshness of their New 
 York costumes reappeared on the parlor floor. 
 
 That evening, of course, they held quite a levee. 
 The band played delightfully upon the parade, welcom 
 ing back to the frontier the colonel's daughter, and 
 wishing, many of them, that old Catnip, too, had come, 
 for he was very thoughtful and kind to his men, and 
 they were realizing that it is no fun to be musicians for 
 somebody else's regiment. Many officers and ladies 
 called, and Mrs. Stannard's pleasant parlor was filled 
 from early until late. One man appeared there before 
 anybody else, accepted an invitation to join them at 
 dinner and stayed until after eleven : this was Mr. 
 Gleason. 
 
 The sunshine of Mrs. Stannard's bonny face was 
 something the th were prone to speak of very often, 
 perhaps too often to suit other ladies, whose visages on 
 the domestic side were not infrequently clouded. Just 
 as it is an unsafe thing to speak in presence of some 
 mothers of the grace or beauty or behavior of other 
 children than their own, so it is simply idiotic to talk 
 of Mrs. So-and-so's sweet manners or sweeter face to 
 Mrs. Vinaigre, who is said, at times, to be snappish. 
 It may be far from your intention to institute compari 
 sons or to refer, by inference, to graces which are 
 lacking in the lady to whom you speak, but there is 
 nothing surer in life than that you get the credit of it 
 in the fullest sense, and that, most unwittingly, you 
 have affronted a woman in a way the meekest Christian
 
 120 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 of her sex will find it hard to forgive ; she will never 
 forget it. Mrs. Stannard's smile was sweetness itself; 
 her eyes smiled quite as much as her mouth, and her 
 very soul seemed to beam through the winsome, win 
 ning beauty of her face. All the young officers looked 
 up to her with something akin to worship ; all the 
 elders spoke of Mrs. Stannard as the perfection of an 
 army wife ; even her closest friends and acquaintances 
 could find no one trait to speak of openly as a fault. 
 The nearest approach to such a thing was Mrs. Tur 
 ner's exasperated and petulant outbreak when her pa 
 tient lord had ventured, in presence of several of her 
 coterie, to speak once too often of that lovely smile. 
 " Merciful powers ! Captain Turner. Any woman 
 with Mrs. Stannard's teeth could afford to smile from 
 morning till night ; but it's all teeth !" But even Mrs. 
 Turner knew better. It was a smile born of genuine 
 goodness, of charity, of loving-kindness, and of a 
 spiritual grace that made Mrs. Stannard marked among 
 her associates. In all the regiment no woman was so 
 looked up to and loved as she. 
 
 Grace Truscott had known her well by reputation, 
 though this was their first meeting. It seemed not a 
 little strange to Miss Sanford that they should be going 
 thus suddenly and unceremoniously to be the guests of 
 a lady whom neither of them had ever seen, but " 'tis the 
 way we have in the Army," was the laughing response 
 when she ventured to speak of it, and any hesitancy or 
 embarrassment she might have felt vanished at the in 
 stant when their hostess appeared on the piazza and 
 both her hands were outstretched in welcome. " Did 
 you ever see a lovelier expression in a woman's face ?"
 
 AT RUSSELL. ]21 
 
 was her first impulsive exclamation when she and 
 Grace were shown to their roonis. Yet, once her guests 
 were up-stairs and out of the way, Mrs. Stannard's 
 brow clouded not a little as she descended to the piazza, 
 where she had left Mr. Gleason superintending the un 
 loading of trunks, boxes, and other baggage, and giving 
 directions about the distribution of this thing or that 
 quite as though " one of the family." She had never 
 liked him ; the major cordially hated him ; she knew 
 that Captain Truscott could not possibly feel any friend 
 ship for such a man, and yet here he was, the escort 
 of Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford on their journey. 
 They were her guests, and therefore she had to be 
 unusually civil to him. One or two officers came up to 
 speak to him as he stood at the little gate, and the post 
 adjutant invited him to send his traps to his quarters, 
 where a room was ready. Gleason looked around at 
 Mrs. Stannard and remarked, " Well, I'm much obliged, 
 but you see I'm rather bound as yet to our ladies," and 
 plainly intimated that he hoped Mrs. Stannard would 
 offer him the spare room on the parlor floor, but Mrs. 
 Stannard did nothing of the kind ; and, not very grace 
 fully, he availed himself of the young infantryman's 
 courtesy. The baggage was all in by this time, and 
 there was no need of his prolonging his stay. Mrs. 
 Stannard, of course, announced that they expected the 
 pleasure of his company at dinner at six, and asked 
 him to come in and rest, unless he preferred to go at 
 once and dress. Gleason concluded it best to go, but, 
 in the hearing and presence of the garrison officers who 
 were standing near, begged Mrs. Stannard to explain 
 to the ladies that he had to report to the commanding 
 F 11
 
 122 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 officer, and would she please say to Miss Sanford that 
 he would call at five ? 
 
 What could that mean ? was Mrs. Stannard's vexed 
 inquiry of her inner consciousness. Was the widower 
 bent on making the most of his time in an endeavor to 
 fascinate the Eastern belle? The ladies were hardly 
 dressed when he reappeared, and was urging Miss San- 
 ford to come out with him for a brief stroll to see the 
 mountain prairie and take a whiff of Wyoming breezes, 
 when the appearance of Mrs. Turner and others (who 
 had just happened by, but hearing their voices could 
 not resist rushing in to welcome Mrs. Truscott, etc., 
 etc.) put an end to the possibility. It was a comfort 
 to note that though perfectly courteous and pleasant in 
 her manner, even to the extent of that indefinable yet 
 perceptible half intimacy which exists between travel 
 ling companions, Miss Sanford seemed in no wise en 
 couraging and by no means displeased at the interruption 
 to the plan so audaciously proposed. At dinner Mr. 
 Gleason sat opposite the young lady, and was, therefore, 
 obliged to talk much with Mrs. Stannard. After din 
 ner he promptly established himself by Miss Sanford's 
 side, showing her albums full of photographs of the 
 officers, a collection the major and his wife had been 
 making for years, and one in which they took great 
 delight. Gleason knew most of them, and it enabled 
 him to be very entertaining, as he could tell some anec 
 dote or incident connected with so many, but the early 
 coming of visitors broke in upon his monopoly, yet 
 could not wholly drive him from her side. It was ob 
 served by every man and woman who came in that 
 evening how assiduous was Gleason in his attentions.
 
 AT RUSSELL. 123 
 
 More than that, there was something about them that 
 can best be described by the word possessive. It seemed 
 as though he had studied the art of behaving as though 
 he felt that every look and word was welcome to her. 
 Mrs. Stannard was secretly exasperated ; Mrs. Truscott, 
 who knew nothing of him until their westward journey, 
 was only vaguely annoyed, but no one could tell from 
 her manner what Miss Sanford thought. 
 
 It was after eleven when the last of the visitors with 
 drew, and still he lingered. Once more Miss Sanford 
 stood by the centre-table and bent over one of the al 
 bums. She turned rapidly over the pages until she 
 reached a cabinet picture of a dark-eyed, dark-haired, 
 trim-built young officer in cavalry undress uniform. 
 
 " You did not tell me who this was, Mr. Gleason." 
 
 " That? Oh ! That is Mr. Ray of our regiment," 
 was the reply, in a tone lack-lustre of all interest. 
 
 " Mr. Ray ? Where ? Let me see/' exclaimed Mrs. 
 Truscott, coming quickly to them. "Oh, isn't that 
 perfect ? When did you get it, Mrs. Stannard ? How 
 mean of him not to send us one !" 
 
 " It was taken in Denver this spring," said Mrs. 
 Stannard. " The major says it's the only picture he has 
 ever seen of Mr. Ray, and it is as good as one can be 
 that doesn't represent him in the saddle. You know 
 we think him the best rider in the th, we ladies, that 
 is," she added, knowing this to be one of Gleason's 
 weak points. Mr. Gleason made no remark. 
 
 " What became of the other members of the board, 
 Mr. Gleason ?" she continued. " I expected to see 
 Captain Buxton and Mr. Ray." 
 
 " Oh, they gave us all ten days' delay in joining so
 
 124 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 as to say good-by to friends, you know. Buxton stopped 
 to see his wife's family at Leavenworth, but he'll be 
 through here in a day or two." Then came a pause. 
 
 " And where is Mr. Kay ? I supposed that he would 
 be off like a shot." 
 
 There was an unmistakable sneer on Mr. Gleason's 
 face, though the reply was vague and hesitating. 
 
 " Yes, Ray made no end of fuss about getting off 
 until the orders came ; since then I haven't heard much 
 that is, I haven't seen anything of him." 
 
 " He couldn't well get to the regiment without going 
 through here, could he ?" 
 
 " No ; but he hasn't gone, and he won't be going in 
 any great hurry." 
 
 It was evident to Mrs. Stannard that Gleason was 
 striving to be questioned. "Whatever he knew he was 
 ready to tell, provided some one would ask. Mrs. 
 Truscott and Miss Sanford stood silently by, still look 
 ing at the photograph, when Mrs. Stannard again spoke. 
 
 " "Well, Mr. Ray was never behind in any previous 
 campaign, and I'll venture to predict he isn't far behind 
 now. Now, Mr. Gleason, I'm going to send you home, 
 for these ladies are tired out with their long journey." 
 
 He would fain have put in another word about Ray, 
 but she was vigilant and checked him. He hoped for 
 an invitation to breakfast, but it did not come. He 
 plead with languishing eyes for a few moments more 
 at the side of the lady he desired to fascinate, but Miss 
 Sanford was still looking at the photographs and would 
 not return his glance. Go he had to, and it was plain 
 to him that in striving to belittle Ray he had damaged 
 his own cause. It made him bitterer still as he strode
 
 RAF TO THE FRONT. 125 
 
 through the darkness down to the beacon-lights of the 
 store. Gleason drank more and talked more before he 
 went to bed than was good for him ; but no seed is 
 so easily sown as that of slander. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 KAY TO THE FRONT. 
 
 IT has been said that Major Stannard told his wife 
 that he proposed going down to camp, hunting up Mr. 
 Wilkins, and getting from him "flat-footed" the 
 authority he had for his insinuations at Mr. Ray's ex 
 pense the day before the regiment marched for the 
 Black Hills. The major went as he proposed ; but at 
 the very moment he reached camp the object of his 
 search was unpacking Mrs. Wilkins's trunks up in the 
 garrison. Stannard left word with the officer of the 
 day that he wanted to see Mr. Wilkins on important 
 business right after " retreat" (sunset) roll-call ; and 
 Wilkins was quick to divine that the major had already 
 heard of his morning's mischief at the store. He stood 
 in awe of the battalion commander, and knew well that 
 when it came to a face to face encounter with him there 
 could be no dodging. He must swallow his words or 
 give his authority. Wilkins, therefore, had impor 
 tant business of his own or his able wife's devising 
 which kept him from going to camp during the even 
 ing, and Stannard, being only the major, could not 
 
 11*
 
 126 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 order him thither in the face of the colonel's permis 
 sion to be absent. He trudged back across the prairie 
 in 'no amiable mood, therefore, and swore in stalwart 
 Anglo-Saxon to Captain Merrill that he would bring 
 Wilkins to the scratch if he had to go to his quarters 
 to do it. They looked in at the store, and Wilkins 
 wasn't there, so together they walked up the row until 
 they came to the cottage into which the lares and pe- 
 nates of the Wilkins family had so recently been car 
 ried, and Mrs. Wilkins herself met them at the door. 
 She was afraid of nobody, and had doubtless been re 
 quested (he never directed) by her husband to see who 
 was knocking. Now Mrs. Wilkins was as fond of 
 Major Stannard as her husband was afraid of him. 
 She liked his blunt, sturdy, unaffected ways, and many 
 a time and oft she had held him up to her submissive 
 lord as the sort of soldier he ought to be. She knew 
 nothing of the affair at the store as yet, and Wilkins 
 was afraid to tell her. With her keen insight she had 
 long since discovered that her husband's associates and 
 intimates in the regiment were not the strong or the 
 good men, and she had warned him at Sandy that 
 whatever he might have against such men as Truscott 
 or Ray, he had better stamp it out and seek to re-estab 
 lish himself in their good opinion. Such men as Glea- 
 son, with whom he consorted, would soon get him into 
 trouble. Poor Wilkins heard the major's blunt salu 
 tation at the door and his wife's cordial invitation to 
 walk in ; but the major declined with thanks. " Ask 
 Mr. Wilkins to come out here on the piazza, please ; I 
 want to see him on business," was his request; and 
 when Mrs. Wilkins came puffing up-stairs supplement-
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 127 
 
 ing the message with a " Hurry now; the major isn't 
 the man for you to keep waiting," the hapless veteran 
 wished himself anywhere out of Wyoming ; but down 
 he went with rather a hang-dog look. Stannard had 
 met him with unexpected kindness of manner. " I'm 
 worried about the story told of Ray, Mr. Wilkins, and 
 I've come to get the authority from you. Of course 
 you must have had something to base such statements 
 upon," and being fairly cornered, Wilkins said his in 
 formant was Gleason. Being asked to show the letter, 
 Wilkins declared that he had burned it, and would 
 never have alluded to it but for Blake's manner, which 
 he declared had goaded him into the remarks. Then 
 he told Stannard that Gleason wrote in so many words 
 that Ray was with Rallston night and day, and inti 
 mated that the latter kept him at cards and wine most 
 of the time, and that if some scandal did not result 
 when it came to paying for the horses he would be sur 
 prised. Still, he could not quote the language ; but he 
 gave his impressions. Stannard had called Merrill to 
 witness the statement; then, giving Wilkins injunc 
 tions to say nothing more to anybody on the subject, 
 and pledging Merrill to reticence, he had gone home, 
 written brief and hurried letters to Ray and to Glea 
 son, told his wife that he had heard the stories, and 
 that until Ray had a chance to explain would regard 
 them as baseless rumors, or at the worst as exaggera 
 tions, for which Gleason was responsible ; then he had 
 slept the sleep of the just until the corporal of the 
 guard came banging at the door at four A.M. to say the 
 reveille had sounded out in camp. Two hours later he 
 had jogged away at the head of his battalion.
 
 128 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Mr. Gleason's complacent acceptance of her reluctant 
 invitation, and his evident expectation of more to come, 
 were matters that therefore annoyed Mrs. Stannard not 
 a little. She knew well that her husband had written 
 him an angry letter, demanding that he either withdraw 
 or substantiate the allegations he had made at the ex 
 pense of Mr. Ray, but she had not been told what 
 those allegations were. She felt certain that the letter 
 had reached Mr. Gleason, for it was sent to the care of 
 the commanding officer at Hays, yet here was the lieu 
 tenant himself, beaming with effusive cordiality. She 
 felt more than certain that^ were " Luce" at the post 
 Mr. Gleason would by no means be seeking to make 
 himself at home in his quarters, but Luce with the 
 eight companies of the th was out of reach. Gleason 
 was striving to make himself at home with her and her 
 guests, and, as far as the latter were concerned, he had 
 the sanction and apparent approval of Captain Trus- 
 cott, whose name he incessantly quoted, as though the 
 terms of intimacy between them were already estab 
 lished beyond peradventure. 
 
 " Truscott paid me one of the highest compliments I 
 ever remember having received," said Mr. Gleason to 
 the three ladies at dinner, and Mr. Gleason was a man 
 who was always receiving compliments of one kind or 
 another, if one could accept his statements. " He said 
 that he had never seen the troop look so well as whop 
 I turned it over to him at Wallace." Now, as he had 
 arrived at Wallace on the same train with the Trus- 
 cotts, and did not " turn over" anything connected with 
 the troop but the property returns, anybody acquainted 
 with such matters would have known that Truscott's
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 129 
 
 commendation, if bestowed at all, was probably given 
 to the junior lieutenant, who had put the troop in 
 handsome shape during the absence of Mr. Gleason on 
 the horse board; but what Gleason aimed at was to 
 make an impression on Miss Sanford's mind, since she 
 could not be expected to know the intricacies of such 
 matters. Mrs. Stannard would have been glad to cor 
 rect the impression, but could not in courtesy to her 
 guests, and so she remained silent. She meant, how 
 ever, to discourage his visits in future, but he was too 
 old a practitioner for her simple methods. She had 
 slipped into the kitchen to see how nice a breakfast was 
 being prepared for her guests the following morning, 
 and in that brief absence he had appeared at the open 
 door- way to urge the ladies to come out and see guard 
 mounting. They were just down ; the air was delicious 
 out on the piazza, the band was inspiring; so what 
 more natural than that Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford 
 should make their first appearance that morning escorted 
 by the obnoxious Gleason ? When Mrs. Stanuard came 
 back from the kitchen they were all on the piazza, and 
 others were strolling up the walk to join them. After 
 the spirited little parade was over and the infantry 
 officers had to go to the presence of their commander, 
 Gleason lingered. He had no duties as yet, and how 
 could she avoid it, ladies ? Mrs. Stannard had to ask 
 him if he had breakfasted when the maid came to an 
 nounce that breakfast was served. He had ; but it was 
 easy for Gleason to say that he had merely sipped a cup 
 of coffee and to insure the invitation he intended to 
 extract. After breakfast she had her household duties 
 to attend to, Mrs. Truscott had unpacking and other
 
 130 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 matters to look after. Miss Sanford felt that some one 
 ought to entertain their late escort, and the duty fell to 
 her. Garrison people who called that morning were 
 edified by finding Mr. Gleason and Miss Sanford ttte- 
 d,-tete in the parlor despite Mrs. Stannard's efforts. 
 Mrs. Turner was promptly on hand, so were other 
 ladies, and that they made certain inferences at the 
 time, and compared notes later in the day, is, perhaps, 
 supererogation to state. 
 
 On one pretext or another there was not an hour 
 during that morning in which Mr. Gleason failed to 
 appear at Major Stannard's quarters, and by two P.M., 
 at which hour there was a gathering at the adjutant's 
 office to await the distribution of the mail, it is not 
 to be wondered at that one of Colonel Whaling's officers 
 remarked to another that the cavalry seemed to have 
 the inside track, if there was to be any race for the 
 Jersey belle, and that others looked knowing when 
 Gleason appeared to inquire if any letters had come for 
 the ladies at Major Stannard's. There was no neces 
 sity whatever for his going, Mrs. Stannard protested. 
 The orderly would bring the mail in five minutes if 
 anything had come ; but Gleason said that the orderly 
 would have to stop in two or three houses before he got 
 there, and he knew Mrs. Truscott was impatient, and 
 so she was. In a minute he was back with letters for all 
 three, but Miss Sanford's was a mere note in reply to 
 an order she had sent East, and while Mrs. Stannard 
 and Mrs. Truscott retired to read the long letters that 
 had come from their respective lords, once more Miss 
 Sanford found herself entertaining the assiduous Gleason, 
 She was beginning to think army life distasteful.
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 131 
 
 Determined to break up this monopoly, the major's 
 wife came speedily again to the parlor. Something 
 she had read in her husband's letter had fired her with 
 resentment against Gleason and nerved her to resolute 
 measures. " Not a word of reply have I had from 
 Kay," wrote Stannard, " nor has Gleason yet answered, 
 though I know the letter was delivered to him. In 
 conversation with Billings last night he admitted that 
 he, too, had heard that Kay had been playing fast and 
 loose at Kansas City, and when I asked him how it 
 was brought to him, he replied that Wayne told him, 
 and Wayne had a letter from Gleason. I wish Billings 
 and Ray could have seen more of each other this spring ; 
 there is some feeling between them which I cannot 
 fathom and do not understand. It will disappear when 
 Ray joins us, for Billings cannot help admiring his 
 energy and usefulness in actual campaign. As yet 
 nothing of great interest has occurred, but everything 
 points to wild excitement at the reservations. We are 
 camping to-night at the Cardinal's Chair up on the Nio- 
 brara, and march northward to-morrow by way of Old 
 Woman Fork to the Mini Pusa. General Sheridan's 
 orders are to hide in the valley of the South Cheyenne, 
 and keep a sharp watch on the trails crossing northwest 
 ward, and be ready to strike any and all parties of hos- 
 tiles going up from the reservations on White River. 
 Of course here will be sharp work. We have had two 
 rushes already, for the Sioux have war-parties out rob 
 bing stock and running off horses from far south of 
 the Platte, and a big band swept down the Chug Water 
 within forty-five miles of you the very day we left 
 Lodge Pole. ' K' went forward in pursuit, but they
 
 132 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 had too big a start. This letter goes by courier to 
 Lararaie to-night. Expect nothing more now for a 
 week, as even the Black Hills stages have quit run 
 ning. The Indians have driven off every white man 
 between the Platte and the Yellowstone except those in 
 the Black Hills settlements, and they are practically 
 isolated. It was rumored that Webb and Truscott 
 would be ordered forward to join us, and I suppose 
 Buxton and Ray will take that opportunity of joining 
 their companies. Should Mr. Gleason stay any time 
 near Russell he will doubtless be inclined to cultivate 
 the ladies from Wallace, Mrs. Truscott and Miss San- 
 ford especially. If I could have seen Truscott or fore 
 seen the plan, it would have been easy to prevent it. 
 As I could not do either, you must give him few oppor 
 tunities of visiting them at our house. They will be 
 in their own, though, by the time he comes." 
 
 They were not, however, as we have seen. The 
 major had not contemplated the possibility of Gleason's 
 taking a " ten days' delay" before reporting for duty, 
 and so having ample time in which to ingratiate him 
 self with the ladies. What he would have said in his 
 own vigorous English could he have seen the lieuten 
 ant leaning over Miss Sanford's shoulder as she sat at 
 the table once more looking through the cavalry album, 
 will not bear recording in these pages. As Mrs. Stan- 
 nard herself glanced in from the hall-way she more 
 than wished that Luce were home if only to hear her 
 lion growl. She thought anxiously of him and of the 
 situation of affairs in the Indian country only a hun 
 dred miles to the north. She dreaded to tell Mrs. 
 Truscott of the regiment's prospects for immediate ac-
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 133 
 
 tion, but she determined to try some expedient to rid 
 Miss Sanford and the house of the presence of Mr. 
 Gleason. Her air was brisk and determined, therefore, 
 as she entered the parlor. 
 
 " The major writes me from the Niobrara crossing 
 that the regiment has had some sharp chasing to do 
 already, and that they will be across the trails in two 
 days, when they will certainly have fighting," she said, 
 looking intently at Mr. Gleason. " What news do you 
 get?" 
 
 " Well, my mail has all gone on to Wallace, you see ? 
 Mrs. Stannard," explained he, unwilling to admit in 
 the presence of the ladies that nobody in the regiment 
 cared enough for him to write. " It will all be up to 
 morrow or next day, I presume, and by that time the 
 troops will be here, and I'll be myself again. The real 
 cavalryman, Miss Sanford, is like a fish out of water 
 if separated more than a day from his horse. I long 
 to be in saddle again," he added, with a complacent 
 glance at the tall, well-proportioned figure reflected in 
 the mirror. Gleason prided himself, and not without, 
 reason, on his manly build, and was incessantly finding 
 some means of calling attention to it. 
 
 " If the major's views are correct, you will have 
 abundant cavalry duty this summer, Mr. Gleason," said 
 Mrs. Stannard, " and I was about to ask you if you 
 heard nothing at the office, if none of the garrison 
 officers had letters or news from the front." She hoped 
 he would offer to go and inquire in person, as he had gone 
 for the mail ; but Gleason preferred to have the officers 
 suppose that he was in full possession of news which 
 would not be sent to them. Going for the ladies' let- 
 12
 
 134 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ters implied certain authority from them, certain in 
 timacy in the household. Going to inquire for news, 
 on the contrary, implied lack of information, and it was 
 his role to play that the th kept him fully posted. 
 His reply was therefore brief, and he quickly changed 
 the subject. 
 
 " There was no news that I heard of, Mrs. Stannard, 
 but I will go and see Colonel Whaling after he has had 
 time to read all his mail. Miss Sanford was just asking 
 me something about Mr. Stryker, she was admiring 
 his photograph." 
 
 " Bring the album out on the piazza. It is lovely 
 and bright there now, and the wind is not blowing, for 
 a wonder. I think we will all be better for fresh air, 
 and Mrs. Truscott will be down in a moment." Mrs. 
 Stannard spoke decidedly, and he had no course but to 
 obey, even though he did not see the grateful look in 
 Miss Sanford's eyes. He much preferred the confiden 
 tial flavor which was possessed by a parlor interview, 
 but there was no help for it. Following the lead of his 
 hostess, he stepped out upon the piazza just as Mrs. 
 Truscott. bright, animated, and happy, came fluttering 
 down the stairs waving the captain's letter. Miss San- 
 ford glanced up at her bonny face, and smiled sympa 
 thetically. 
 
 " No need to ask you is all well, Gracie." 
 
 " No, indeed ! Jack writes that they will be in 
 camp close beside us to-morrow morning. Oh, listen ! 
 There's the band, and that is the very quickstep he used 
 to love so much at the Point." And, fairly dancing in 
 her happiness, she threw her arm around Marion's waist 
 and together they appeared at the threshold, a lovely
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 135 
 
 picture, as the cap-doffing group of officers thought to a 
 man. Half a dozen of these gentry were lolling at the 
 gate ; the broad walk was already alive with graceful 
 forms in summer dresses, with playful children and 
 sedate nurse-maids trundling the inevitable baby-car 
 riage. The band had just taken possession of its cir 
 cular stand out on the parade ; a few carriages and 
 buggies had driven out from town. It was a lovely 
 June Saturday afternoon, the hebdomadal half holi 
 day of the military bailiwick, and the dingy brown 
 frontier fort looked merry as sunshine, music, and sweet 
 faces could make it. Seeing the ladies upon the piazza, 
 there was a general movement among the officers on the 
 walk indicative of a desire to join the party, and Mr. 
 Gleason gritted his teeth and went for more chairs. 
 Mrs. Turner had appeared on her own gallery just 
 before, possibly with the intention of starting a rival 
 levee, and one or two youthful moths were fluttering 
 about her candle already. She was not averse to a flir 
 tation, ordinarily, but it did not look well to see her 
 sitting with only one or two of the infantry subalterns 
 when Mrs. Stannard's piazza was filled. She wisely 
 determined to join the majority ; smilingly transferred 
 herself and escort thither, and was as smilingly wel 
 comed. There must have been a dozen in the group 
 officers and ladies when the commanding officer's or 
 derly entered the gate, saluted Mr. Gleason, and said, 
 
 " Colonel Whaling's compliments, sir, and could you 
 tell him when Lieutenant Ray will be here ?" 
 
 The ladies looked up in surprise. The officers all 
 of whom remembered the name in connection with what 
 had been said by Messrs. Crane, Wilkins, and Gleason
 
 136 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 himself listened for his reply. Gleason was quick to 
 note the silence and to divine its cause. 
 
 " Give my compliments to the colonel, and say that 
 I do not know. I have not seen or heard rather, I 
 have not seen Mr. Ray since leaving Kansas City," he 
 replied. 
 
 For a moment no one spoke. Then, as the orderly 
 walked away, Mrs. Stannard, coloring slightly, turned 
 full upon the lieutenant. " Mr. Gleason, it seems 
 strange that you should know nothing of Mr. Ray's 
 movements. You are generally well informed, and the 
 major writes me how pleasantly they are looking for 
 ward to Ray's coming. You know that out in the 
 regiment they expect him by c pony express,' " she 
 laughingly said, for the benefit of her silent auditors. 
 
 Gleason well divined her object. It was to convey 
 to the garrison officers that Ray was popular among his 
 comrades at the front, however he might be regarded 
 by those at the rear. He had already committed him 
 self in presence of several of those now in the party, 
 and he answered, 
 
 " I'm afraid some people w r ill be disappointed, then. 
 To begin with, there is no way of his reaching the reg 
 iment until Truscott and Webb go up with their com 
 panies. He could get no farther than Laramie by stage 
 even were he here to try ; but he isn't here, and he isn't 
 likely to be, either." 
 
 "Will you tell me why?" asked Mrs. Stannard, 
 paling now, but looking fixedly at him with a gleam 
 in her blue eyes that made him wince. 
 
 " Well, I'd rather not go into particulars," he mut 
 tered, looking uneasily around.
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 
 
 137 
 
 "Is it illness, Mr. Gleason?" 
 
 "No ; I don't know that it is." 
 
 " Then, for one, I feel confident that he will be here 
 in abundant time to go by first opportunity," she said, 
 with quiet meaning. 
 
 " Who may this swell be ?" languidly remarked one 
 of the officers, looking down the road towards the gate. 
 A.11 eyes followed his in an instant. 
 
 Speeding at easy lope upon a spirited sorrel a horse 
 man came jauntily up the row. The erect carriage, the 
 perfect seat, the ease and grace with which his lithe 
 form swayed with every motion of his steed, all present 
 could see at a glance. Mrs. Stannard rose quickly to 
 her feet ; her gaze becoming eager, then joyous. 
 
 " Look !" she almost cried. " It's Mr. Kay himself !" 
 
 In another minute, throwing himself lightly from 
 the saddle, and tossing the reins to a statuesque orderly, 
 the horseman came beaming through the gate, and Mrs. 
 Stannard, to Miss Sanford's mingled amaze and appro 
 bation, was warmly grasping both his hands in hers. 
 Mrs. Truscott, blushing brightly and showing welcome 
 and pleasure in her lovely eyes, but with the reserve of 
 younger wifehood, had held forth one little hand. Then 
 she heard the voluble gush with which Mrs. Turner 
 precipitated herself upon him, and, while he remained 
 captive as he had to in that fair matron's hands, 
 laughingly answering her thronging questions, Marion 
 Sanford had her first look at the young officer who had 
 been the subject of such varying report. First impres 
 sions are ever strong, and what she saw was this : a 
 lithe, deep-chested, square-shouldered young fellow, 
 with nerve and spring in every motion, standing bare- 
 
 12*
 
 138 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 headed before them with the sunlight dancing on his 
 close-cropped hair and shapely head. His eyes were 
 dark, and heavily shaded with thick brows and long 
 curling lashes, but the eyes brightened with every laugh 
 ing word, were full of life and health and straight 
 forwardness and fun. She could not but note how clear 
 and brave and wide-open they were, despite the little 
 wrinkles gathered at the corners and a faint shading 
 underneath. His forehead, what could be seen of it 
 when he tossed aside the dark, wavy " bang" that fell 
 almost as low as her own, was white and smooth, but 
 temples, cheeks, the smooth-shaven jaws, and the round, 
 powerful throat were bronzed and tanned by sun and 
 wind, and his white teeth gleamed all the whiter through 
 the shading of the thick, curling, dark moustache, and 
 the lips that laughed so merrily were soft and pink as 
 any woman's might be; at least they were when he 
 bowed and smiled and spoke her name when introduced 
 to her, and when he nodded companionably to the bow 
 ing group of officers, to whom Mrs. Stannard presented 
 him with marked pride, " Mr. Ray of Ours," but 
 how, for a second, his eye flashed and how rigid a spasm 
 crossed his lips when Gleason's name was mentioned. 
 To him he merely nodded, and instantly turned his 
 back. All this and more Miss Sanford noted by that 
 electric process which was known to women long before 
 lightning was photographed, and enabled the sex to see 
 in a quarter-second intricate details of feminine costume 
 that it would take the nimblest tongue ten minutes to 
 describe. She noticed his dress, so unlike the precise 
 attire of his comrades, who wore, to the uttermost de 
 tail, the regulation uniform. He had tossed a broad-
 
 RA Y TO THE FRONT. 139 
 
 brimmed, light-colored scouting hat upon the little grass 
 plat as he entered, and now stood before them in the 
 field rig he so well adorned. A dark-blue, double- 
 breasted, broad-collared flannel shirt, tucked in at the 
 waist in snugly-fitting breeches of Indian-tanned buck 
 skin, while Sioux leggings encased his legs from knee 
 to ankle, and his feet were shod substantially in alli 
 gator-skin. Mexican spurs were at his heels ; a broad 
 leather belt bristling with cartridges, and supporting 
 knife and revolver, hung at his waist ; a red silk hand 
 kerchief was loosely knotted at his throat, and soft 
 brown gauntlets covered his hands until they were dis 
 carded as he greeted them. If ever man looked the 
 picture of elastic health and vigor it was Mr. Ray. 
 This, then, was something like the cavalry life of which 
 she had heard so much. Marion Sanford, despite East 
 ern education and refinement, was so unconventional as 
 to find something more attractive in Mr. Ray in this 
 same field rig than in Mr. Gleason in faultlessly accu 
 rate uniform. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Ray, how very well you look !" was 
 Mrs. Turner's exclamation, "and somebody said you 
 had been ill." 
 
 " I ? No indeed ! I never felt better in my life." 
 
 " But where have you been ? When did you come ? 
 Why didn't you write ?" were some among the count 
 less questions thrust upon him. 
 
 " I had a few days' delay, you know ; came by way 
 of Omaha to see my sister ; just arrived at one to-day ; 
 left my trunks with the quartermaster at the depot ; 
 got into field rig in fifteen minutes ; packed my saddle 
 bags and slung them on Dandy, who has been waiting
 
 140 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 for me ever since the regiment marched ; galloped out 
 here to say good-by to you, and in half an hour I'll be 
 off for Laramie." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Ray ! What can be the hurry ? Why 
 start this evening ?" 
 
 "Why not?" he laughed. " Dandy and I can reach 
 the Chug and put up with old Phillipse to-night, and 
 gallop on to Laramie to-morrow. Once there, it won't 
 take me long to find my way out to the regiment." 
 
 " Why, the whole country is full of Indians !" ex 
 postulated Mrs. Stannard. " The major writes in this 
 very letter that no one ventures north of the Platte." 
 
 " How did the letter come in, then ? and how is com 
 munication kept up?" asked the lieutenant, showing 
 his white teeth in his amusement. 
 
 " Oh ! couriers, of course ; but they are half-breeds, 
 and have lived all their life in that country." 
 
 " Well, I can wriggle through if they can. One 
 thing is certain, it won't be for lack of trying. So, 
 whatever you may have to send to the major, get ready ; 
 the lightning express leaves at 4.30. I must go and 
 report my movements to the commanding officer, and 
 then will come back to you. Is the adjutant here?" 
 he asked, looking around at the party of infantrymen 
 who were standing waiting for a chance to excuse them 
 selves, and leave the ladies to the undisputed possession 
 of their evident favorite. Mr. Warner bowed : 
 
 " At your service, Mr. Ray." 
 
 " Will you come and present me to the colonel ? I 
 will be back in ten minutes, Mrs. Stannard ; and, Mrs. 
 Truscott, remember it is over a year since I saw you 
 last, and you gave me good luck the last time I went
 
 RAT TO THE FRONT. 
 
 out scouting." "With that, and a general bow by way 
 of parting courtesy, Mr. Ray took himself and the 
 post adjutant off. For a moment there was silence. 
 Everybody gazed after him except Gleason. 
 
 " Isn't that just too characteristic of Mr. Ray for 
 anything?" exclaimed Mrs. Turner. "I wonder if 
 any other officer would be in such a hurry to risk his 
 scalp in chasing the regiment ? You wouldn't, would 
 you, Mr. Gleason ?" she added, with the deliberate and 
 mischievous impertinence she knew would sting, and 
 meant should sting, and felt serenely confident that her 
 victim could not resent. He flushed hotly : 
 
 " My duties are with my troop, Mrs. Turner, and 
 Mr. Ray's with his. When my troop goes I go with 
 it. When his went he didn't. That's all there is to 
 it." . 
 
 "But he couldn't go, Mr. Gleason, as you well 
 know," replied Mrs. Turner ; and evidently Mrs. Stan- 
 nard, too, was eager to ask him what he had to say 
 now about Mr. Ray's staying behind. To tell the truth, 
 he was more dismayed by Ray's appearance than he 
 dare admit even to himself. He was startled. He had 
 grave reason for not wanting to meet him again, and as 
 the officers were scattering he seized a pretext, called to 
 one of them that he wished to speak with him a moment, 
 and hurried away. When Ray returned from the colo 
 nel's quarters, he had the field to himself, and that they 
 might have him their regimental possession to them 
 selves, Mrs. Stannard begged the younger ladies to usher 
 him into the parlor, where they could be secure against 
 interruption until he had to start. 
 
 Gleason's business with his infantry friend was of
 
 142 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 slight moment, apparently, as he speedily left him and 
 wended his way to the quarters of the commanding 
 officer. Old Colonel Whaling was just coming forth, 
 and they met at the gate. 
 
 " You sent me an inquiry a few moments ago, sir, 
 which I could not answer at the time," said the lieu 
 tenant, in his blandest manner. " I see that Mr. Ray 
 has arrived to speak for himself. May I ask if he was 
 wanted for anything especial?" And Gleason looked 
 very closely into the grizzled features of the command 
 ant. 
 
 " Some letters for him had been sent with my mail 
 and a telegram. I inferred that he must be coming, 
 and thought you might know. Rather a spirited 
 young fellow he seems to be. I was quite startled at 
 his notion -of riding alone in search of the regiment. 
 How soon does he start ? I see his horse there yet." 
 
 " He spoke of going in a few moments, sir. You 
 see we have been so much accustomed to this sort of 
 thing in Arizona that there is nothing unusual in it to 
 us. Still, I hardly expected Mr. Ray would be going 
 or rather there were some matters which he left un 
 settled that I supposed would prevent his going. You 
 didn't happen to notice where his letters were from, I 
 suppose ?" asked the lieutenant, tentatively. 
 
 The colonel would have colored had he been younger, 
 but his grizzled old face had long since lost its capacity 
 for blushing. He felt that it grew hot, however, and 
 Gleason's insinuation cut, as Gleason knew it would. 
 Old Whaling was morbidly inquisitive as to the corre 
 spondence of his officers, and could rarely resist the 
 temptation of studying postmarks, seals, superscrip-
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 143 
 
 ;iou, and general features of all letters that came 
 ;hrough his hands. 
 
 " Not not especially," he stammered. 
 
 Gleason saw his advantage and pursued it. He 
 spoke with all apparent hesitancy and proper regret. 
 
 " I feared that he might have been recalled, or his 
 yoing arrested by orders from division headquarters, or 
 from Fort Leaven worth. Some things with regard to 
 ;he purchase of one lot of horses, of which I disap 
 proved, were being looked into when I came away, and 
 
 when "Well, colonel, it is against the rule of our 
 
 regiment to talk to outsiders of one another" (" Like 
 ahem !" was old Whaling's muttered comment as lie 
 recalled what he had heard of Gleason's revelations at 
 the store), " and I would not allude to this but that, as 
 3ommanding officer, you will be sure to hear of it all, 
 You see the principal dealer with whom we did busi 
 ness is a brother-in-law of Mr. Ray's, a fellow named 
 Rallston, and some of his horses wouldn't pass muster 
 anywhere ; but well, Ray was with him day after day, 
 and kept aloof from Buxton and myself, and there was 
 some money transaction between them, and there's been 
 a row. At the last moment Rallston came to me to 
 complain that he had been cheated, and what I'm afraid 
 of is that Ray promised to secure the acceptance of a 
 lot of worthless horses by the board for some five hun 
 dred dollars cash advanced him by Rallston. He was 
 hot about it, and swore he would bring matters to Gen 
 eral Sheridan's notice instantly. That is what made 
 me so guarded in the reply I sent you. I owe you this 
 explanation, colonel, but trust you will consider it con 
 fidential."
 
 144 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Whaling looked greatly discomposed but unquestion 
 ably interested. He eyed Gleason sharply and took it 
 all in without a word. 
 
 " I thought some of his letters might have been from 
 Leavenworth," said Gleason, after a pause. 
 
 " One of them was, that is, I think I saw the office 
 mark, but nothing official has reached me on the matter. 
 I'm sorry to hear it, very ; for both your colonel and 
 Major Stannard spoke in highest terms of Mr. Ray 
 when they were here." 
 
 " Oh, Ray has done good service and all that sort 
 of thing, but when a fellow of his age gets going down 
 hill with debts and drinking and cards well, you know 
 how it has been in your own regiment, colonel." 
 
 " He don't look like a drinking man," said the colo 
 nel. " I never saw clearer eyes or complexion in any 
 fellow." 
 
 " Ye-es; he looks unusually well just now." 
 
 And just at that moment as they stood there talking 
 of him, Mrs. Stannard's door opened and he came 
 forth, the three ladies following. He did look well, 
 more than well, as he turned with extended hand to 
 say good-by. " Dandy," his lithe-limbed sorrel, pricked 
 up his dainty, pointed ears and whinnied eagerly as he 
 heard his step on the piazza, giving himself a shake 
 that threatened the dislocation of his burden of blank 
 ets, canteen, and saddle-bags. The ladies surrounded 
 him at the gate. Mrs. Stannard's kind blue eyes were 
 moistening. How often had she said good-by to the 
 young fellows starting out as buoyantly as Ray to-day, 
 thinking as she did so of the mothers and sisters at 
 home ! How often had it happened that they came
 
 RAY TO THE FRONT. 145 
 
 back maimed, pallid, suffering, or not at all ! She 
 had always liked Ray, he was so frank, so loyal, so 
 true, and more than ever she liked now to show her 
 friendship and regard since he had been slandered. 
 Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford stood with arms en 
 twined about each other's waist, the sweetest and best 
 of them have that innate, inevitable coquetry, and 
 Mrs. Stannard bent forward to rearrange the silken 
 knot at his throat, giving it an approving pat as she 
 surveyed the improvement. Ray smiled his thanks. 
 
 " Do you remember the night at Sandy, Mrs. Trus 
 cott, the last scout we started out on, and how you 
 came to see us off and wish me good luck ?" 
 
 "As well as though it were only yesterday," she 
 answered. 
 
 " We had good luck. It was one of the best scouts 
 ever made from Sandy, and the Apaches caught it 
 heavily. It was a success all through except our our 
 losing Tanner and Kerrigan. Jack's hit was to be 
 envied." 
 
 She shuddered and drew closer to Miss Sanford's 
 side. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ray ! I cannot bear to think of that fight. 
 I won't wish you good luck again. You always expect 
 it to mean unlimited meetings with the Indians. I 
 pray you may not see one." 
 
 " Then I appeal to you, Miss Sanford. Shall I con 
 fess that your name is one I have envied for the last 
 five years ? No, don't be amazed ! "We Kentuckians 
 always associate it now with two of our grandest 
 horses, Monarchist and Harry Bassett. Why, I'm 
 going to ride the old Sanford colors myself this sum- 
 Q k 13
 
 146 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 mer. See, the dark blue ?" he laughed, pointing to 
 his breast. 
 
 " Then you should be among the first coming home," 
 she answered, brightly, "and that isn't your custom, 
 I'm told." 
 
 " But in this case the whole regiment will be wearing 
 the dark blue ; so there will be no distinction. I won't 
 beg for a ribbon. It's bad luck. I stole the tassel of 
 Miss Pelham's fan in Arizona and wore it on the next 
 dash ; we never saw an Indian, and she married a fel 
 low who stayed at home. All the same, Miss Sanford, 
 if you hear of the th doing anything especially lively 
 this summer, remember that one fellow in the crowd 
 rides his best to win for the sake of your colors. Au 
 revoir. Come, Dandy, you -scamp ; now for a scamper 
 to the Chug." 
 
 He sprang lightly into saddle, waved his hat to 
 them, then bent low, as by sudden impulse, and held 
 out his hand. 
 
 " God bless you, Mrs. Stannard !" he said ; and look 
 ing at her in half surprise, they saw her eyes were 
 brimming with tears. 
 
 Another moment and he had turned Dandy's head to 
 the west, and was tripping up the road past the adju 
 tant's office. They saw him raise his gauntleted hand 
 in salute to the post commander, and heard his voice 
 call out, ringingly, " Good-day, colonel." They saw 
 that between him and Mr. Gleason no sign of recogni 
 tion passed, and they stood in silence watching him 
 until, turning out at the west gate, he struck a lope and 
 disappeared behind the band quarters, out on the open 
 prairie.
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 147 
 
 When Mr. Gleason touched his cap to the colonel 
 and started to rejoin the ladies, they saw him coming. 
 Nobody said a word, but the three ladies re-entered the 
 house, Mrs. Truscott last ; but it was Mrs. Stannard 
 who turned back in the hall and shut the door. When 
 Gleason reached the front gate he concluded not to 
 enter, but went on down the row. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 
 
 IT is a cloudless Sunday morning, the longest Sun 
 day in that month of longest days, warm, balmy, rose- 
 bearing June. Only a few hours' high is the blazing 
 god of day, but his beams beat fiercely down on a land 
 scape wellnigh as arid as the Arizona our troopers 
 knew so well. Not a breath of air is stirring. Down 
 in the shallow valley to the right, where the cotton- 
 woods are blistering beside the sandy stream-bed, a faint 
 column of smoke rises straight as the stem of a pine- 
 tree until it melts into indistinguishable air. The 
 sandy waste goes twisting and turning in its fringe of 
 timber southeastward along a broad depression in the 
 face of the land, until twenty odd miles away it seems 
 brought up standing by a barrier of rugged hills that 
 dip into the bare surface at the south, and go rising and 
 falling, rolling and tumbling, higher and raggeder, to 
 the north. All the intervening stretches are bare,
 
 148 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 tawny, sun-scorched, except those fringing cottonwoods. 
 All those tumbling heights are dark and frowning 
 through their beards of gloomy larch and pine. 
 Black they stand against the eastern sky, from the 
 jagged summits at the south to where the northernmost 
 peak, the Inyan Kara, the Heengha-Kaaga of the 
 Sioux, stands sentinel over the sisterhood slumbering 
 at her feet. These are the Black Hills of Dakota, as 
 we see them from the breaks of the Mini Pusa, a long 
 day's march to the west. Here to our right, southeast 
 ward, rolls the powdery flood of the South Cheyenne, 
 when earlier in the season the melting snows go trick 
 ling down the hill-sides. But to-day only in dry and 
 waving ripples of sand can we trace its course. If you 
 would see the water, dig beneath the surface. Here 
 behind us rolls another sandy stream, dry as its Dakota 
 name implies, Mini Pusa : Dry Water, and to our 
 right and rear is their sandy confluence. Southward, 
 almost to the very horizon, in waves and rolls and 
 ridges, bare of trees, void of color, the earth unfolds 
 before the eye, while, as though to relieve the strain of 
 gazing over the expanse so illimitable in its monotony, 
 a blue line of cliffs- and crags stretches across the sky 
 line for many degrees. Beyond that, out of sight to 
 the southeast, lies the sheltered, fertile valley of the 
 upper White Earth River; and there are the legal 
 homes of thousands of the " nation's wards," the bands 
 of the Dakotas Ogallalla and Brule, led by Red Cloud 
 and Spotted Tail. There, too, are clothed and fed and 
 cared for a thousand odd Cheyennes. Just over that 
 ridge at its western end, where it seems to blend into 
 the general surface of upland prairie, a faint blue peak
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 149 
 
 leaps up into the heated air, "Old Rawhide," the 
 landmark of the region. Farther off, south west ward, 
 still another peak rises blue and pale against the burn 
 ing distance. 'Tis far across the Platte, a good hun 
 dred miles away. Plainsmen to this day call it Larmie 
 in that iconoclastic slaughter of every poetic title that is 
 their proud characteristic. All over our grand conti 
 nent it is the same. The names, musical, sonorous, or 
 descriptive, handed down as the heritage of the French 
 missionaries, the Spanish explorers, or the aboriginal 
 owners, are all giving way to that democratic intoler 
 ance of foreign title which is the birthright of the 
 free-born American. What name more grandly de 
 scriptive could discoverer have given to the rounded, 
 gloomy crest in the southern sierras, bald at the crown, 
 fringed with its circling pines, what better name than 
 Monte San Mate"o Saint Matthew, he of the shaven 
 poll? 
 
 Over a century the title held. Adaptive Indian, 
 Catholic Mexican, acceptive dragoon, one and all re 
 spected and believed in it. But then came the miner 
 and the cowboy, and with them the new vocabulary. 
 Monte San Mate"o slinks in unmerited shame to hide 
 its heralded deformity as Baldhead Butte. What dev 
 ilish inspiration impelled the Forty-Niners to damn 
 Monte San Pablo to go down to eternity as Bill Wil 
 liams' Mountain ? Who but an iconoclast would rend 
 the sensitive ear with such barbarities as the Loss Ang- 
 glees of to-day for the deep-vowelled Los Angeles of 
 the last century ? Who but a Yankee would swap the 
 murky " Purgatoire" for Picketwire, and make Zumbro 
 River of the Riviere des Ombres of brave old Pere 
 
 13*
 
 150 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Marquette ? And so ; too, it goes through all the broad 
 Northwest. Indian names, beautiful in themselves 
 even though at times untranslatable, are tossed con 
 temptuously aside to be replaced by the homeliest of 
 every-day appellations, until the modern geography of 
 "Wyoming, Dakota, Montana, and Idaho bristles with 
 innumerable Sage, Boxelder, Horse, and Pine Creeks. 
 
 Mini Pusa Dry Water have the Dakotas called 
 for ages the sandy stream that twists and turns and 
 glares in the hot sunshine down here in the vale behind 
 us. " Muggins's Fork," some stockman said he heard 
 it called a month ago. Far over there to the east 
 almost under the black shadow of the hills we see 
 another slender thread of questionable green ; cotton- 
 woods again, no doubt, for nothing but cottonwoods or 
 sage-brush or grease- wood worse yet will grow down 
 in the alkaline wastes of this Wyoming valley ; and that 
 thread or fringe betokens the existence of a stream in 
 the spring-time, one that the Sioux have ever called 
 the Beaver, after the amphibious rodent who dammed 
 its waters, and thereby rescued them from a like fate at 
 the hands of modern residents. Far to the southeast, 
 miles and miles away, dim and hazy through the heat 
 waves of the atmosphere one can almost see another 
 twisting string of shade, the cottonwoods on the banks 
 of the winding War Bonnet ; at least so the Sioux named 
 it, after their gorgeous crown of eagle feathers, but 'twas 
 too polysyllabic, too poetic for the blunt-spoken fron 
 tiersman, who long since compromised on Hat Creek. 
 We are in the heart of the Indian country, but the wild 
 romance has fled. We are on dangerous ground, for 
 there, straight away before our eyes, broad, beaten as a
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 
 
 race-course, prominent as any public highway, descend 
 ing the slope until lost in the timber of the South Chey 
 enne, then reappearing beyond, until far in the southeast 
 it dwindles in perspective to a mere thread, and so dips 
 into the valley of the War Bonnet and Indian Creek, 
 there lies the broad road from the reservations to the 
 war-path. It is the trail over which for years the 
 " Wards of the Nation" have borne the paid-up prices 
 of their good behavior to sustain their brethren rene- 
 gados in the Powder Kiver Country far up here to the 
 northwest. Over this road all winter long, all the 
 spring-tide, and to this very week in June, arms, ammu 
 nition, ponies, bacon, flour, coffee, sugar, clothing, and 
 warriors have been speeding to the hosts of Sitting Bull. 
 The United States is sending to-day three or four thou 
 sand men at arms, equipped and supplied by the De 
 partment of War, to try conclusions with about twioe 
 that number of trained warriors similarly provided for 
 by the Department of the Interior. It is odd, but it is 
 a fact. Camping along the banks of the Rawhide, the 
 first stream on the Indian side of the Platte, the officer 
 in command of the advance-guard of the th was 
 surprised to see a train of wagons and without apparent 
 escort. Galloping down to their fires, he accosted the 
 wagon-master, who smilingly assured him that he and 
 his train were in no danger from the Indians, they 
 were bringing them supplies. What supplies ? Why, 
 metallic cartridges, of course, Winchester and Henry, 
 for their magazine-rifles, don't you know ? Oh, yes. 
 He understood well enough that they were all going 
 out on the war-path, but he couldn't help that. He 
 was piiid so much a month to haul supplies from Sid-
 
 152 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ney to Red Cloud agency, and if it happened to be 
 powder and lead, 'tweren't none o' his business. How 
 much had he? Oh, three or four hundred thousand 
 rounds, he reckoned. To whom consigned ? Why, 
 the trader, the Indian store at Red Cloud, of course, 
 
 Mr. 's. In speechless indignation the officer rides 
 
 off and reports the matter to the colonel, and the colo 
 nel goes down and interviews the imperturbable " boss" 
 with similar result, and more ; for he comes back with 
 a shrug of the shoulders and some honest blasphemy, 
 for which may Heaven forgive him. (The fine inflicted 
 by army regulations has not yet been collected.) " We 
 can do nothing," he says. " That fellow has his papers 
 straight from the Interior Department. He has been 
 hauling cartridges all spring." And now, here is the 
 advance-guard of the th again far up on the Mini 
 Pusa, just arrived, and that slender column of smoke 
 rising from among the cottonwoods tells of a tiny fire 
 where the men are boiling their coffee, while, miles away 
 to the southwest, the rising dust-clouds proclaim the 
 coming of the regiment itself. Out on the distant 
 heights, on either side, other smokes are rising. Indian 
 signals, that say to lurking warriors far and near, " Be 
 on your guard ; soldiers coming ;" and so, here on the 
 breaks of the Mini Pusa on this scorching Sabbath 
 morn, the vanguard of the th has reached and tapped 
 the broad highway of Indian commerce. The laws 
 of the nation they are sworn to defend prohibit their 
 interfering with the distribution of ammunition by 
 that same nation to the foes they are ordered to meet. 
 The nation is impartial : it provides friend and foe 
 alike. The War Office sends its cartridges to the th
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 153 
 
 through the ordnance officer, Lieutenant, X. The 
 
 Indian Bureau looks after its wards through Mr. 
 
 at Ked Cloud. And now the th is ordered to stop 
 those cartridges from getting to Sitting Bull up on the 
 Rosebud. That is what brings them here to the Mini 
 Pusa, and we see them now riding down in long dusty 
 column into the valley, heedless of the dust they make, 
 for the Indians have hovered on their flanks, out of 
 sight, out of range, but seeing, ever since they crossed 
 the Platte; and here they are, "old Stannard" and 
 Billings with the advance, lying prone on their stom 
 achs and searching through their field-glasses- for any 
 signs of Indian coming from the reservations, while 
 with the column itself, in their battered slouch hats and 
 rough flannel and buckskin, bristling with cartridges 
 and ugly beards, burned and blistered and parched 
 with scorching sun and winds tempered only with al 
 kali dust, ride our Arizona friends, many of them at 
 least. Old Bucketts with his green goggles ; Turner 
 with his melancholy face and placid ways ; Raymond, 
 stern and swart ; Canker, querulous and " nagging" 
 with his men, but eager for any service ; Stafford, who 
 won his troop vice the noble-hearted Tanner whom we 
 lost among the Apaches ; Wayne, who is loquacity 
 itself whenever he can find a listener, and who talks his 
 patient subaltern almost deaf through the long day 
 marches ; and Crane and Wilkins, who are a good deal 
 together at every halt, and consort more with Canker 
 than other captains ; and then there is the jolly element 
 that ever clusters around Blake, whose spirits* defy ad 
 versity, and whose merry quips and jests and boundless 
 distortions of fact or fancy are the joy of the regiment.
 
 154 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 With Blake one always finds Merrill and Freeman and 
 some of the jovial junior captains, and, of course, 
 the boys, Hunter, Dana, Briggs ; and here they are 
 on this blessed Sabbath of the Centennial June, sent up 
 
 to stop Mr. 's cartridges, after they have become 
 
 the property of " Mr. Lo ;" and once a cartridge be 
 comes Indian property, there is only one way of stop 
 ping it. The wealth of France is inadequate to pur 
 chase of Alfred Krupp a single gun from his shops at 
 Essen, because his love for Fatherland will not let him 
 place a power in the hands of the hereditary enemy. 
 It takes enlightened England and free America to sup 
 ply friends and foes alike with the means to kill. 
 
 Stannard closes his glass with a grunt of dissatisfac 
 tion, and turns to Billings. " None of those cartridges 
 get through here thi& day anyhow ; but how many do 
 
 you suppose Mr. has sent up there already ?" And 
 
 he points as he speaks to the far northwest. 
 
 Under that blue dome, cloudless, glaring ; under the 
 sentinel peaks of the Big Horn shimmering there in 
 the distance, over the rolling divide in that glorious 
 upland that heaves and rolls and tosses between the 
 Rosebud and the swirling stream in the broad valley 
 farther west, another regiment that of which we spoke, 
 whose leader is famed in song and story is riding 
 rapidly this still Sunday morning in search of Mr. 
 's cartridges. Some say the tall, blue-eyed, blond- 
 bearded captain who leads that beautiful troop of bays 
 
 is Mr. 's brother. Odd ! yet how can the Indian 
 
 Bureau know that Crazy Horse and Two Bears and 
 
 Kicking Mule want to buy Mr. 's bullets to kill 
 
 his brother with? How, indeed, should Mr.
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 155 
 
 know? Army officers, 'tis true, have warned them 
 time and again; but when were army officers' state 
 ments ever potent in the Interior Department against 
 the unendorsed assertion of Crazy Horse or Kicking 
 Mule that he only wanted to kill buffalo ? Indeed, 
 is riot Mr. himself eager to go bail for the pur 
 chaser, since his profits are so high ? Over the divide, 
 hot on the broad, beaten trail goes the long column. 
 How different are they from our sombre friends of the 
 th, who, miles and marches away to the southeast, are 
 dismounting and unsaddling under the cottonwoods ! 
 Years in Arizona have robbed the latter of all the old 
 love for the pomp and panoply of war. There is not 
 a bit of finery in the command, there is hardly a ves 
 tige of uniform ; but look here, look here at the bril 
 liance of the Seventh. Bright guidons flutter at the 
 head of every troop ; bright chevrons, stripes, and but 
 tons gleam on the dress of many an officer and man ; 
 the steeds, though worn and jaded with an almost 
 ceaseless trot of thirty-six hours, are spirited and beau 
 tiful ; some are gayly decked. Foremost rides their 
 tried leader, clad from head to foot in beaded buck 
 skin. " The Long Hair" the Sioux still call him, 
 though now the long hair waves not on the breeze, and 
 an auburn beard conceals the handsome outline of the 
 face all troopers know so well. Near him rides his 
 adjutant, dressed like himself in their favorite buck 
 skin, so too are others among the officers, though 
 many wear the jaunty fatigue uniform of the cavalry, 
 and the rank and file are all, or nearly all, in blue. 
 But a short way back they have come upon the scaf 
 folding sepulchre of Indian warriors lately slain in
 
 156 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 battle ; but a few miles ahead they see a broad valley 
 from which, far from south to north, a vast dust-cloud 
 is rising, and for this there can be but one explanation, 
 thousands of Indian ponies in excited motion. Ay, 
 scouts in advance already sight indications of the near 
 presence of a great Indian community, and the column 
 resolves itself into three, trotting in parallel lines across 
 the treeless upland a mile or so apart. With the north 
 ernmost, the largest, rides now the leader of all, while 
 between them gallop couriers carrying rapid orders. 
 Every face sets eagerly westward. Every heart beats 
 high with the thrill of coming battle. Some there are 
 who note the immensity of the dust-cloud, who reason 
 silently that for miles and miles the valley before them 
 is covered by the scurrying herds ; ten thousand ponies 
 at least must there be to stir up such a volume ; then, 
 how many warriors are there to meet these seven hun 
 dred ? No matter what one thinks, not a man falters. 
 Far to the south the snow peaks glisten over the 
 pine-crested range of the Big Horn. Nearer at hand 
 deep, dark caflons burrow in towards the bowels of the 
 mountains. Then from their bases leap the rolling 
 foot-hills, brown and bare but for the dense growth of 
 the sun-cured buffalo-grass. Westward, open and un 
 dulating sweeps the broad expanse of almost level 
 valley beyond the bluffs, close under which is curling 
 the fatal stream, the " Greasy Grass" of the Dakotas. 
 Far to the north in the same endless waves the prairie 
 rolls to the horizon, beyond which lies the shallow river 
 where the transports are toiling up-stream with com 
 rade holdiery. Behind the. column, eastward, dip the 
 sheltered valleys of the Rosebud and the breaks of the
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 157 
 
 Tongue among the Cheetish Mountains; and there, 
 not fifty miles away as the crow flies, the soldiers of 
 the Gray Fox, over two thousand strong, are camped, 
 awaiting reinforcements before renewing the attempt to 
 advance upon these lurking bands of Sitting Bull. Not 
 two days' march away, on both flanks, are four times 
 his numbers in friends and allies ; not two miles away, 
 in his front, are ten times his force in foemen, savage, 
 but skilled ; yet all alone and unsupported, the Long 
 Hair rides dauntlessly to the attack, even though he 
 and his well know it must be battle to the death, for 
 Indian warfare knows no mercy. 
 
 There be those who say the assault was rash ; the 
 speed unauthorized ; the whole effort mad as Lucan's 
 launch of the Light Brigade at Balaclava; but once 
 there in view of the fatal valley, the sight is one to fire 
 the brain of any trooper. Galloping to a little mound 
 to the right front, the broad expanse lies before the 
 leader's eyes, and far as he can see, out to the west and 
 northwest, the dust-cloud rises heavily over the prairie ; 
 here and there, nearer at hand, are the scurrying ponies 
 and, close down by the stream, excited bands of Indians 
 tearing down lodge after lodge and preparing for rapid 
 flight. But one conclusion can he draw. They are 
 panic-stricken, stampeded. They are "on the run" 
 already, and unless attacked at once can never be over 
 hauled. They will scatter over the face of the wild 
 Northwest in an hour's time. He cannot see what we 
 know so well to-day : that only the northern limits of 
 the great villages are open to his gaze ; that the shelter 
 ing bluffs hide from him all the crowded lodges of the 
 bands farthest to the south, and that while squaws and 
 
 H
 
 158 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 children are indeed being hurried off to the west, hun- 
 dreds, thousands of exultant young warriors are gallop 
 ing in from the western prairies, herding the war-ponies 
 before them. He cannot see the scores that, rifle in 
 hand, are rushing into the willows and cottonwoods 
 along the stream, eager and ready to welcome his com 
 ing ; he sends hurried orders to the leaders of the little 
 columns on his left : " Push ahead ; cross the stream ; gal 
 lop northward when you reach the western bank, and 
 attack that end of the village while I strike from the 
 east." He never dreams that behind that solid curtain 
 of bluff Ogallalla, Sans Arc, Uncapapa, and Blackfoot 
 lurk in myriads. " The biggest Indian village on the 
 continent !" they say, he shouts to the nearest column ; 
 but only the northern limits of it could he see. Far, 
 far away in the East the church-bells are ringing out 
 their glad welcome to the God-given day of rest. 
 Mothers, sisters, wives, lift up a prayer for the loved 
 ones on the savage frontier. Aloft the sun in cloudless 
 splendor looks down on all. Westward press the com 
 rade columns, until, reaching the head of a shallow 
 ravine that leads northwestward towards the stream, 
 the Long Hair spurs to the front, Oh, those beautiful 
 Kentucky sorrels ! Oh, those gallant, loyal hearts ! 
 and the eager, bearded faces, the erect, athletic forms, 
 the fluttering guidons, one by one are lost to view as 
 they wind away down the coulee ; one by one they dis 
 appear from sight, from hearing, of the comrades now 
 trotting down the bluffs to the west. Take the last 
 look upon them, fellows, five fated companies. Obedi 
 ent to their leader's order, loyal, steadfast, unmurmur 
 ing to the bitter end, they vanish once and for all from
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 159 
 
 loving eyes. Only as gashed, lifeless, mutilated forms 
 will we ever see them again. 
 
 Who has not read the story of the Little Horn? 
 Why repeat it here ? Who that was there will ever 
 forget the sight that burst upon the astonished eyes of 
 Reno's men when, breaking through the willows along 
 the stream and reaching the level bench, they saw, not 
 five miles away to the north, as was the first idea, but 
 here in their very front, only long rifle-shot away, the 
 southern outskirts of the great Indian metropolis that 
 stretched away for miles to the north. God of battles ! 
 was this a position, was this a force to be assailed by 
 one regiment ? Why linger over it ? the half-hearted 
 advance of the dismounted skirmish line ; the hesitat 
 ing rally ; then the volley from the willows ; the flank 
 ing warriors on the west ; the sudden consciousness of 
 their pitiful numbers as against the hordes now swarm 
 ing upon them ; the mad rush for the bluffs, with the 
 yelling Indians dragging the rearmost from their steeds 
 and butchering them as they rode; the Henrys and 
 Winchesters pumping their bullets into the fleeing mass ; 
 the plunge into the seething waters ; the panting 
 scramble up the steep and slippery banks ; the breath 
 less halt at the crest, and then, then the backward 
 glance at the field and the fallen. Who will forget 
 Mclntosh, striving to rally the rearmost, dragged from 
 the saddle and hacked to death upon the sward ? Who 
 will forget Benny Hodgson's brave young face, the 
 pet, the pride of the whole regiment ? Even the dar 
 ing and devotion of his men could not save him from 
 the hissing lead of those savage marksmen. Then the 
 strained suspense, the half-hour's listening to the fierce,
 
 160 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 the awful volleying to the north that told of a fearful 
 struggle. The flutter of hope that it might be the 
 stronger battalion fighting its way through to the relief 
 of theirs, the weak one ; the blank faces that gazed one 
 into another with awe-stricken inquiry as trumpet blare 
 and rallying shout and rattling volley receded, not ap 
 proached ; died away, not thundered anew in coming 
 triumph ; the pall of certainty that fell on every man 
 when silence so soon reigned in the distance, and pan 
 demonium broke out afresh around them. Back from 
 their bloody work, drunk with blood and victory, came 
 by thousands the savage warriors to swell the forces 
 that had driven the white soldiers to -cover. Up, thank 
 God ! not an instant too soon, came the comrades from 
 the distant left, and Benteen and MacDougall riding in 
 with four full companies and the needed ammunition 
 gave them strength to hold out. Through the hours 
 of fierce battle that followed, through that dread " run 
 ning the gauntlet" for water that the wounded craved, 
 through the stern suspense and strain of the day and 
 night that intervened before the rescuing forces of Terry 
 came cautiously up the valley, and the Sioux melted 
 away before them, ah ! how many a time was the 
 question asked, " What can have become of Ouster ?" 
 
 Far, far to the east this still Sabbath afternoon, 
 seeking shelter from the glare of the same blazing sun, 
 seeking sympathy from each other's words, seeking hope 
 and comfort from Him who alone can aid, a little group 
 of women gather at the frontier fort on the banks of 
 the Missouri. They are the wives of the officers who 
 that morning ride " into the Valley of Death" with 
 their soldier leader. Fair young matrons and mothers,
 
 A JUNE SUNDAY. 161 
 
 whose thoughts have little room for tue giad jubilee in 
 the still more distant East, whose world is with that 
 charging column. Only a few days since there came 
 to them the evil news that the Indians had forced back 
 the soldiers of the southern Department, that meant 
 harder work, fiercer fighting for their own. And this 
 dread anxiety it is that clusters them here, lifting up 
 sweet voices in their hymn of praise to the Heavenly 
 Throne, pleading, pleading for the life and safety of 
 those who are their all in all. Oh, God ! there is 
 prophecy in the very words of their mournful song, 
 though they know it not. Pitying Father, listen, and 
 be merciful. 
 
 " E'en though it be a Cross 
 That raiseth me." 
 
 Vain the trembling hope, vain the tearful pleading. 
 Far out on the slopes of the Little Horn those for 
 whom these prayers are lifted have fought their last 
 battle. God has, indeed, asked of these women that 
 henceforth " they walk on in the shadow and alone."
 
 162 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 
 
 THE glorious Fourth has come and gone. The 
 Centennial anniversary has had its completed category 
 of parade and picnic ; speech and song ; fun and fire 
 works. The thronging cities of the East have rejoiced 
 with unusual enthusiasm, especially Philadelphia, whose 
 coffers are plethoric with the tribute of visiting thou 
 sands. Out on the frontier we have celebrated with 
 modified 6clat, since" the national celebrants are mostly 
 absent on active service, and have no blank cartridges 
 to dispose of. The big garrison flags have been duly 
 hoisted and saluted. The troops have been paraded 
 where there were any to parade, as only a few infantry 
 men remain to take care of the forts and the families. 
 The Declaration of Independence has been read in one 
 or two of the bigger posts, where enough remains of 
 defenders to make up a fair-sized demonstration. One 
 of these is far up on the Missouri, where the cavalry 
 ladies are all invited to hear the infantry orator of the 
 day and go. No news has come for some time from 
 husbands and lovers on the war-path, and it is best to 
 be hopeful and cheery. They make a lovely picture, a 
 dozen of them in their dainty white dresses, their smil 
 ing faces, their fluttering fans and ribbons. They ap 
 plaud each telling point with encouraging bravos and 
 the clapping of pretty hands. How free from care,
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 163 
 
 how joyous, how luxurious is army life ! How gleeful 
 is their silvery laughter ! How beaming the smiles 
 with which they reward the young gallant who comes 
 among them for their congratulations ! Vanitas, vani- 
 tatum ! They are nearly all widowed, poor girls, but 
 they don't know it not yet. The steamer laden with 
 the wounded and the fell tidings of disaster is but a 
 few hours away. Before the breaking of another day 
 there will be none to smile in all their number. Verily, 
 " In the midst of life we are in death." 
 
 And Russell, too, has had its jubilee on a more 
 extensive scale, for here are "Webb and Truscott with 
 their fine troops of horse, the band, the infantry com 
 panies, and a brace of old howitzers, with which they 
 make the welkin ring. No tidings of any account have 
 come from the front. The Gray Fox is puzzled at the 
 situation. The Indians are out there somewhere, as he 
 finds every time a scout goes forth, but they appear to 
 be engrossed in some big council over at the Greasy 
 Grass. One thing is certain, he can get no word 
 through to Terry on the Yellowstone, and he cannot 
 afford another tussle with such force as they show when 
 he does come out. The th is still down near the 
 Black Hills. Busy ? Oh, yes. Busy is no word for 
 it ! They are scampering all over the south Cheyenne 
 country after small bands of Indians, whose fleet ponies 
 keep them just out of range of the carbines and just 
 out of reach of the horses, who, grain-fed all winter, 
 are now losing speed, strength, and bottom on the scant 
 and wiry grass they find in the sandy valleys. Trus 
 cott and Webb are eager to go forward, but orders say 
 wait. Mrs. Truscott is again almost in heaven. Jack
 
 164 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 has been with her nearly a fortnight. They are domi 
 ciled in their new quarters. Mrs. Stannard is their 
 next-door neighbor ; much of their furniture has come, 
 and the army home is beginning to look lovely. Mrs. 
 "Whaling and Mrs. Turner can never see enough of it, 
 or say enough. 
 
 Large numbers of recruits have been sent to the post 
 to be drilled and forwarded to the cavalry at the front. 
 They are having riding-school all hours of the day, and 
 the cavalry officers are in saddle from morn till night 
 teaching them. Mr. Gleason is assiduous in this duty. 
 "Whatever Captain Truscott has heard to the gentle 
 man's discredit in the past, he admits to himself that it 
 has prepared him for agreeable disappointment. No 
 lieutenant could be more attentive or subordinate, more 
 determined to please. Captain Truscott cannot but 
 wish that Mr. Gleason were less attentive to Miss San- 
 ford, but that young lady is evidently fully able to keep 
 him at a very pleasant distance. It excites the captain's 
 admiration to see how perfectly lady-like, how really 
 gracious is her manner to the aspiring widower, and 
 yet how serenely unencouraging. No one understood 
 this better than Mr. Gleason himself. Finding her 
 deeper, less impressionable than he at first supposed, he 
 simply changed his tactics. He avoided the store, he 
 shunned conversations on dangerous topics, he cultivated 
 the society of Colonel Whaling, and deeply impressed 
 that veteran with the depth of his information on dogs, 
 horses, and military affairs. He dexterously lost small 
 sums to the post commander at pool and billiards; 
 enough to keep the old gentleman in cigars and good- 
 humor. He became "serious" in his conversation with
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 
 
 the colonel's amiable wife, whose exemplary habit it 
 was to be always found seated at a little table behind a 
 very big Bible when visitors called ; though the garri 
 son did say, as garrisons will, that occasionally they 
 had to knock or ring half a dozen times before the 
 summons could be heard ; not because the good lady 
 was so deeply plunged in religious meditation, but be 
 cause the clatter of angry tongues made all demonstra 
 tion from without simply inaudible. 
 
 The long-suffering and short-serving domestics who 
 successively reigned in the Whaling kitchen and cham 
 bers were wont to say that it was nag and scold from 
 morn till dewy eve, sometimes later, and that in 
 the midst of wrathful tirade the lady of the house 
 would only be brought to instant silence by the an 
 nouncement of " some one at the door." A certain 
 Miss Finnegan, who served a brief apprenticeship in 
 the household, acquired lasting fame in the garrison 
 for the mimetic power which enabled her to portray 
 "Mrs. Gineral's" instantaneous change from a posture 
 of fury to one of rapt devotion. She could look like 
 Hecate Hibernicized, and in one comprehensive second 
 drop into a chair, "smooth her wrinkled front" and 
 side curls, shake out her rumpled draperies, and rise' 
 from an instant's searching of the Scriptures with 
 features expressive of the very acme of Christian peace 
 and benediction. " Mrs. General" was a pet-name the 
 lady had won from a wifely and lovable trait that 
 prompted her to aggrandize her placid lord above his 
 deserts. Him she ever addressed (in public), and of 
 him she ever spoke, as " the general," irrespective of 
 the fact that the rank was one he never had or never
 
 166 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 would attain, even by brevet, for the Senate drew the 
 line at the man who had been in the army through 
 three wars and never heard a hostile bullet whistle. 
 His regiment had not been required in the Florida 
 business. He himself was put on other duty when 
 they went to Mexico, and, finally, in the great war of 
 the Rebellion, there was constant need of regulars to 
 act as mustering and disbursing officers at the rear. 
 Such had been old Whaling's career, and, so long as 
 he himself was utterly unpretentious, never claimed 
 to have done any war service, and was content to drift 
 along and draw his pay, nobody would have said 
 much in detraction had it not been for his wife's per 
 sistent pushing. He was merely second in command 
 of his regiment, but the lady spoke of him as " the 
 general" on all occasions, and alluded to his immediate 
 superior, who had led corps and divisions in his day, 
 as Colonel Starr. Others of equal rank and with 
 the brevets of major-generals she similarly belittled. 
 They were merely field-officers. She admitted the ex 
 istence of no greater man than " the general," her hus 
 band, and whatever might be the sorrows of other 
 parents with their children, or housewives with their 
 servants, Mrs. Whaling pitied, even condoled, but 
 could not sympathize. With uplifted eyes she would 
 thank the Giver of all good that He had blessed her 
 with sous so noble and distinguished, with daughters 
 so lovely and so dutiful, with servants so singularly 
 devoted. In the various garrisons in which the good 
 lady had flourished, what mattered it that her boys were 
 known to be graceless young scamps whom cudgelling 
 could not benefit, or that her gentle daughters squab-
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 
 
 bled like cats and flew to the neighbors to spread the 
 tales of their wrongs and mamma's injustice? What 
 mattered it that her paragons of servants left her one 
 after another and swore they couldn't stay in a house 
 where there was so much spying and fault-finding? 
 There was no shaking Mrs. Whaling's Christian deter 
 mination to run with patience the race thus set before 
 her. 
 
 Gleason found in converse with her so much that 
 reminded him of the mother he had lost, alas ! so 
 many years ago, and Mrs. Whaling welcomed him to 
 the consolations of her sanctified spirit. Together they 
 deplored the frivolity and vices of the younger officers 
 (Ray came in for a good showing-up just there, no 
 doubt), and together they projected the reformation of 
 some of her favorites in the garrison. A wise man 
 was Gleason. She and her meek and lowly husband 
 could be useful very useful in time of need. And 
 did he abandon his devotions to Miss Sanford ? No, 
 indeed ! but they were modified as became the subject. 
 He called less frequently ; he became less personal, less 
 aggressive in his talk ; he had naught but good, or 
 silence, for his comrades, and charity for the world. 
 He threw into his every look and word a deference and 
 a respect that made his manner proof against criticism ; 
 and yet, one and all, they could not welcome him. 
 Truscott, his captain, had never yet dropped the " Mr." 
 before the surname' of his subaltern, that well-under 
 stood barrier to all army intimacy, and Gleason, who 
 stood among the very first on the lineal list of lieuten 
 ants, hated him for the restriction, but gave no sign. 
 
 It was necessary that some one of the cavalry officers
 
 J68 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 should be placed in charge of the newly-arrived recruits, 
 and this duty fell to Gleason's lot. It relieved him 
 from service with his troop and made him independent 
 of his captain. Webb and Truscott, if consulted, 
 would have named a far better instructor among their 
 lieutenants, but Colonel Whaling issued the order from 
 post headquarters, and there was nothing for it but 
 obey. Gleason lent his best efforts to the work, and 
 he and his drill sergeants were ceaseless in their squad 
 instruction. Several old cavalrymen had come among 
 the dozens of green hands, so had a small squad trans 
 ferred by War Department orders from West Point. 
 Among these men were competent drill-masters, and 
 among the drill-masters the most active and efficient 
 was the Saxon soldier, Sergeant Wolf. 
 
 Mr. Gleason had invited the ladies to walk out on 
 the prairie east of the post one lovely morning late in 
 June, that they might see the skirmish drills of the 
 two cavalry troops. Often as she had been a spectator 
 before, Mrs. Truscott never tired of watching Jack and 
 his men, and Miss Sanford was greatly interested at all 
 times in the martial exercises, especially the mounted. 
 Strolling homeward about ten o'clock, having been 
 joined by one of the young infantry officers, Mr. Glea 
 son suggested their stopping at the store and refreshing 
 themselves with a lemonade. Miss Sanford would have 
 declined with thanks, but silently waited for her hostess 
 to speak; and Mrs. Truscott, who remembered how 
 papa had sometimes called her into the club-room when 
 she was a child, and who knew that the garrison ladies 
 frequently accepted such invitations, hesitatingly as 
 sented. It must be confessed that Mrs. Truscott some-
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 169 
 
 times acted before she thought, and this was one of the 
 times. Truscott himself rarely, if ever, entered the 
 club-room, and had never thought it necessary to say 
 anything to his wife on the subject. The door stood 
 invitingly open ; the attendant was lolling thereat in 
 his shirt-sleeves admiringly scanning the approaching 
 group. As soon as he saw they were heading for the 
 club-room instead of the gate, he slipped behind the 
 bar and put on his coat. Miss Sanford hung back as 
 Mr. Gleason threw open the portals, and called out en 
 couragingly, 
 
 " Come right in, ladies ; there's no one here but the 
 bar-keeper." 
 
 Mrs. Truscott stepped lightly ever the threshold, and 
 glanced with smiling curiosity around. The first thing 
 that caught her eye was a placard hanging at the en 
 trance of a little alcove-like space beyond the rusty old 
 billiard-tables. Within were two or three green baize- 
 covered card-tables and rude wooden chairs. On the 
 placard, roughly stencilled, was the legend, 
 
 " He who enters here leaves soap behind." 
 
 Mrs. Truscott's eyes expressed wonderment and mirth 
 commingled. 
 
 " How utterly absurd ! Who did that, Mr. Gleason ?" 
 
 " That? Oh ! That's some of Blake's work, I be 
 lieve ! Ah are you not coming in, Miss Sanford ?" 
 
 " Thanks, no, Mr. Gleason ; I believe I'll wait here," 
 was the reply, pleasant but decided. 
 
 " Why, Marion ! Do come in !" cried Mrs. Truscott, 
 hastening to the door. 
 
 H 15
 
 170 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Miss Sanford's face was flushing slightly, but her 
 voice was gentle as usual. 
 
 " I'll wait for you, Grace ; but I do not care for a 
 lemonade, and would rather not go in." 
 
 " Indeed, I don't care for one either. I only said yes 
 because I thought, perhaps, you would like it or would 
 care to see the club-room," Mrs. Truscott protested, as 
 she hurriedly came forth. " We are just as much 
 obliged to you, Mr. Gleason, but not to-day." And 
 with that they resumed their homeward stroll. Once 
 through the gate Mr. Gleason slackened the pace, so as 
 to detain his fair companion a moment. 
 
 " Why would you decline my invitation ?" he asked, 
 in a tone of what was -intended to be tender reproach. 
 
 "I prefer not to visit the club-room, as I believe 
 it is called." 
 
 " You would soon get used to it if you were in the 
 Army," he ventured awkwardly. 
 
 "But I am not in the Army," she began, self-re- 
 strainedly enough ; then, as though she could not re 
 press the words, " Nor would I be if, as you say, I had 
 to get used to that." 
 
 She has a temper then, quoth Gleason to himself, 
 ruefully noting that he had made a bad move. It gave 
 him an opportunity of putting in what was generally 
 considered a pretty effective piece of work, however, 
 one that had been often employed on somewhat similar 
 occasions, and will be again. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Sanford, were there more women like 
 you, there would be fewer places like that." 
 
 But to this she made no reply whatsoever. If any 
 thing, its eifect was to quicken her pace.
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 
 
 Arriving near their quarters, a small party of enlisted 
 men, apparently recruits, were observed clustered about 
 a wagon loaded with boxes. A spruce, handsome, 
 blond-moustached young soldier stepped suddenly into 
 view from behind the wagon, where he had been super 
 intending the unloading of some of the goods. At 
 sight of him Miss Sanford stopped short. Looking 
 wonderingly at her, Mr. Gleason saw that her face 
 had paled, and that she was gazing intently on the 
 approaching soldier and on Mrs. Truscott, who, ab 
 sorbed in laughing talk with her escort, had appar 
 ently not observed him. As he halted and saluted, 
 Mr. Gleason could not but note that she started, then 
 that she had flushed crimson. He glanced quickly 
 from one to the other, the pale girl by his side, the 
 startled young matron in front, and the statuesque 
 soldier, respectfully standing with his hand at the cap 
 visor. 
 
 " Pardon, madame ; the quartermaster sends me to 
 unload these boxes at Captain Truscott's quarters, if 
 madame will designate the room to which they shall be 
 carried." 
 
 " The captain will be here in a moment," she replied, 
 hurriedly, and moving into the gate as though eager to 
 avoid the very presence of the soldier. " Oh ! may I 
 ask you in, gentlemen ?" she added, glancing over her 
 shoulder, and still evidently discomposed. 
 
 And Gleason followed. 
 
 The parlor was cool and pleasant after the hot sun 
 shine without. Mrs. Truscott threw herself into a 
 chair, then rose as hastily and went into the dining- 
 room beyond. Miss Sanford's eyes followed her anx-
 
 172 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 iously as she stood at the sideboard pouring out a glass 
 of water. 
 
 "That man er "Wolf, who came with this batch 
 of recruits, tells me he was first sergeant of Captain 
 Truscott's troop at the Point," he said, tentatively. 
 
 " Yes. When did he get here, or how ?" 
 
 " He came with recruits two nights ago ; transferred 
 from West Point with some other men on the captain's 
 application, as I understand it. I presume he is to be 
 assigned to our troop." 
 
 And here the clatter of hoofs outside announced the 
 captain's return from drill, and Gleason soon took his 
 leave, pondering over what he had seen. What was 
 the secret of Mrs. Truscott's evident uneasiness, if not 
 agitation ? what of Miss Sanford's visible annoyance ? 
 
 It was very late that night when Miss Sanford sought 
 her room. There had been a drive to town during the 
 afternoon, and a pleasant dance at the hop-room after 
 wards. Not once had she had an opportunity of speak 
 ing alone with Mrs. Truscott, nor was she quite certain 
 of what she wished to say even had the opportunity 
 occurred. For several days previous to their start from 
 the Point, Sergeant Wolf, with others of the cavalry 
 detachment, had been constantly at the house packing 
 goods and furniture. Nothing could exceed the punc 
 tilious distance and respect with which he addressed the 
 ladies whenever occasion required that he should speak 
 to them at all ; but Miss Sanford could not forget his 
 mysterious conduct the night she discovered him at the 
 front gate. Once she spoke with half-laughing hesi 
 tancy of the assiduity with which the sergeant devoted 
 all his spare time to his captain's service, or to madame's,
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 173 
 
 and Grace had looked so annoyed that she ceased fur 
 ther mention of him. She wanted to tell her of his 
 being at the gate that night, and his going around under 
 the library-window, but it proved a difficult thing, and 
 she postponed it from day to day. Then came the 
 sudden departure of the sergeant and his party for New 
 York, where they were ordered to report at a recruiting 
 rendezvous. Believing that they had seen the last of 
 him she breathed freer, and decided to keep the story 
 of his midnight visit to herself, at least for a. time ; and 
 now here he was again, and his coming had evidently 
 startled her friend. She wanted, above all things, to 
 have a frank talk with Mrs. Truscott. This keeping a 
 secret from her was distressing, and she could not bear 
 the thought of a possible cloud or misunderstanding 
 between them, but poor Grace had totally forgotten the 
 existence of such a person as Wolf by the time they 
 got home. She was having a little trouble of her own. 
 They were strolling across the parade in the brilliant 
 moonlight, Grace on her stalwart husband's arm, look 
 ing up in his face with all her soul in her eyes, chatting 
 merrily over the events of the day. Miss Sanford was 
 amiably listening to the dissertation of an infantry 
 friend upon astronomical matters, while Gleason was 
 elsewhere escorting Mrs. Whaling. At the door Trus 
 cott looked back and hospitably invited the young 
 officer to enter, but the latter doffed his cap and gal 
 lantly said something to the effect that all who entered 
 left their hearts behind, and took himself off with the 
 conviction that he had made a glowing impression. It 
 reminded Mrs. Truscott of the stencil inscription over 
 the local Inferno. 
 
 15*
 
 174 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! Have you seen Mr. Blake's latest ab 
 surdity, that slangy paraphrase of Dante at the club- 
 room ?" 
 
 " I heard of it," said Truscott, smilingly. " Who 
 told you of it, Queenie?" 
 
 " Why ! I saw it to-day," she replied, as though 
 suddenly conscious that she had put her foot on forbid 
 den ground. Then,, as he said nothing whatever, she 
 went on in anxious explanation : " Mr. Gleason asked 
 us in to have a lemonade on our way from drill. You 
 know the ladies often go, Jack." 
 
 " I know some of them do, Gracie." 
 
 " Ought we not to have gone I mean, ought I not 
 to have gone ? for Marion would not. Indeed, Jack, 
 the moment I saw she had not come in I left at once. 
 Was it are you vexed ?" 
 
 "There's no great harm done, dear. I had not 
 thought to warn you against it, though I knew the 
 others some of them, went there at times." . 
 
 " You mean you had not supposed it would be neces 
 sary, Jack." 
 
 And so, it must be admitted, he had ; and poor 
 Grace was in the depths as a natural consequence. It 
 was the first time she had felt that he was disappointed 
 in her, and though the matter was trivial and his loving 
 kiss and caress reassured her, she was plunged in dis 
 may to think that in entering the club-room with Mr. 
 Gleason she had done what he disapproved of, what, 
 as a woman of refined breeding, she should have 
 shunned, and what Marion had declined. She was 
 too much a woman not to feel that therein lay an addi 
 tional sting ; she was too gentle and loving a wife not
 
 THE WOLF AND THE SHEEPFOLD. 175 
 
 to feel forlorn at thought of having disappointed Jack. 
 Some women would have resented the idea of his ob 
 jecting to such a thing. (No, fair reader, of course I 
 don't mean you ; but is it not just possible I may be 
 right in saying so of Mrs. next door ?) 
 
 Grace had kissed her friend good-night just a wee 
 bit less affectionately than usual, and Marion well knew 
 that husband and wife were best left alone together, as 
 the surest and speediest way of settling the affair. She, 
 therefore, went to her room. 
 
 There were only two rooms up-stairs in the little 
 army house, each with its big closet, a door connecting 
 the two, and others opening out on the narrow landing 
 above the stairs ; each with its sharply sloping roof 
 and dormer-window. Grace had insisted on her guest's 
 taking the front room, looking out on the parade as she 
 had at the Point ; but after much laughing discussion 
 they settled it by pulling straws, as many a question 
 had been decided in the old school days. This reversed 
 the assignment, and the rear room became Miss San- 
 ford's. The view from the window was not attractive. 
 Immediately beneath was the shingle roofing of the 
 dining-room and kitchen annex, stretching out to the 
 servants' rooms and sheds beyond. The yard, like all 
 its fellows, was bare and brown, for nothing would 
 grow on such a soil. Rough, unpainted wooden fences 
 separated them one from another; rough cow-sheds, 
 coal-sheds, or wood-sheds were braced up against the 
 fences, and back of all the yards along the row ran a 
 high rickety barrier of boards, as rough and unprepos 
 sessing as the others. Beyond this fence lay a triangular 
 space of open prairie ornamented only by ash-barrels
 
 176 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and occasional heaps of empty cans awaiting the coming 
 of the " police cart." Beyond this space stood the big 
 brown hospital on the north ; the back-yards of the 
 surgeon's and sutler's quarters on the east ; while the 
 hypothenuse of the right-angled triangle thus limited 
 was the unsightly fence that bounded the back-yards 
 of officers' row. Mr. Dick Swiveller's delightful view 
 " of over the way" was a gem of landscape in compar 
 ison. 
 
 But for such gloomy outlook Miss Sanford had little 
 thought. She went to the window to draw the curtain, 
 and far out across the distant prairie slopes, where she 
 could see them at all, the moon was throwing her sil 
 very beams, while closer at hand broad, irregular wastes 
 of blackness sailed over the dry plateau as the clouds 
 that caused them drifted across the dazzling face. 
 Harsh and unlovely as were the surroundings by day, 
 they lost something of their asperity under the soften 
 ing shimmer of that mystic light. Far down by the 
 stables she could hear the ringing watch-call of the 
 sentries proclaiming half-past twelve o'clock and all 
 well, and then and then as a cloud floated away and 
 the bright beams poured down in unhindered radiance, 
 she became aware of a form enveloped in a cavalry 
 overcoat standing in the corner of the fence. She 
 could see the moonlight glinting on the polished insig 
 nia, the crossed sabres, on the front of his forage 
 cap, and though she could not see the face, she knew it 
 was that of Sergeant Wolf. 
 
 Captain and Mrs. Truscott were still below. She could 
 hear them putting out the parlor lamps and locking the 
 doors. She could hear a quick footstep on the hard-
 
 A SERENADE. 
 
 beaten walk in front and the clink of a Scabbard, and 
 knew it must be the officer of the day starting out to 
 make his rounds. So too, apparently, did the myste 
 rious prowler in the back-yard. He stepped quickly out 
 of the enclosure, and the next instant she could see the 
 erect, soldierly figure moving rapidly away towards the 
 northwestern entrance of the post, where lay the band's 
 quarters. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A SERENADE. 
 
 " NEWS from Mr. Ray !" exclaimed Mrs. Stannard, 
 as she came in all smiles and sunshine the morning 
 after the Fourth. " Just think of it, Captain Truscott ! 
 the major says they were all wondering when they could 
 hope to get letters from home, when who should come 
 trotting into camp but Ray with a bagful. He found 
 a couple of men at Laramie who had been left behind 
 when the regiment went through, and the three of 
 them slipped off together, and by riding all night 
 managed to escape the Indians. Did you ever know 
 such a reckless fellow ?" 
 
 Truscott shook his head. " I wish Ray would be 
 more prudent. If there were any occasion for such a 
 risk 'twould be a different thing " 
 
 "But there was," said Mrs. Stannard, promptly. 
 " The commanding officer at Laramie had received im-
 
 178 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 portant orders for the th by telegraph, and he didn't 
 know how to get them through. No scouts or runners 
 were in. Ray got there the evening before, and the 
 moment he heard of it he went right to the colonel and 
 begged to be allowed to go. It seems that trouble is 
 expected at the agency," she continued. " The major 
 sends just a few lines to say they expect to leave the 
 Cheyenne valley and go right in there. The pickets 
 have chased Indians coming from the northwest, run 
 ners from Sitting Bull, they say, and the officers do 
 not like the looks of things." 
 
 Truscott's face was very grave but his manner was 
 unchanged. Mrs. Grace and her friend had risen from 
 the breakfast-table to welcome their ex-hostess and 
 valued neighbor, and the three ladies looked as though 
 news from the front brought far more of anxiety than 
 comfort. Before anything further was said there came 
 a light tap at the door, and Mrs. Turner fluttered in, 
 bewitchingly pretty in her white muslin, with bright- 
 colored ribbons. There were ill-natured people who 
 observed at times of Mrs. Turner that she took far 
 more pains with her dress when the captain was away 
 on campaign and " the doughboys" were running the 
 garrison, than she did when her liege lord was at home. 
 Of this we cannot speak advisedly. Certain it is that 
 on this particularly bright, glorious sunshiny morning 
 of the fifth of July in the Centennial year, Mrs. Tur 
 ner was most becomingly attired. 
 
 " I wouldn't have intruded at so unconventional an 
 hour only I saw Mrs. Stannard come running in ; I 
 knew she had a letter, and so had I. Isn't .it horrid? 
 Captain Turner says it looks as though they might be
 
 A SERENADE. 179 
 
 out all summer ! Oh, Miss Sanford ! I'm so glad you 
 are dressed and ready, for the ambulance is coming 
 around now, and I know you and Mrs. Truscott want 
 to go in this morning and see Mrs. Wing's new goods. 
 She opened yesterday, you know, and Mrs. Wilkins 
 says all the bonnets are fresh from New York and 
 lovely. You will go, won't you ? Come just as you 
 are. You'll only need a light wrap, for the sun is very 
 warm." 
 
 "Why is it that when one woman knows herself to be 
 tastefully and becomingly dressed, she is so eager to 
 assure others who are to accompany her that they need 
 nothing by way of adornment? The ambulance was 
 at the door. The visit to town had been contemplated 
 for two or three days, so matters were quickly arranged. 
 There was abundant room, and Mrs. Stannard decided 
 to go too. 
 
 In a few minutes half a dozen ladies in their airy 
 summer costumes were gathered around the Concord 
 wagon, ordinarily referred to as " the ambulance." Mr. 
 Gleason was promptly on hand with other officers to 
 assist; the band was just marching away towards its 
 quarters, when Miss Sanford's quick eye was attracted 
 by the sight of some evident commotion at the adju 
 tant's office at the west end ; one soldier was running 
 at full speed in pursuit of the old and new officers of 
 the day, who were descending the slope to the creek 
 valley, another soldier the commanding officer's or 
 derly came running down the road towards the party. 
 
 She was already seated, as were most of the others. 
 Mrs. Turner sprang lightly in, and coquettishly kissed 
 her hand to the group of officers on the walk.
 
 180 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Go on, driver," she said. 
 
 "One moment, Mrs. Turner; please wait. I think 
 something is the matter. Look !" 
 
 And Miss Sanford pointed to the running men. All 
 eyes were instantly fixed on the orderly. He came up, 
 well nigh breathless. 
 
 " Captain Truscott ! gentlemen ! The commanding 
 officer's compliments, and desires to see all the officers 
 at once." 
 
 The group started at the instant. Truscott turned 
 and held out his hands to his wife. 
 
 With the quick intuition of a woman accustomed to 
 " war's alarms," she felt that evil tidings had come, and 
 was already starting to leave the carriage. 
 
 " Oh ! what can it be ?" almost wailed Mrs. Turner. 
 " Do you know, orderly ?" 
 
 " It's been a big battle, ma'am, and they say General 
 Ouster and lots of officers is killed." 
 
 Truscott swung his wife from the wagon, and almost 
 lifted her to the piazza. Miss Sanford, white and silent, 
 sprang out unaided and ran to her side. Mrs. Stan- 
 nard, with an awful dread in her kind blue eyes, took 
 Truscott's hand as he returned and assisted her to alight. 
 
 " Will you stay with Grace ?" he whispered. " I 
 will go at once to the office. Come, Mrs. Turner." 
 
 But Mrs. Turner hung back irresolute. " Perhaps 
 it isn't true at all, captain, and this may be the only 
 time we can have the ambulance for a week." 
 
 For answer he silently took her at the waist in his 
 powerful hands, set her speechless with astonishment 
 on the sidewalk, sprang in, and spoke sharply to the 
 driver,
 
 A SERENADE. 
 " Whirl round. Get there to the office quick as you 
 
 " 
 
 can. 
 
 And the lashed mules went at a gallop. 
 
 Entering the office with the customary knock at the 
 open door, Truscott stood first in the presence of the 
 post commander and his adjutant. 
 
 " For God's sake read that !" said the colonel, hold 
 ing up to him some three or four sheets of telegraphic 
 despatch paper. The other officers came hurrying in. 
 
 " Read it aloud, Truscott." 
 
 And so to the group of speechless officers and to the 
 knot of soldiers who had gathered in the hall the dread 
 news of the battle of the Little Horn was told at Rus 
 sell. Custer and his five pet companies completely 
 " wiped out," said the staff-officer, who sent the news 
 flashing around to the military posts in the department. 
 Three hundred and twenty-five soldiers swept out of 
 existence only an easy day's gallop in front of the 
 Gray Fox's pickets, and it had taken all this time ten 
 days to get the news into civilization. There was no 
 sign of a smile the rest of that long day at Russell. 
 The gloom of death had settled down on the post. 
 The ladies were seen no more. The doctor was sent 
 for in more than one instance. Mrs. Truscott was 
 reported very ill. 
 
 But if garrison after garrison was thrown into dismay 
 all over the frontier by the sudden news, who can pic 
 ture the scene at Lincoln, when at dawn of that dreadful 
 day a sergeant came over from the boat at Bismarck to 
 arouse the people at the hospital and to break the blow 
 to the widows and orphans ? Reveille had not sounded 
 when the commanding officer, the adjutant, and a 
 
 16
 
 182 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 surgeon started on the gloomy round of the cavalry 
 garrison. Yesterday we saw those fair, smiling women 
 bravely striving to hide their anxieties and loneliness, 
 and to lend enthusiasm to the celebration of the nation's 
 tinniversary. One after another they were startled from 
 the deep slumber of early morning by the knocking at 
 the door, " the first knell of disaster," and who that 
 saw the old Missouri post when the fearful news was 
 finally made known to all will ever forget the scene 
 that ensued ? May God avert the possibility of such 
 another ! 
 
 The day wore gloomily away at Russell. Twice Mr. 
 Gleason called at Captain Truscott's quarters. The 
 second time Mrs. Stannard appeared at the door, and 
 briefly told him that Mrs. Truscott was not well enough 
 to see anybody, and that Miss San ford begged to be ex 
 cused. Mrs. Whaling permeated the post in an ecstasy 
 of soulful comfort, shedding prayers and prophecies of 
 similar fortune for the th with the impartiality of 
 a saint. She even succeeded in scaring Mrs. Turner 
 half to death and exasperating Mrs. Wilkins to the 
 verge of a tirade, but the latter had contented herself 
 with the spirited, though ungrateful announcement that 
 when it came to having hearses and mutes it wouldn't 
 be Mrs. Whaling they'd inquire for. " Matters are 
 bad enough without your making 'em worse, ma'am," 
 she said, in her decided way. And the good lady, 
 longing to deluge somebody with sympathetic tears, 
 was compelled to confine herself to the round of the 
 infantry quarters, where, with the ladies of her own 
 regiment, she could bemoan the unfathomable ingrati 
 tude and lack of appreciation of their sisters of the th.
 
 A SERENADE. 133 
 
 Late that afternoon there came more orders and 
 despatches. Truscott and the other cavalry officers 
 were summoned to Colonel Whaling's, where they 
 found most of the infantrymen already assembled. 
 Captain Webb had been called back to Kansas as a 
 witness before a civil court, and to Truscott the order 
 of the division commander was conveyed that he should 
 march with the two troops at Eussell without delay, 
 and join the th wherever he could find them north 
 of the Platte. Three of the four infantry companies 
 would also march for Laramie at dawn. Colonel 
 Whaling, with one small company, the recruits, the 
 band, and the noncombatants, would remain to take 
 charge of the post. 
 
 Sending for his first sergeant, Truscott ordered him to 
 have everything put in readiness at once. A man was 
 sent to town to recall all soldiers on pass. There had 
 been no drills during the day. Officers and men alike 
 seemed stunned by the tidings that had come at guard- 
 mounting. He then went to his quarters, and to his 
 young wife's bedside. She was prepared for the news ; 
 he had told her during the day that now every avail 
 able officer and man would be hurried to the front. 
 She was in no danger whatever ; it was the shock, the 
 abruptness of the announcement of the orderly, that 
 had so prostrated her. She lay there very pale and still 
 never taking her soft eyes from his face and holding 
 tightly his hand as he gently told her all he had to say. 
 
 " I cannot be too thankful," he said at last, " that I 
 have Miss Sanford and Mrs. Stannard here to be your 
 companions during the campaign. It will be late in 
 autumn before we can hope to return, my darling."
 
 184 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Later that evening the young subalterns of his own 
 and Webb's troop came to him for certain instructions 
 as to the mess and baggage arrangements. Mr. Gleason 
 had not appeared since the issuance of the orders to 
 march. Tattoo was just sounding out on the parade, 
 and the men could be seen flitting to and fro against 
 the lights of the company barracks. They were stand 
 ing at the little gate in front of his quarters, and two 
 or three officers passed them. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Gleason, one moment," called Truscott. 
 
 Gleason turned and approached them. 
 
 " I presume you will mess with the rest of us, at 
 least until we reach the regiment. Mr. Wells has been 
 arranging for mess-furniture and supplies." 
 
 " Well er no, captain," said Gleason, in evident 
 embarrassment. "The fact is the colonel directs that 
 I remain here. Somebody has to stay to instruct re 
 cruits, and the colonel has settled upon me. It is 
 merely temporary, of course." 
 
 Truscott stood looking at him in silence a moment ; 
 a dark line was growing between his brows. 
 
 "The colonel er sent for me just at retreat," 
 Gleason stumbled on ; "I assure you I had nothing to 
 say to him to bring about such a thing. It was en 
 tirely against my wishes, but orders are orders." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say the order was unso 
 licited," said the captain shortly. " The colonel will, 
 doubtless, notify me. That is all, Mr. Gleason ; I will 
 not detain you." 
 
 And Gleason went on his way to the store, which he 
 had lately avoided ; he felt that he stood in need of 
 bracing. Still, so far as saying that he had made no
 
 A SERENADE. 13 5 
 
 request of Colonel Whaling, he had told the truth. 
 He had simply represented the detachment of recruits 
 as being utterly demoralized by the news of the mas 
 sacre, and that he had reason to believe many of them 
 would desert, and as that would reflect on the vigilance 
 of the post commander, the latter jumped at what was 
 suggested to him by his far-sighted wife, the tempo 
 rary detention of Mr. Gleason to take charge of them. 
 At daybreak on the sixth, Truscott's squadron, of over 
 a hundred horse finely mounted, equipped, and disci 
 plined, was marching rapidly over the ridge to Lodge 
 Pole, leaving Russell wives and children behind ; 
 leaving to care for them, among others, Gleason and 
 Sergeant Wolf. 
 
 Wearily the day of their departure rolled away. 
 Mrs. Truscott never left her room. Mrs. Stannard and 
 Miss Sanford rarely left her. Once or twice had Mr. 
 Gleason called, being met again by Mrs. Stannard, whom 
 he was beginning to hate. " The ladies were resting," 
 he was informed ; so, too, was Mrs. Whaling told when 
 she came, and seemed discomfited at not being invited 
 up-stairs. It was difficult, indeed, to persuade her that 
 she had not better remain in the parlor in case Mrs. 
 Truscott should ask for her. 
 
 " You see, Mrs. Stannard," explained Gleason, " the 
 last thing I promised Truscott as he rode away was 
 that I would not lose sight of the ladies, would watch 
 over them incessantly, and I want to keep faith with 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Stannard had her doubts as to how much of 
 this statement was true, though she had no doubts as to 
 how much was uncalled for. Mr. Gleason went away 
 16*
 
 186 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 feeling injured and rebuffed. It was Miss Sanford's 
 business, he held, to come down and see him if only for 
 a moment. He had gained his object in being kept 
 back at the post, that he might pursue his wooing. 
 Satisfied of the wealth and social standing of the lady, 
 he felt no doubt whatever that if given a fair field he 
 could win her, and win her he would. If unlimited 
 conceit has not yet been mentioned or indicated as one 
 of Mr. Gleason's prominent traits, the omission is indeed 
 important. He felt that up to the time of Truscott's 
 coming his progress had been satisfactory. Officers 
 and ladies were already making sly allusions in his 
 presence as to his prospects for a second entanglement, 
 and were heard with complacent undenial. Ever since 
 the day of his aspersion of Ray he had been losing 
 ground, however, and now, confound it ! here was Ray 
 looming up as a hero again, making a wild night-ride 
 with despatches. He felt that things must be brought 
 to a crisis speedily. He knew that, properly handled, 
 he had the means of clouding Ray's name with some 
 thing worse than suspicion. He had already sneeringly 
 replied to the officers who had spoken admiringly of 
 Ray's daring, by saying that Ray was, doubtless, trying 
 to make a record to block matters that were working 
 against him here. Some of his auditors had gone off 
 
 o o 
 
 disgusted. One had plainly said he was sick of insin 
 uations. Now, however, they were all gone, and he 
 had the field practically to himself. The half-dozen 
 officers left at the post would be little apt to interfere 
 with him. Only, he must manage Mrs. Stannard. 
 Gleason took a fortifying glass or two, ordered up his 
 horse, and, late as it was, rode in to Cheyenne. There
 
 A SERENADE. 
 
 he dropped in at the telegraph-office, he could have 
 esent it from the adjutant's office just as well, and, after 
 some deliberation, wrote this despatch : 
 
 " WILLARD KALLSTON, ESQ., Omaha. 
 
 "Why no letter? When you coming ? Act now. Ferguson 
 e;one. 
 
 " G." 
 
 Being in town he dropped in at one or two places of 
 popular resort, and had more or less conversation with 
 the hangers-on at the open bars. He drank more freely 
 than usual, too, and while by no means off Ins balance, 
 mentally or physically, when at midnight he turned his 
 horse's head homewards, he was rather more capable 
 of any deed of meanness than would ordinarily have 
 been deemed expedient. His quarters reached, he stood 
 for a moment gazing along the dark and silent row. 
 Suddenly, soft and sweet on the clear night air he heard 
 the notes of a guitar, then a tenor voice, well trained, 
 rich and melodious. He well knew there was no officer 
 in the garrison who could sing like that. Who was it ? 
 "Where was it ? 
 
 Slipping through the back-yard and keeping close 
 under the high board fence, Mr. Gleason tiptoed up the 
 row until behind Truscott's. A convenient knot-hole 
 enabled him to peer through, and his eye lit on the 
 dim figure of a man enveloped in cavalry overcoat 
 standing beneath the rear window. This, then, was the 
 troubadour. 
 
 A moment or two previous, Miss Sanford, wearied 
 after a long day of- anxiety and care, was roused from 
 a broken sleep by a soft, sweet tenor voice beneath her
 
 188 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 window, and the tinkling accompaniment of a guitar. 
 Each word came floating through the silent night, 
 
 " 'Rings Stille herscht es schweigt der Wald, 
 Vollendet ist des Tages Lauf ; 
 Der Vogleins Lied ist langst verhallt, 
 Am Himmel ziehn die Sterne auf. 
 
 Scblaf wohl, schlaf wohl, 
 Und schliess die schoiien Augen zu ; 
 
 Schlaf wohl, schlaf wohl, 
 Du siisser, lieber Engel Du." 
 
 She knew instantly who it must be. She noiselessly 
 slipped to the door leading into Grace's chamber, and 
 the dim night-light showed her sweet friend sound 
 asleep. Returning, she crept to the window, shrouded 
 as it was by the inner curtain. No sign would she give 
 that the song was heard, but what woman would not 
 have risked one peep ? Finishing his song, the serenader 
 turned on his heel, gave one long, lingering look at the 
 darkened window, then strode out of the rear gate 
 and away towards the band quarters. Drawing the 
 curtain farther aside, Miss Sanford plainly recognized 
 the walk and bearing. She followed him with her eyes 
 until he had gone full a hundred yards, was about to 
 let fall the curtain, when, crouching like panther, sneak 
 ing from shadow to shadow, there slipped past the gate 
 the dim figure of a second man in stealthy pursuit. 
 Who could this be? The first, of course, was Sergeant
 
 SURROUNDED. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SURROUNDED. 
 
 " ONE thing is certain : we ought to get word over 
 to Wayne or he'll be cut off." The speaker was old 
 Stannard, and his auditors were a knot of half a dozen 
 officers of the th. It was just daybreak, cold, crisp, 
 and clear. It was about a week after the news of the 
 battle of the Little Horn had reached the regiment. 
 Already its two strongest battalions were marching to 
 join Crook at the Big Horn, but a little squadron two 
 troops under command of Captain Wayne lay nearly 
 two days' march away, lower down the broad valley to 
 wards the southeast. The tidings that had come by 
 special couriers were exciting, even alarming. A great 
 outbreak had occurred among the Indians still at the 
 agencies on White River. Nearly a thousand of the 
 Southern Cheyennes, who had nothing whatever to do 
 with the quarrel of Sitting Bull and his people, who 
 had no grievance whatever against the government, but 
 had been fed, clothed, petted, and pampered for six or 
 eight years, and who up to this time remained at the 
 reservations, had become so emboldened at the success 
 of the renegades and warriors in the Big Horn country, 
 so envious of their great massacre of Custer and his 
 men, that they had suddenly thrown off all disguise, 
 loaded up with all the provisions, arms, and ammuni 
 tion they could buy or steal, and had jumped for the
 
 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Northwest, murdering and pillaging as they went. 
 Waiting no orders, dropping, indeed, the retrograde 
 movement he was ordered to make before this outbreak 
 was known, the regimental commander had turned his 
 columns and shot " cross country" on a night inarch to 
 head them off. A soldier who doubted the " grit" of 
 his officers and men, who was himself indisposed to 
 dare so strong and savage a foe, could easily have taken 
 refuge in these orders and, marching as directed, avoid 
 the Cheyennes entirely. They were known to be the 
 fiercest, sharpest, trickiest fighters of the plains, full of 
 pluck and science, superb horsemen, fine shots, splen 
 didly mounted and equipped. A foe, indeed, the aver 
 age man would think twice before " tackling," especially 
 in the light of the fearful exhibition of Indian prowess 
 of the 25th of June. But the leader of the th never 
 thought twice. No sooner did the breathless couriers 
 reach him with the news than he formed his plans in- 
 stanter. Within an hour every horse and man in the 
 th seemed to know they had a race and a fight ahead. 
 Eighty miles of rough country to ride over before they 
 could strike the line on which the Cheyennes were 
 moving, and then the th could speak for themselves. 
 The news of the tragedy of the Little Horn came like 
 a stunning blow to many a fellow who had lost old and 
 tried comrades in the fray ; but while laugh and jest 
 seemed banished for the time, there was no doubting 
 the spirit of the regiment for the coming business. 
 They had turned sharply from their course late in the 
 afternoon of the previous day, had marched nearly all 
 night, had halted to make coffee and give the horses 
 water and a good feed as they reached the sheltering
 
 SURROUNDED. 191 
 
 cottonwoods by the stream ; and now, while some of the 
 officers with their field-glasses were lying prone upon 
 the commanding ridges studying the distant valley for 
 signs, another party was gathered here around the 
 colonel, who had been having a brief chat with " old 
 Stannard." 
 
 " Wayne has been warned by this time. I sent two 
 of the scouts across from the Rawhide last evening," 
 was the colonel's quiet reply to the impulsive outburst 
 of his junior. 
 
 " He is off their line of march entirely, I know," 
 admitted Stannard, " but those fellows have had eyes 
 out in every direction. They know just where he is. 
 They know just where that wagon-train is, and up to 
 last evening they knew just where we were, though 
 they are puzzled now, I reckon. All I'm afraid of is 
 that the moment they find we're not in supporting dis 
 tance, they'll drop what they're after and turn on 
 Wayne. He ought to be only forty odd miles down 
 this valley, considerably off their line, and if he 
 has kept close and not fooled away his time he is safe 
 enough ; but Wayne is Wayne, colonel, and I've 
 known him to go poking off on side scouts and losing 
 time ' topogging' over pretty country when he ought to 
 have been making tracks for home." (Stannard would 
 use the vernacular of the frontier when at all excited-.) 
 " Now it would be just like Wayne to have lost a day 
 in just such a manner. I hope not, but I fear it." 
 
 " He has Ray with him," suggested Captain Turner. 
 
 " I know that ; but Wayne is butt-headed as a billy- 
 goat on some points, and one is that he can't be taught 
 anything about Indians. He's as innocent and unsus-
 
 192 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 picious and incapable of appreciating their wiles as the 
 average Secretary of the Interior ; and Wayne isn't the 
 kind of man to be influenced by Ray's opinions. He'd 
 be more apt to tell Ray to keep them to himself. It 
 couldn't be helped, of course, but it's a pity two com 
 panies had to be sent on that scout. I'd feel safer 
 under Ray with one troop than under Wayne with two." 
 
 " I confess I wish we could see just where they were 
 and what they were doing," said the colonel, with an 
 anxious look on his sun-blistered face ; " but we have 
 our hands full as it is. Come, Mr. Adjutant, it's time 
 we were off ! Get the men in saddle and have the arms 
 and ammunition inspected, fifty rounds to the man, 
 at least. Major Stannard, where would you locate 
 Truscott's command this morning ? I shall send cou 
 riers back from here to find him and tell him to join 
 Wayne." 
 
 To join Wayne ! Well, just at that particular mo 
 ment Wayne was wishing that he might, or somebody 
 equally strong. And if the colonel could but have 
 seen the fix that doughty dragoon was in fifty miles 
 away the concern on his ruddy face would have been 
 intensified. Wayne had succeeded in justifying every 
 thing Stannard had said of him. He had, indeed, 
 been " fooling away his time" on side scouts, and now, 
 before he had fairly dreamed of the possibility of such 
 a thing, the hills around him were alive with Indians. 
 
 Ray, with his troop, had been assigned to the cap 
 tain's command for a scout of some importance over 
 towards the reservations three days before this unlucky 
 morning. Rumors of the disaffection of the Chey- 
 ennes had come to the colonel. Everybody knew that
 
 SURROUNDED. 193 
 
 the Indians would be wild with delight over the news 
 from Sitting Bull. Indeed, there was reason to believe 
 that it was being whispered at the reservations before 
 the telegraph flashed the tidings broadcast on the 5th 
 of July. Were there not two days there on the Mini 
 Pusa the 2d and 3d of July wjien little parties of 
 Indians were chased towards as well as from the White 
 River ? Wayne's orders were to scout the valley and 
 report whether Indians were venturing out that way. 
 Before he had been two days away from the regiment 
 he found trail after trail of war-parties crossing the 
 valley northward. Signal-smokes and night-fires were 
 in the hills beyond. The evidence was conclusive to 
 expert eyes, but Wayne said that, all told, no more 
 than one hundred warriors could have gone out. He 
 was bent on going farther and seeing how many more 
 there were. Ray, as second in rank among the five 
 officers present, ventured to suggest that they had seen 
 quite enough, and that without delay they should 
 either return directly to the regiment or send word. 
 Wayne would not send because only a hundred tracks 
 had been seen, and by the time he had run over double 
 that number the two scouts with them refused to go 
 back. " We would be cut off and killed, sure as fate," 
 was their comprehensive reason. They bivouacked 
 that night in the timber, keeping out strong guards 
 and pickets, but with early dawn were astir, moving 
 back up the valley. Once again had Ray offered a 
 suggestion, that they should put back during the 
 night, but Wayne was nettled at the fact that Ray's 
 prophecy had come true. They had stayed too long 
 and gone too far. He was a John Bull sort of fellow, 
 i n 17
 
 194 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 full of the ponderous, bumptious courage which prompts 
 the men of that illustrious island empire to be shot down 
 like cattle by Boers and Zulus and Arabs and Afghans, 
 adhering rigidly to the tactics of Waterloo to fight the 
 scientific light troops of the savages sooner than depart 
 from that which was the conventional British method of 
 making war. Wayne was lacking only in moral cour 
 age. He was afraid to say he was wrong and Ray was 
 right. Before they had gone two miles he was forced 
 to admit it. He was hemmed in on every side. 
 
 The valley had narrowed considerably just here, and 
 the bare, rounded bluffs came down to within two hun 
 dred and fifty yards of the timber along the stream. 
 Willows in sparse groups and cottonwoods in sun- 
 bleached foliage were scattered along the level bench 
 on both sides of the river-bed. Broad wastes of sand 
 extended in places from bank to bank, and what water 
 there was lay in heated pools. Here and there the 
 white incrustation on the sand told of the strongly 
 alkaline nature of the soil and the consequent impurity 
 of the fluid. The little column, with scouts well out 
 on front and flanks, was moving four abreast up the 
 south bank along their trail of the previous day. 
 Every now and then some officer or man would note a 
 new signal-smoke puffing up to the sky among the 
 hills some distance off the valley, and Wayne was rid 
 ing in rather sulky dignity at the head of the command. 
 He had come to the conclusion that he had done an 
 idiotic thing the morning previous, in pushing on down 
 the valley after discovering beyond question that so 
 many Indians were already on the move. He well 
 knew that Ray was the last man in the regiment to
 
 SURROUNDED. 195 
 
 jounsel avoiding danger, unless it were danger which 
 would prove overwhelming and for encountering which 
 there could be no excuse. He knew he had been 
 idiotic now, for he could see indications that Indians 
 were closing in on him from every side ; but, worse 
 than that, he knew that he had added to his idiocy a 
 performance that was simply asinine : he had lost his 
 temper and said an outrageous thing to Ray, and some 
 of the men had heard it. From earliest dawn the lieu 
 tenant had been out with the pickets eagerly scanning 
 the surrounding country. Indians, of course, were not 
 to be seen. They kept out of sight behind the bluffs 
 and ridges, but their signals were floating skyward from 
 half a dozen different points, and Ray knew it meant 
 that they were calling in their forces to concentrate on 
 this lone command. At last he had gone to Wayne, 
 who was sipping his coffee with as much deliberation 
 as though the troops had nothing on earth to do alt 
 day. 
 
 " Captain Wayne. May I ask if anything further 
 has been done towards getting word back to the regi 
 ment?" 
 
 Wayne looked curiously at his junior a moment. 
 He had the unpleasant conviction that whatever his 
 own views might be, the regiment generally would be 
 more apt to back Ray's opinions as to the chances in 
 Indian fighting than they would his. He could not 
 complain of the lieutenant's manner in the least, but all 
 the same he felt certain that Ray had a higher opinion 
 of his own judgment than he had of his, the squadron 
 commander's. It was time to take him down. 
 
 " Why do you ask, Ray ?" he said, with assumed
 
 [96 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 composure, setting down his tin cup and motioning tc 
 the attendant that he desired to have it refilled. 
 
 " Because we are now pretty well hemmed in, and 
 unless word has gone, there will be little chance of 
 sending any." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Ray, why should we send any ?" 
 
 " Because, Captain Wayne, we have neither ammu 
 nition nor provisions for a siege, and the chances are in 
 favor of our having to stand one." 
 
 " Oh, trash ! Ray. I expected more nerve of you, 
 and you are the first man in the crowd to get stam 
 peded." 
 
 For an instant there was danger of an explosion. 
 Ray's eyes blazed with wrath. He would have burst 
 into a fury of denunciation, captain or no captain, but 
 there close at hand stood many silent groups of the 
 men. For once in his life Ray said not a word. For 
 one long ten seconds he stood there, looking Wayne 
 straight in the eye, then turned on his heel and left 
 him. 
 
 The captain would have given much to recall the 
 words. He knew their utter injustice. He knew, 
 worse luck ! that if they succeeded in getting back to 
 the th in safety, about the very first thing he would 
 be called upon to do would be to eat them. For the 
 moment he was Ray's commanding officer and there 
 was no resenting them ; but once back with the th, 
 then there would be fun ! 
 
 Wayne rode for the first mile or so in sulky dignity, 
 as has been said. Ray was out in front with the scouts. 
 He had gone without saying a word to the commander, 
 and though that was a breach of etiquette, the captain
 
 SURROUNDED. 197 
 
 well knew that there of all others was the place for 
 Ray to be. None of his other subalterns came neai 
 him. There were only two, Dana and Hunter, and 
 they were riding each at the head of the troop to which 
 he was attached. A young assistant surgeon was with 
 the party, and a civilian who had charge of the half- 
 dozen pack-mules ambling alongside, but even these 
 men seemed indisposed to chat with the commanding 
 officer. The column was riding " at ease," but in silence. 
 No whistling, joking, or singing was going on. To 
 the right was the timber through which, well to the 
 front, half a dozen skirmishers were pushing so as to 
 secure the main body against surprise. To the left, 
 full eight hundred yards away, rose the low line of 
 bluffs, sweeping around the left front so as to approach 
 the stream. Two or three men rode warily along their 
 crest, keeping sharp lookout to the south, while scattered 
 across the valley a like distance ahead were half a dozen 
 active troopers, the two guides, and Ray. The latter, 
 easily recognized at that distance by his riding and by 
 " Dandy's" elastic stride, had discarded his coat, and 
 was moving rapidly from point to point in his dark- 
 blue scouting-shirt. 
 
 Nearing the bluffs that bent around their front, it 
 could be seen that the guides were hanging back a little, 
 so were the skirmishers in advance ; but the men on the 
 flanks pushed ahead. No Indians could be seen from 
 their more elevated position. 
 
 " They're shy of that bluff," said Wayne between 
 his teeth. " Here, Mr. Dana, send a sergeant and two 
 sets of fours forward, and stir them up a little. Wait 
 a moment ! There goes Ray." 
 
 17*
 
 |98 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Sure enough, Ray and a couple of horsemen, opening 
 out considerably, could be seen spurring diagonally 
 across the bottom towards a point of bluffs that rose 
 higher than the general line off to the left. Before 
 they had gone two hundred yards, out from the very 
 crest of the bluff there leaped half a dozen quick puffs 
 of smoke ; half a dozen little spirts of dust and sand 
 flew up from the prairie near the three horsemen farthest 
 to the front, two of whose steeds were seen to veer and 
 shy violently, and then six sharp, spiteful, half-muffled 
 reports were borne on the still air. 
 
 Even before the shots were heard Wayne was turn 
 ing in his saddle. 
 
 " Deploy to the front, Dana ; only your first platoon," 
 he added, as the young officer was about throwing for 
 ward the whole troop. " Look out for the bluffs on 
 your left. I'll have Hunter face them. Half front 
 your line that way so as not to let them enfilade you. 
 I'm going right out to the front." With that he rode 
 back, said a few words to Hunter, and then, followed 
 by his orderly trumpeter, went thumping off at pon 
 derous gallop towards his distant advance. 
 
 Almost at the same instant the flankers on the bluffs 
 to the left were seen waving their hats and spurring 
 about in violent excitement, pointing towards the south. 
 Then they fired two or three wild shots in that direc 
 tion, and, ducking as though to avoid return fire, came 
 sweeping down the slopes at full speed. 
 
 It was stirring to mark the bearing of the little com 
 mand just then. Every man knew that the unseen 
 foe was present in front and flank in heavy force. 
 Every hand seemed nerved to sudden strength. The
 
 SURROUNDED. 199 
 
 horses tossed their heads and pricked up their ears, 
 looking eagerly in the direction of the firing. In obe 
 dience to his orders, Dana was rapidly deploying his 
 leading platoon, and a sheaf of skirmishers went scat 
 tering out to the front in support of the advance, while 
 Hunter, left for the moment alone, divined in an instant 
 that the Indians were coming with a rush upon the 
 southern flank. He wheeled his fours to the left, and, 
 dismounting his skirmishers, sent them at the double- 
 quick out across the prairie. Not an instant too soon ! 
 Almost simultaneously the ridge to the south, the bluffs 
 out in front, and even the narrow level between them 
 and the timber fairly bristled with daring, dashing 
 horsemen, the Cheyennes in all their glory. 
 
 Oh, what a brilliant sight they made with plume and 
 pennon, floating war-bonnet, lance and shield ; the sun 
 light dancing on their barbaric ornaments of glistening 
 brass or silver, on brightly-painted, naked forms, on 
 the trappings of their nimble ponies, on rifle and spear ! 
 All at full speed, all ayell, brandishing their weapons, 
 firing wildly into the valley, leaping, some of them, for 
 an instant to the ground to take better aim, then, like 
 a flash, to saddle and top speed again ; through every 
 little swale, over every ridge they popped like so many 
 savage Jacks-in-the-box, and came swooping, circling 
 down on the little column at the old-time tactics of the 
 stampede. Warily though, with all their clamor, for 
 though they whoop and yell and shoot and challenge, 
 they veer off to right or left long before they get within 
 dangerous range of those silent skirmishers of Hun 
 ter's, now sprawling in long blue line out on the dusty 
 prairie, venire d, terre, and every fellow with his car-
 
 200 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 bine at the front just praying the painted scamps will 
 come a little closer. Warily in front, too, where Ray 
 is skilfully retiring, face to the foe, but keeping them 
 back while Wayne has time to return to the column 
 and move his horses into the sheltering timber and pre 
 pare for vigorous defence. 
 
 It is the only course now open to him. This is not 
 civilized warfare, remember, and far different rules must 
 govern. It would be no difficult matter against ordi 
 nary troops to lead a dashing charge, cut through the 
 opposing line, and so make his way back to the regi 
 ment. Of course many men might be unhorsed and 
 wounded, and so left behind, but they would be cared 
 for as prisoners until exchanged or the war was at an 
 end. But war with the Indian means, on his side, 
 war d owtrance, war to the cruellest death he can de 
 vise. When he is cornered, all he has to do is sur 
 render and become the recipient of more attention and 
 the victim of higher living than he ever dreamed of 
 until he tried it, and found it so pleasant that it paid 
 him to go on the war-path every spring, to have a royal 
 old revel in blood and bestiality until fall, and then 
 yield to the blandishments of civilization for the 
 winter. But to officer or soldier capture means death, 
 and death by fiendish torture as a rule. The Indian 
 fights for the glory and distinction it gives him. He 
 has everything to gain and nothing to lose. The sol 
 dier of the United States fights the red man only because 
 he is ordered to. He has nothing to gain even glory, 
 for the Senate has fixed a bar sinister on gallantry in 
 Indian warfare. He has everything to lose. However, 
 no words of mine will ever effect a change of political
 
 SURROUNDED. 201 
 
 heart in such matters. The fact remains that the one 
 thing left for Wayne to do finding himself cut off by 
 some two hundred Cheyennes was to take to the tim 
 ber and stand them off. 
 
 By this time the fray was spirited and picturesque in 
 the extreme. The whole line of bluffs was alive with 
 Indians dashing to and fro, occasionally swooping down 
 as though to burst through or over the slender skir 
 mish line. Others had swung clear around to the left, 
 and were circling about in the valley below them. 
 From all but the north side, therefore, the bullets came 
 whistling in, and occasionally some stricken horse would 
 plunge and snort madly, and one or two men were be 
 ing assisted to the bank of the stream, where the young 
 doctor had already gone to work. Hunter's dismounted 
 men, sturdily fronting the south and southeast, were 
 holding five times their force in check, while Ray's and 
 Dana's mounted skirmishers, fronting southwest and 
 west, were slowly falling back fighting. The Chey 
 ennes encircled them on every side but the north. 
 
 Busy in getting his horses into shelter under the bank, 
 which was a few feet high, and directing where the pro 
 visions and pack-mules should be placed, Wayne was 
 suddenly accosted by Ray. 
 
 " If twenty men can be spared, sir, I'll put them on 
 that island," pointing to a clump of willows and cot- 
 tonwoods that stood along the opposite shore. " The 
 Indians are crossing above and below, and we'll soon 
 have their fire on our backs." 
 
 Wayne was soldier enough to see the force of the 
 suggestion. He was man enough, too, to want to ask 
 Ray's pardon for his language of the morning, but there
 
 202 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 was only time to accede to the request. The Kentuck- 
 ian, still mounted on Dandy, was darting across the 
 sandy space with a dozen or more of his men at his 
 heels. The island was a Godsend. In less than five 
 minutes the warriors who had ventured across, and were 
 now seeking for a shot at the safety-roost along under 
 the bank, were met by a score of well -aimed bullets that 
 drove them to cover, dragging with them the lifeless 
 body of one of their number. 
 
 " Spread out there, men !" shouted Wayne. " Seize 
 every point you can get on t'other shore. Run up 
 stream fifty yards or so and scoop holes for your 
 selves in the sand." And then he rode out to the front 
 again to superintend the retirement of his slender 
 lines. 
 
 But all this time the firing had been rapid and al 
 most incessant. As the troopers came slowly in towards 
 the timber and the Cheyennes realized that it was im 
 possible to drive them into panic or stampede, they 
 seemed to give far more attention to the accuracy of 
 their aim, and for this purpose the best shots had thrown 
 themselves from their ponies and were striving to pick 
 off the officers and prominent sergeants. Still, the 
 greater number remained in saddle whooping and yell 
 ing and darting to and fro at a comparatively safe dis 
 tance, banging away at anything or anybody within the 
 soldier lines, and offering tempting though difficult 
 marks for the sorely-tried skirmishers. Until he noted 
 the distant war-parties crossing to the north side of the 
 stream, Ray had been riding up and down the lines 
 checking the useless waste of ammunition. Every 
 where his voice could be heard, placid, almost laughing
 
 SURROUNDED. 203 
 
 at times, as he rebuked the senseless long-range shooting 
 of the men. 
 
 " Hold your fire, men. You can't hit those skipping 
 jack-rabbits half a mile away. What on earth are 
 you shooting at, Mulligan? You couldn't hit a whole 
 barn at that distance." 
 
 But all the same he was seriously worried. He knew 
 well that at the utmost there were no more than fifty 
 rounds per man with the troopers, and that rapid firing 
 would soon reduce this to next to nothing. The indi 
 cations were that once hemmed in to the timber they 
 would need every shot to stand off the Cheyennes until 
 relief could come, and before galloping off to secure 
 the timbered island in rear of their position and so 
 form a partially protected " corral" for the horses, he 
 had cautioned Dana and Hunter to be most sparing in 
 their fire, to allow no shot unless the Indians charged. 
 
 The foe, on the contrary, were flush with ammuni 
 tion. Mr. 's cartridges were abundant among 
 
 them, and from east, south, and west the bullets were 
 whizzing overhead, ripping up little grass tufts from the 
 prairie and raising a dust wherever they struck. The 
 mounted skirmishers sheered off into the timber quite 
 early, as they were being shot at from three sides, sprang 
 from their horses and took to the trees, but before they 
 could do so several casualties had occurred. Six horses 
 were lying dead out on the prairie, others were wounded 
 and bleeding, but worse than that, two old Arizona ser 
 geants, veterans of a dozen fights, and five of the men 
 were severely wounded. Ray's efforts to keep down 
 the return fire were futile. As long as the men had 
 cartridges and he was not about, they w r ould fire. Just
 
 204 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 as Wayne the second time rode out to the front he found 
 Dana slowly dismounting. 
 
 " Are you hit ?" he asked. 
 
 Dana nodded, pressed his hand to his side, and say 
 ing nothing, walked up to a neighboring cottonwood 
 and leaned against it, looking rather pale. 
 
 " Damn the luck !" growled Wayne. " This won't 
 do. I must get the whole crowd under cover." 
 
 " You get under yourself," grinned Dana. " That 
 hat of yours looks like a sieve now. Yi-ip ! There 
 goes your horse." And forgetting his own pain, he 
 strove to aid the captain, whose horse had suddenly 
 plunged forward, and was now rolling and kicking in 
 the agony of death. 
 
 " I'm all right, Dana. Poor old Ned ! he's carried 
 me many a mile. Here, sergeant, help the lieutenant 
 back to the doctor. Go, Dana ! I'll get the men 
 where they belong. We're all right, once we get in 
 the timber." 
 
 And so, little by little, slowly and steadily the skir 
 mishers fell back to the shelter of the trees. There in 
 big semicircle they were distributed, each in a little, 
 hastily constructed rifle-pit or shelter of his own, and 
 by nine o'clock this bright July morning the first phase 
 of the combat was at an end, ?nd there was time to 
 '' take account of stock." 
 
 Dana was shot through the side by a Henry or Win 
 chester bullet, and was lying under the bank faint, 
 thirsty, but plucky. Sergeant Gwinn and two of the 
 men were dead, and eight men now needed the care of 
 the surgeon ; three of them were senseless, probably 
 mortally hurt. At least fifteen horses were killed or
 
 SURROUNDED. 205 
 
 rendered useless ; the others were " corralled" under the 
 bank, where, in a deep bend, they were safe except from 
 long-range tire. Ray's men on the island had im 
 proved their advantage by seizing defensible positions 
 on the north bank, and, as against two hundred and 
 fifty Indians, with two days' rations left, with abundant 
 water to be had by digging in the sand, with pluck and 
 spirit left for anything, they were not badly off, pro 
 vided the Indians were not heavily reinforced and 
 provided their ammunition held out. 
 
 The Cheyennes now resorted to other tactics. Leav 
 ing but few warriors scurrying about on the open prai 
 rie, both north and south, they gathered in force in 
 the timber up- and down-stream and began their stealthy 
 approaches, keeping up all the time a sharp fire upon 
 Wayne's position. Every now and then would come a 
 frantic cry from some stricken horse as a random bullet 
 took effect, but few struck among the men. The sur 
 geon and the wounded were well sheltered in a concave 
 hollow of the bank. 
 
 There was fortunately little wind. With a gale 
 blowing either up- or down-stream, the Indians could 
 have fired the timber and soon driven them out. This 
 was well understood on both sides. But the besieged 
 knew as well that other methods would be resorted to, 
 and speedily they were developed. The rattling fire 
 that had been kept up ever since the first assault had 
 died away to an occasional shot, when suddenly from 
 the down-stream side there came a volley, a chorus of 
 frantic yells, and then a pandemonium of shots, shouts, 
 howls, and screeches, answered by the soldiers with 
 their carbines and the billingsgate of some irrepressible 
 
 18
 
 206 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 humorist. A savage attack had begun on Hunter's 
 men. Even aS Wayne and Bay, bending low to avoid 
 the storm, went scurrying through the trees to his as 
 sistance, followed by some half a dozen of the " old 
 hands," there came from up-stream just such another 
 assault, and in ten seconds every able man in the com 
 mand was hotly engaged. 
 
 " For God's sake, captain, don't let them waste their 
 fire !" shouted Kay. " I'll go back to the other front 
 and hold them there." 
 
 " All right ! I understand, Ray. You watch the 
 same thing over there," answered Wayne, who at an 
 other time would have resented any suggestions, but 
 had seen the value of Ray's words a dozen times that 
 day. " Damn it ! men. Fire slow. Don't throw 
 away a shot. Let them come closer ; that's what we 
 want," he shouted to the soldiers, who, lying behind 
 logs or kneeling among the trees, were driving their 
 missiles through the timber, where the smoke-wreaths 
 told of the otherwise invisible foe. Out on the prairie, 
 too, the mounted warriors went careering about, dash 
 ing at full speed towards the woods, as though deter 
 mined to charge, but invariably veering off to right or 
 left as they came within three hundred yards. Of 
 course, there was no direction from which the bullets 
 did not come whizzing into the timber, and men were 
 more likely to be hit in the back than elsewhere, one 
 of the many disheartening features of such warfare. 
 Almost every moment somebody was hit, though at the 
 time it could not be seen or known, as all were too 
 busy with what was in their front to look around, 
 in a while, too, some lucky shot would send an
 
 RAFS RIDE FOR LIFE. 207 
 
 Indian pony to his knees out on the prairie, or a wai- 
 rior would drop and be borne off by a ducking, dodg 
 ing trio of his fellows. Then there would be a shout 
 of triumph from the timber, answering yells of rage 
 and defiance from the foe ; but finally, after nearly an 
 hour of such savage work, the Cheyennes seemed to give 
 it up. Then came another respite, another " taking 
 of stock." 
 
 One of the scouts, one who had refused to try and 
 ride through to the regiment, was shot dead, and lay 
 on his face among the trees. So, too, were two more 
 of the men, while six were wounded, and Wayne him 
 self had a flesh wound in the thigh. The hot sun of 
 noonday was pouring down, and matters looked ugly. 
 
 " Do you know how much ammunition we have 
 left ?" asked Mr. Ray, in a low tone, of the command 
 ing officer about an hour later. 
 
 " No," said Wayne, looking anxiously in his face. 
 
 " Not twelve rounds to the man." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 KAY'S KLDE FOB LIFE. 
 
 DARKNESS has settled down in the shadowy Wyo 
 ming valley. By the light of a tiny fire under the bank 
 some twenty forms can be seen stretched upon the sand, 
 they are wounded soldiers. A little distance away 
 are nine others, shrouded in blankets : they are the 
 dead. Huddled in confused and cowering group are a
 
 208 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 few score horses, many of them sprawled upon the sand 
 motionless; others occasionally struggle to rise or 
 plunge about in their misery. Crouching among the 
 timber, vigilant but weary, dispersed in big, irregular 
 circle around the beleaguered bivouac, some sixty sol 
 diers are still on the active list. All around them, 
 vigilant and vengeful, lurk the Cheyennes. Every now 
 and then the bark as of a coyote is heard, a yelp 
 ing, querulous cry, and it is answered far across the 
 valley or down the stream. There is no moon ; the 
 darkness is intense, though the starlight is clear, and 
 the air so still that the galloping hoofs of the Cheyenne 
 ponies far out on the prairie sound close at hand. 
 
 "That's what makes it hard," says Ray, who is 
 bending over the prostrate form of Captain Wayne. 
 "If it were storming or blowing, or something to 
 deaden the hoof-beats, I could make it easier ; but it's 
 the only chance." 
 
 The only chance of what ? 
 
 When the sun went down upon Wayne's timber 
 citadel, and the final account of stock was taken for the 
 day, it was found that with one-fourth of the com 
 mand,, men and horses, killed and wounded there were 
 left not more than three hundred cartridges, all told, to 
 enable some sixty men to hold out until relief could 
 come against an enemy encircling them on every side, 
 and who had only to send over to the neighboring res 
 ervation forty miles away and get all the cartridges 
 
 they wanted. Mr. would let their friends have 
 
 them to kill buffalo, though Mr. and their friends 
 
 knew there wasn't a buffalo left within four hundred 
 miles.
 
 HAY'S RIDE FOR LIFE. 209 
 
 They could cut through, of course, and race up the 
 valley to find the th, but they would have to leave 
 the wounded and the dismounted behind, to death 
 by torture, so that ended the matter. Only one thing 
 remained. In some way by some means word must 
 be carried to the regiment. The chances were ten to 
 one against the couriers slipping out. Up and down 
 the valley, out on the prairie on both sides of the 
 stream, the Cheyennes kept vigilant watch. They had 
 their hated enemies in a death-grip, and only waited the 
 coming of other warriors and more ammunition to finish 
 them as the Sioux had finished Ouster. They knew, 
 though the besieged did not, that, the very evening be 
 fore, the th had marched away westward, and were 
 far from their comrades. All they had to do was to 
 prevent any one's escaping to give warning of the con 
 dition of things in Wayne's command. All, therefore, 
 were on the alert, and of this there was constant indi 
 cation. The man or men who made the attempt would 
 have to run the gauntlet. The one remaining scout 
 who had been employed for such work refused the 
 attempt as simply madness. He had lived too long 
 among the Indians to dare it, yet Wayne and Ray and 
 Dana and Hunter, and the whole command, for that 
 matter, knew that some one must try it. Who was it 
 to be? 
 
 There was no long discussion. Wayne called the 
 sulking scrut a damned coward, which consoled him 
 somewhat, but didn't help matters. Ray had been 
 around the rifle-pits taking observations. Presently 
 he returned, leading Dandy up near the fire, the one 
 sheltered light that was permitted. 
 o 18*
 
 210 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Looks fine as silk, don't he ?" he said, smoothing 
 his pet's glossy neck and shoulder, for Ray's groom 
 had no article of religion which took precedence over 
 the duty he owed the lieutenant's horse, and no sooner 
 was the sun down than he had been grooming him as 
 though still in garrison. " Give him all the oats you 
 can steal, Hogan ; some of the men must have a hatful 
 left." 
 
 "Wayne looked up startled. 
 
 " Ray, I can't let you go !" 
 
 " There's no helping it. Some one must go, and who 
 can you send ?" 
 
 Even there the captain noted the grammatical eccen 
 tricity. What was surprising was that even there he 
 made no comment thereon. He was silent. Ray had 
 spoken truth. There was no one whom he could 
 order to risk death in breaking his way out since the 
 scout had said 'twas useless. There were brave men 
 there who would gladly try it had they any skill in 
 such matters, but that was lacking. " If any man in 
 the command could ' make it,' that man was Ray." 
 He was cool, daring, keen ; he was their best and 
 lightest rider, and no one so well know the country or 
 better knew the Cheyennes. Wayne even wished that 
 Ray might volunteer. There was only this about it, 
 the men would lose much of their grit with him away. 
 They swore by him, and felt safe when he was there to 
 lead or encourage. But the matter was settled by Ray 
 himself. He was already stripping for the race. 
 
 "Get those shoes off," he said to the farrier, who 
 came at his bidding, and Dandy wonderingly looked up 
 from the gunny-sack of oats in which he had buried
 
 RAY'S RIDE FOR LIFE. 11 
 
 his nozzle. "What on earth could that blacksmith 
 mean by tugging out his shoe-nails ?" was his reflec 
 tion, though, like the philosopher he was, he gave more 
 thought to his oats, an unaccustomed luxury just then. 
 
 There seemed nothing to be said by anybody. Wayne 
 rose painfully to his feet. Hunter stood in silence by, 
 and a few men grouped themselves around the little 
 knot of officers. Ray had taken off his belt and was 
 poking out the carbine-cartridges from the loops, there 
 were not over ten. Then he drew the revolver, care 
 fully examined the chambers to see that all were filled ; 
 motioned with his hand to those on the ground, saying, 
 quietly, " Pick those up. Y'all may need every one of 
 'em." The Blue Grass dialect seemed cropping out the 
 stronger for his preoccupation. " Got any spare Colts ?" 
 he continued, turning to Wayne. " I only want an 
 other round." These he stowed as he got them in the 
 smaller loops on the right side of his belt. Then he 
 bent forward to examine Dandy's hoofs again. 
 
 " Smooth them off as well as you can. Get me a 
 little of that sticky mud there, one of you men. There ! 
 ram that into every hole and smooth off the surface. 
 Make it look just as much like a pony's as you know 
 how. They can't tell Dandy's tracks from their own 
 then, don't you see ?" 
 
 Three or four pairs of hands worked assiduously to 
 do his bidding. Still, there was no talking. No one 
 had anything he felt like saying just then. 
 
 " Who's got the time ?" he asked. 
 
 Wayne looked at his watch, bending down over the 
 fire. 
 
 " Just nine fifteen."
 
 212 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 "All right. I must be off in ten minutes. The 
 moon will be up at eleven." 
 
 Dandy had finished the last of his oats by this time 
 and was gazing contentedly about him. Ever since 
 quite early in the day he had been in hiding down there 
 under the bank. He had received only one trifling clip, 
 though for half an hour at least he had been springing 
 around where the bullets flew thickest. He was even 
 pining for his customary gallop over the springy turf, 
 and wondering why it had been denied him that day. 
 
 "Only a blanket and surcingle/' said Ray, to his 
 orderly, who was coming up with the heavy saddle and 
 bags. " We're riding to win to-night, Dandy and I, 
 and must travel light." 
 
 He flung aside his scouting hat, knotted the silk 
 handkerchief he took from his throat so as to confine 
 the dark hair that came tumbling almost into his eyes, 
 buckled the holster-belt tightly round his waist, looked 
 doubtfully an instant at his spurs, but decided to keep 
 them on. Then he turned to Wayne. 
 
 " A word with you, captain." 
 
 The others fell back a short distance, and for a 
 moment the two stood alone speaking in low tones. 
 All else was silent except the feverish moan of some 
 poor fellow lying sorely wounded in the hollow, or the 
 occasional pawing and stir among the horses. In the 
 dim light of the little fire the others stood watching 
 them. They saw that Wayne was talking earnestly, 
 and presently extended his hand, and they heard Ray. 
 somewhat impatiently, say, " Never mind that now," 
 and noted that at first he did not take the hand ; but 
 finally they came back to the group and Ray spoke :
 
 RAY'S RIDE FOR LIFE. 213 
 
 "Now, fellows, just listen a minute. I've got to 
 break out on the south side. I know it better. Of 
 course there are no end of Indians out there, but most 
 of the crowd are in the timber above and below. There 
 will be plenty on the watch, and it isn't possible that 
 I can gallop out through them without being heard. 
 Dandy and I have got to sneak for it until we're 
 spotted, or clear of them, then away we go. I hope 
 to work well out towards the bluffs before they catch a 
 glimpse of me, then lie flat and go for all I'm worth 
 to where we left the regiment. Then you bet it won't 
 be long before the old crowd will be coming down just 
 a humping. I'll have 'em here by six o'clock, if, in 
 deed, I don't find them coming ahead to-night. Just 
 you keep up your grit, and we'll do our level best, 
 Dandy and I ; won't we, old boy ? Now I want to see 
 Dana a minute and the other wounded fellows." And 
 he went and bent down over them saying a cheery word 
 to each ; and rough, suffering men held out feeble hands 
 to take a parting grip, and looked up into his brave 
 young face. He had long known how the rank and 
 file regarded him, but had been disposed to laugh it off. 
 To-night as he stopped to say a cheering word to the 
 Wounded, and looked down at some pale, bearded face 
 that had stood at his shoulder in more than one tight 
 place in the old Apache days in Arizona, and caught 
 the same look of faith and trust in him, something like 
 a quiver hovered for a minute about his lips, and his 
 own brave eyes grew moist. They knew he was daring 
 death to save them, but that was a view of the case 
 that did not seem to occur to him at all. At last he 
 came to Dana lying there a little apart. The news
 
 214 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 that Ray was going to " ride for them" had been whis 
 pered all through the bivouac by this time, and Dana 
 turned and took Ray's hand in both his own. 
 
 " God speed you, old boy ! If you make it all safe, 
 get word to mother that I didn't do so badly in my first 
 square tussel, will you ?" 
 
 " If I make it, you'll be writing it yourself this time 
 to-morrow night. Even if I don't make it, don't you 
 worry, lad. The colonel and Stannard ain't the fellows 
 to let us shift for ourselves with the country full of 
 Cheyennes. They'll be down here in two days, any 
 how. Good-by, Dana ; keep your grip and we'll lar 
 rup 'em yet." 
 
 Then he turned back to Wayne, Hunter, and the 
 doctor. 
 
 " One thing occurs to me, Hunter. You and six or 
 eight men take your carbines and go up-stream with a 
 dozen horses until you come to the rifle-pits. Be all 
 ready. If I get clear through you won't hear any row, 
 but if they sight or hear me before I get through, then, 
 of course, there will be the biggest kind of an excite 
 ment, and you'll hear the shooting. The moment it 
 begins give a yell ; fire your guns ; go whooping up 
 the stream with the horses as though the whole crowd 
 were trying to cut out that way, but get right back. 
 The excitement will distract them and help me. Now, 
 good-by, and good luck to you, crowd." 
 
 " Ray, will you have a nip before you try it ? 
 must be nearly used up after this day's work." 
 W ayne held out his flask to him. 
 
 " No. I had some hot coffee just ten minutes ago, 
 and I feel like a four-year-old. I'm riding new
 
 RAY'S RIDE FOR LIFE. 215 
 
 colors ; didn't you know it ? By Jove !" he added, 
 suddenly, " this is my first run under the Preakness 
 blue." Even there and then he thought too quickly 
 to speak her name. " Now, then, some of you crawl 
 out to the south edge of the timber with me, and lie 
 flat on the prairie and keep me in sight as long as you 
 can." He took one more look at his revolver. " I'm 
 drawing to a bob-tail. If I fail, I'll bluff; if I fill, 
 I'll knock spots out of any threes in the Cheyenne 
 outfit." 
 
 Three minutes more and the watchers at the edge of 
 the timber have seen him, leading Dandy by the bridle, 
 slowly, stealthily, creeping out into the darkness ; a 
 moment the forms of man and horse are outlined against 
 the stars : then, are swallowed up in the night. Hun 
 ter and the sergeants with him grasp their carbines and 
 lie prone upon the turf, watching, waiting. 
 
 In the bivouac is the stillness of death. Ten soldiers 
 carbine in hand mounted on their unsaddled steeds 
 are waiting in the darkness at the upper rifle-pits for 
 Hunter's signal. If he shout, every man is to yell and 
 break for the front. Otherwise, all is to remain quiet. 
 Back at the watch-fire under the bank Wayne is squat 
 ting, watch in one hand, pistol in the other. Near by 
 lie the wounded, still as their comrades just beyond, 
 the dead. All around among the trees and in the sand 
 pits up- and down-stream, fourscore men are listening 
 to the beating of their own hearts. In the distance, 
 once in a while, is heard the yelp of coyote or the 
 neigh of Indian pony. In the distance, too, are the 
 gleams of Indian fires, but they are far beyond the 
 positions occupied by the besieging warriors. Dark-
 
 216 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ness shrouds them. Far aloft the stars are twinkling 
 through the cool and breezeless air. With wind, or 
 storm, or tempest, the gallant fellow whom all hearts 
 are following would have something to favor, something 
 to aid ; but in this almost cruel stillness nothing under 
 God can help him, nothing but darkness and his own 
 brave spirit. 
 
 " If I get through this scrape in safety," mutters 
 Wayne between his set teeth, " the th shall never 
 hear the last of this work of Ray's." 
 
 " If I get through this night," mutters Ray to him 
 self, far out on the prairie now, where he can hear 
 tramping hoofs and guttural voices, "it will be the 
 best run ever made for the Sanford blue, though I do 
 make it." 
 
 Nearly five minutes have passed, and the silence has 
 been unbroken by shot or shout. The suspense is be 
 coming unbearable in the bivouac, where every man is 
 listening, hardly daring to draw breath. At last Hun 
 ter, rising to his knees, which are all a tremble with 
 excitement, mutters to Sergeant Roach, who is still 
 crouching beside him, 
 
 " By Heaven ! I believe he'll slip through without 
 being seen." 
 
 Hardly has he spoken when far, far out to the south 
 west two bright flashes leap through the darkness. 
 Before the report can reach them there comes another, 
 not so brilliant. Then, the ringing bang, bang of two 
 rifles, the answering crack of a revolver. 
 
 " Quick, men. Go !" yells Hunter, and darts head 
 long through the timber back to the stream. There is 
 a sudden burst of shots and yells and soldier cheers ; a
 
 RAFS RIDE FOR LIFE. 217 
 
 mighty crash and sputter and thunder of hoofs up the 
 stream-bed ; a foot dash, yelling like demons, of the 
 men at the west end in support of the mounted charge 
 in the bed of the stream. For a minute or two the 
 welkin rings with shouts, shots (mainly those of the 
 startled Indians), then there is as sudden a rush back 
 to cover, without a man or horse hurt or missing. In 
 the excitement and darkness the Cheyennes could only 
 fire wild, but now the night air resounds with taunts 
 and yells and triumphant war-whoops. For full five 
 minutes there is a jubilee over the belief that they have 
 penned in the white soldiers after their dash for liberty. 
 Then, little by little, the yells and taunts subside. 
 Something has happened to create discussion in the 
 Cheyenne camps, for the crouching soldiers can hear 
 the liveliest kind of a pow-wow far up-stream. What 
 does it mean? Has Hay slipped through, or have 
 they caught him ? 
 
 Despite pain and weakness, Wayne hobbles out to 
 where Sergeant Roach is still watching and asks for 
 tidings. 
 
 " I can't be sure, captain ; one thing's certain, the 
 lieutenant rode like a gale. I could follow the shots a 
 full half-mile up the valley, where they seemed to grow 
 thicker, and then stop all of a sudden in the midst of 
 the row that was made down here. They've either 
 given it up and have a big party out in chase, or else 
 they've got him. God knows which. If they've got 
 him, there'll be a scalp-dance over there in a few min 
 utes, curse them !" And the sergeant choked. 
 
 Wayne watched some ten minutes without avail. 
 Nothing further was seen or heard that night to indicate 
 K 19
 
 218 MARION'S FAITH. ' 
 
 what had happened to Kay except once. Far up the 
 valley he saw a couple of flashes among the bluffs, so 
 did Roach, and that gave him hope that Dandy had 
 carried his master in safety that far at least. 
 
 He crept back to the bank and cheered the wounded 
 with the news of what he had seen. Then another 
 word came in ere long. An old sergeant had crawled 
 out to the front, and could hear something of the shout 
 ing and talking of the Indians. He could understand 
 few words only, though he had lived among the Chey- 
 ennes nearly five years. They can barely understand 
 one another in the dark, and use incessant gesticulation 
 to interpret their own speech ; but the sergeant gathered 
 that they were upbraiding somebody for not guarding 
 a coulee, and inferred that some one had slipped past 
 their pickets or they wouldn't be making such a row. 
 
 That the Cheyennes did not propose to let the be 
 sieged derive much comfort from their hopes was soon 
 apparent. Out from the timber up the stream came 
 sonorous voices shouting taunt and challenge, inter 
 mingled with the vilest expletives they had picked up 
 from their cowboy neighbors, and all the frontier slang 
 in the Cheyenne vocabulary. 
 
 " Hullo ! sogers ; come out some more times. We 
 no shoot. Stay there : we come plenty quick. Hullo ! 
 white chief, come fight fair ; soger heap 'fraid ! Come, 
 have scalp-dance plenty quick. Catch white soldier ; 
 eat him heart bime by." 
 
 " Ah, go to your grandmother, the ould witch in hell, 
 ye musthard-sthriped convict !" sings out some irrepres 
 sible Paddy in reply, and Wayne, who is disposed to 
 serious thoughts, would order silence, but it occurs to
 
 RAFS RIDE FOR LIFE. 219 
 
 him that Mulligan's crude sallies have a tendency to 
 keep the men lively. 
 
 " I can't believe they've got him," he whispers to the 
 doctor. " If they had they would soon recognize him 
 as an officer and come bawling out their triumph at 
 bagging a chief. His watch, his shoes, his spurs, his 
 underclothing, would all betray that he was an officer, 
 though he hasn't a vestige of uniform. Pray God he 
 is safe !" 
 
 Will you follow Ray and see ? Curiosity is what 
 lures the fleetest deer to death, and a more dangerous 
 path than that which Ray has taken one rarely follows. 
 Will you try it, reader ? -just you and I ? Come on, 
 then. We'll see what our Kentucky boy " got in the 
 draw," as he would put it. 
 
 Ray's footfall is soft as a kitten's as he creeps out 
 upon the prairie ; Dandy stepping gingerly after him, 
 wondering but obedient. For over a hundred yards he 
 goes, until both up- and down-stream he can almost see 
 the faint fires of the Indians in the timber. Farther 
 out he can hear hoof-beats and voices, so he edges along 
 westward until he comes suddenly to a depression, a 
 little winding " cooley" across the prairie, through which 
 in the early spring the snows are carried off from some 
 ravine among the bluffs. Into this he noiselessly feels 
 his way and Dandy follows. He creeps along to his 
 left and finds that its general course is from the south 
 west. He knows well that the best way to watch for 
 objects in the darkness is to lie flat on low ground so 
 that everything approaching may be thrown against 
 the sky. His plainscraft tells him that by keeping in 
 the water-course he will be less apt to be seen, but will
 
 220 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 surely come across some lurking Indians. That he ex 
 pects. The thing is to get as far through them as possi 
 ble before being seen or heard, then mount and away. 
 After another two minutes' creeping he peers over the 
 western bank. Now the fires up-stream can be seen iu 
 the timber, and dim, shadowy forms pass and repass. 
 Then close at hand come voices and hoof-beats. Dandy 
 pricks up his ears and wants to neigh, but Ray grips 
 his nostrils like a vice, and Dandy desists. At rapid 
 lope, within twenty yards, a party of half a dozen war 
 riors go bounding past on their way down the valley, 
 and no sooner have they crossed the gulley than he rises 
 and rapidly pushes on up the dry sandy bed. Thank 
 heaven ! there are no stones. A minute more and 
 he is crawling again, for the hoof-beats no longer drown 
 the faint sound of Dandy's movements. A few seconds 
 more and right in front of him, not a stone's throw 
 away, he hears the deep tones of Indian voices in con 
 versation. Whoever they may be they are in the 
 " cooley" and watching the prairie. They can see noth 
 ing of him, nor he of them. Pass them in the ten-foot- 
 wide ravine he cannot. He must go back a short dis 
 tance, make a sweep to the east so as not to go between 
 those watchers and the guiding fires, then trust to luck. 
 Turning stealthily he brings Dandy around, leads back 
 down the ravine for some thirty yards, then turns to his 
 horse, pats him gently one minute, " Do your prettiest 
 for your colors, my boy," he whispers ; springs lightly, 
 noiselessly to his back, and at cautious walk comes up 
 on the level prairie, with the timber behind him three 
 hundred yards away. Southward he can see the dim 
 outline of the bluffs. Westward once that little arroya
 
 " 
 
 RATS RIDE FOR LIFE. 221 
 
 is crossed, he knows the prairie to be level and unim 
 peded, fit for a race ; but he needs to make a detour to 
 pass the Indians guarding it, get way beyond them, 
 cross it to the west far behind them, and then look out 
 for stray parties. Dandy ambles lightly along, eager 
 for fun and little appreciating the danger. Ray bends 
 down on his neck, intent with eye and ear. He feels 
 that he has got well out east of the Indian picket 
 unchallenged, when suddenly voices and hoofs come 
 bounding up the valley from below. He must cross their 
 front, reach the ravine before them, and strike the 
 prairie beyond. " Go, Dandy !" he mutters with gentle 
 pressure of leg, and the sorrel bounds lightly away, cir 
 cling southwestward under the guiding rein. Another 
 minute and he is at the arroya and cautiously descend 
 ing, then scrambling up the west bank, and then from 
 the darkness comes savage challenge, a sputter of pony 
 hoofs. Ray bends low and gives Dandy one vigorous 
 prod with the spur, and with muttered prayer and 
 clinched teeth and fists he leaps into the wildest race 
 for his life. 
 
 Bang ! bang ! go two shots close behind him. 
 Crack ! goes his pistol at , dusky form closing in on 
 his right. Then come yells, shots, the uproar of hoofs, 
 the distant cheer and charge at camp, a breathless dash 
 for and close along under the bluffs where his form 
 is best concealed, a whirl to the left into the first ravine 
 that shows itself, and despite shots and shouts and nim 
 ble ponies and vengeful foes, the Sanford colors are 
 riding far to the front, and all the racers of the reser 
 vations cannot overhaul them. 
 
 19*
 
 222 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 
 
 THE short July night wears rapidly away in the high 
 latitudes of the Northwest. It is barely dark at nine, 
 and in six hours 
 
 " Morn, in the white wake of the morning star, 
 Comes furrowing all the Orient into gold." 
 
 Yet the night wears wearily, watchfully away in the 
 bivouac down among the cottonwoods south of the 
 Black Hills. Exhausted with the excitement and 
 fatigue of the day, some few men sleep fitfully at 
 times, and other few doze once in a while among the 
 watchers. All the livelong night there is jubilee 
 among the Indians above and below. They keep up 
 their howlings and war-dances in prospective triumph, 
 for, so far as they can learn, they have done no more 
 damage to the soldiers than the killing of a few horses 
 and the wounding of some half a dozen men. Their 
 own loss has been greater than that, and there is mourn 
 ing for some of the braves slain in the combat of the 
 day. They know that escape is impossible to the sol 
 diers. They feel that with another day they can wear 
 out the besieged ; tempt them into firing off their am 
 munition, and, if they can only keep off their friends, 
 the regiment, they have them sure.
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 223 
 
 All the same it is pleasing to Indian ideas of humor 
 to keep up a delusion among the besieged of having 
 captured their messenger. We know Ray is safely off, 
 but Wayne and his men have no such comfort, for, for 
 hours the Indians shout their taunts of " Catch white 
 soger ; eat 'um heart," and in their deep anxieties many 
 of the men seem ready to believe it. To tell the truth, 
 Wayne has hard work keeping up the pluck and spirits 
 of some of the men, and towards morning the suffer 
 ings of the wounded are more than he can bear. Every 
 little while the roystering Indians send a rattling fusil 
 lade in among the timbers, but do no great damage 
 beyond making people uncomfortable. Some of them 
 crawl close to the lines of sentries, but find nothing to 
 encourage further inspection or advance. But Dana 
 begs to be lifted in his blanket and carried some dis 
 tance up-stream, where he can lie on the sand and get 
 away from the sound of others' suffering, and Wayne 
 and Hunter, with two or three men, bear him thither, 
 and there, under the starlight and the waning moon, 
 they lie at full length and softly talk over the situation. 
 There is no disguising the truth. Their condition is 
 most precarious : hemmed in on every side ; ammuni 
 tion almost gone, thanks to the reckless extravagance 
 of the men in twelve hours' fighting, their only hope 
 lies in Ray's reaching the th that night and " rout 
 ing out" the whole command for a dash to the rescue. 
 They never dreamed, poor fellows, that Ray would 
 never find the th where they left it. All hope would 
 have died had they known their comrades had gone. 
 
 Yet that very circumstance stands at this moment in 
 their favor. The Cheyennes had learned with huge
 
 224 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 delight that the strange soldiers had marched off west 
 ward, apparently abandoning that watch near the res 
 ervations, and leaving it safe for them to scurry forth 
 with bag and baggage, with women and children, on 
 their rush for freedom and Sitting Bull. 
 
 Sighting this little detachment of soldiers venturing 
 on down the valley instead of hurrying back, they had 
 signalled all over the country calling in war-parties to 
 their aid, and formulated their scheme to ambuscade and 
 " corral" it at the narrows of the valley ; but Ray's vigi 
 lance and plainscraft had defeated that scheme ; though 
 they had good chances yet, if they only knew where 
 the regiment had gone. Late the previous evening it 
 had disappeared behind a prominent headland far up a 
 valley farther to the south, and probably had there 
 gone into camp for the night. Late this night they get 
 the news that gives rise to vast speculation and some 
 genuine anxiety. Runners come in who say that instead 
 of camping there, the White Chief rode all night; 
 turned northward soon as it was dark ; crossed this 
 very valley far above them at dawn, and where he went 
 from there they couldn't say. They dare not follow. 
 Was it possible the White Chief was going to beat 
 them at their own tactics ? Could it be that he was 
 going to head them off? attack them in the early 
 morning far to the northwest ? Lying on the ground, 
 the officers heard many hoof-beats dying away in the 
 distance, and wondered what it might mean. It meant 
 that some fifty of their foemen had galloped away to 
 look for their families and the rest of the band, and 
 warn them of the new danger. It was more than 
 certain that no help could come to the soldiers in the
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 225 
 
 valley ; but they must guard their people against this 
 mysterious move. At daybreak those left behind 
 would resume the effort to dislodge the soldiers, and 
 then there would be a revel. 
 
 And daybreak comes all too soon. Far to the east 
 the stars are paling, and a grayish veil rises slowly 
 from the horizon. One by one the night-lamps in the 
 heavens lose their sparkle and radiance, as the filament 
 of the dawn shrouds and stifles them. Far down the 
 valley tumbling outlines of ridge and height are carved 
 out in sharper relief against the lightening sky. There 
 is a stir in the leaves o'erhead and the soft rustle of 
 the morning breeze. Presently the pallid veil at the 
 east takes on a purplish blush, that is changing every 
 instant to a ruddier hue. Faces are beginning to be 
 dimly visible in the groups of defenders, pinched and 
 drawn and cold in the nipping air, and Wayne notes 
 with a half sob how blue poor Dana's lips are. The 
 boy's thoughts are far away. Is he wandering ? Is it 
 fever already ? 
 
 His eyes are closed, and he whispered to himself but 
 a moment ago. Hunter is taking a cat-nap. Wayne 
 is too anxious, too unhappy to sleep, and his wound is 
 stiff and painful. A veteran first sergeant comes creep 
 ing up to them for orders, and they are brief enough : 
 
 " Don't let the men waste a shot. It's our only hope 
 of holding out until help can come. They'll be on us 
 again soon as it is fairly light." 
 
 " Captain," whispers Dana, " have you been awake 
 all the time?" 
 
 "Yes, lad. Why?" 
 
 " Have you heard nothing, no signal ?" 
 P
 
 226 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Nothing ; not a sound. Why do you ask ?" 
 
 " I'm afraid I've been only dreaming ; yet I thought, 
 I surely thought a while ago I heard a trumpet-call, 
 far away far out on the prairie." 
 
 "Which way, Dana?" 
 
 " Off to the southwest. I didn't like to speak of it, 
 but I thought I heard it twice." 
 
 " If Ray got through all right that's where the th 
 should be coming from. It may be, Dana. It may 
 be, for they'd lose no time, though Ray thought six 
 would be the earliest hour at which he could fetch 
 them even at a trot. It's only about three now, or a 
 little after. I'll put men on watch and have them 
 listen. Go and bring the trumpeter to me," he said, to 
 one of the men. 
 
 The light grows broader every moment. Already 
 forms can be dimly distinguished up and down the 
 stream-bed, and mounted Indians darting about out on 
 the prairie. A sergeant comes up to the group of 
 officers with quiet salute : 
 
 " Those fellows up-stream are getting ready, captain. 
 Several of them mounted a few minutes ago and rode 
 away rapidly towards the southwest. I saw others out 
 on the prairie heading over to the bluffs. They seemed 
 excited-like, and looked to be in full fighting trim." 
 
 Dana's eyes light with eager hope. 
 
 " Captain, they heard what I did. Some of our fel 
 lows are off there, taking short cut across country to 
 find us, and are signalling with their trumpets. Let 
 us go farther out, to the prairie. I'm sure I heard it, 
 and we can answer." 
 
 Almost broad daylight now, though it is long before
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 227 
 
 sun-up, but in very short time Wayne, Dana, and the 
 trumpeter are crouching just at the edge of the timber, 
 listening, listening, while a prayer goes up with every 
 heart-beat. 
 
 At last Dana's weakness tells upon him. He sinks 
 down at the bottom of a tree exhausted, but his ears 
 are still alert. Suddenly he springs again to his knee. 
 " There ! for God's sake listen. What is that?" 
 
 And far, far out to the southwest, far beyond the line 
 of bluffs, there rises upon the still morning air soft, 
 clear, floating, and oh ! sweeter than the harmonies of 
 seraphs, the quick, joyous notes of officer's call. Oh, 
 heaven ! was ever reveille so blessed ? 
 
 " Up with you, Rheinhart ! Answer them ! Blow 
 your whole soul into it, but make 'em hear !" shouts 
 Wayne; and the burly young Prussian rolls over on 
 his back, braces his copper clarion at his lips, and 
 rouses the echoes of the valley with the ringing, jubi 
 lant, pealing reply. None of the dolorous business of 
 Roland at Roncesvalles about Rheinhart's performance 
 this time ! It is like the bugle-horn of Roderick vich 
 Alpine Dhu, 
 
 " One blast were worth a thousand men." 
 
 From rifle-pit and stunted log, from shore to shore, 
 the timber leaps into life and rings with the triumphant 
 cheers of the besieged. 
 
 " Down with you, you idiots ! back to your holes !" 
 yell the officers, none too soon, for with vengeful howls 
 every Indian in the valley seems at the instant to open 
 fire, and once more the little command is encircled by 
 the cordon of savage sharpshooters. Holding their
 
 228 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 own fire except where some rabid young foeman too 
 daringly exposes himself, the men wait and listen. 
 Little by little the fury of the attack draws away, and 
 only scattering shots annoy them. They can see, 
 though, that already many Indians are mounting and 
 scurrying off to the north side of the valley, though 
 plenty remain in the timber to keep vigilant watch 
 over their every move. Hunter begs permission to 
 mount and move out with twenty men to guide the 
 rescuers, but there is no ammunition to warrant it. 
 All men are needed just where they are. Scattering 
 shots keep coming in ; the yells of the Indians still con 
 tinue ; the trumpeter raises a lusty blast from time to 
 time, but officers and men are again all eagerly listen 
 ing. 
 
 " They're coming ! they're coming !" is next the cry, 
 for distant shots are heard, then the thunder of hoofs, 
 the shouts and yells of excited Indians ; then warrior 
 after warrior comes darting back over the bluffs at the 
 south, springing from his pony at the crest, as though 
 for one more shot at rapidly-advancing foe ; more shots 
 and yells; a trumpet-blare, and then, then ringing 
 like clarion over the turmoil of the fight, echoing far 
 across the still valley, the sound of a glorious voice 
 shouting the well-known words of command, " Left 
 front into line gallop !" And Dana can hold in no 
 longer. Almost sobbing, he cries aloud, 
 
 " Jack Truscott, by all that's glorious ! I'd know 
 the voice among a million !" 
 
 Who in the th would not? Who in the old 
 regiment had not leaped at its summons time and 
 again ? Who that was there will ever forget the scene,
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 229 
 
 the welcome those wellnigh hopeless fellows give it 
 now ? Dana's men break from their cover, and cheer 
 ing madly, go dashing through the timber towards their 
 persecutors of the day before. Hunter's skirmishers 
 push eastward through the trees for one more crack at 
 the besiegers. Others cheering too, yet spell-bound 
 cling to the spot, and go wild with joy as the long blue 
 line comes flashing into view across the bluffs from the 
 south, the just rising sun flaming at their crests and 
 tinting the wild war-bonnets of the foe, who go tum 
 bling and scurrying away before them ; and their old 
 adjutant comes thundering down the slopes with ninety 
 splendid troopers at his heels, sweeping the valley of 
 their late humiliation, riding home to the rescue. 
 
 Fired by the sight, some of Wayne's men seize their 
 saddles and throw them on their excited steeds, but 
 before they can mount Truscott's men are whirling up 
 and down the valley, driving the few remaining war 
 riors to the other side, and leaving some wounded 
 ponies and two bedizened braves prone upon the 
 prairies. Quickly the leader comes darting through 
 the timber with hearty, yet laughing, greeting for 
 Wayne, and a wave of the hand to the cheering group. 
 There is no time for compliments now. Out go the 
 skirmishers across the river bottom, through the trees, 
 and spinning away across the valley northward, whirl 
 ing the Cheyennes before them until they are driven 
 to the bluffs. Then, as the "halt" is sounded, and 
 the vigilant line forms big semicircle to ward off 
 further attack, and the little pack-mules with their 
 escort come ambling briskly in from the south, Jack 
 Truscott comes quietly back, lifting his broad-brimmed 
 
 20
 
 230 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 scouting-hat and wiping the sweat from his brow ; and 
 as they throng about him officers and men almost 
 the first question asked is, 
 
 " And where is Kay ?" 
 
 " Safe, but badly wounded." 
 
 And then little by little the story was told. But for 
 Ray no rescue could have come. The regiment was 
 miles away across country. Truscott's squadron had 
 reached their late camp the previous evening to find 
 them gone. There was a stockade there, where, with 
 underground defences and stout palings, a little com 
 pany of infantry stood guard over a lot of ammunition 
 and supplies. They found there the sick and two 
 wounded of the regiment, a doctor and some scouts 
 who had backed out of going, and they also found a 
 letter to Truscott from the colonel commanding, telling 
 him that Wayne ought to be somewhere west of him 
 up the next valley, to push on and join him, and then 
 together they would be strong enough to ride through 
 the Cheyenne trails and find the regiment. Fearing 
 that Wayne would get too far up the valley, Truscott 
 decided to make a night march due north and strike it 
 some distance up-stream. From four P.M. until eleven 
 they had rested, then had coffee, fed the horses, and 
 started. Somewhere about one o'clock through the dim 
 light of the waning moon they caught sight of a 
 mounted man rapidly nearing them from the east, and 
 heard the whinny of a horse. That was enough to 
 prove 'twas no Indian. Who could it be? One or 
 two flarikers galloped to meet him, and the next thing 
 a sergeant came rushing to Truscott at the head of 
 column.
 
 RESCUE AT DAWN. 231 
 
 " My God ! captain, it's Loot'nant Ray, an' he's 
 most dead." 
 
 In an instant Truscott had halted the command and 
 was at the side of his old friend, whom the men had 
 lowered, weak and faint, to the ground. The surgeon 
 came, administered stimulant, examined and rebound 
 his wound ; a bullet had torn through the right thigh, 
 and he had bled fearfully, but all he seemed to think 
 of was the errand on which he came. In few words 
 he told of Wayne's position, pointed out the shortest 
 way, and bade them be off at once. Three men were 
 left with him, one galloped back to the station for an 
 ambulance and the hospital attendant there, and with 
 his faint blessing and " good luck to you, fellows !" 
 Ray had sent them at lively lope bound for the valley 
 and the rescue. There were men that July morning 
 who hid their heads to hide their tears as Truscott 
 quietly told of Ray's heroism and suffering, his narrow 
 escape, his imminent dangers, all met and borne that 
 they might live. There were others who cared not if 
 their tears were seen. There was no one there who 
 did not vow that it would go hard with him if ever 
 man ventured to malign Billy Ray in his presence ; but 
 there was no one there who dreamed that even while 
 daring death to save them the man whose praise was 
 on every lip stood bitterly in need of friends, that 
 blackest calumny, that lowest intrigue, had conspired to 
 pull him down-. 
 
 It was a week before the four companies rejoined the 
 th, and the reunited regiment pushed northwestward 
 towards the Big Horn Mountains ; but by that time Ray 
 with other wounded was being carefully wheeled back
 
 232 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 to Russell, where the news of his heroic exploit had pre 
 ceded him, and where widely different feelings had there 
 by been excited. One household heard it as it will never 
 be forgotten. Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford were 
 just seating themselves at breakfast one bright morn 
 ing, when Mrs. Stannard came rushing in all aglow 
 with mingled excitement and emotion. 
 
 " Hurrah for the Sanford colors !" she cried. " Read 
 that ! I cannot, I cannot !" And throwing them a long 
 despatch, she astonished her next-door neighbors by 
 fairly bursting into tears. 
 
 It was with difficulty that the ladies could recover 
 composure in time for the inevitable visit that they 
 knew must come from Mrs. Whaling, and did come at 
 ten o'clock. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 
 
 SOME strange things had been happening at Russell. 
 Among others the midnight serenade at Mrs. Truscott's 
 had been repeated. Miss Sanford and Mrs. Truscott 
 both heard it this time, and when Mrs. Truscott would 
 have gone to the window to peep and see who it was 
 who sang so delightfully, Miss Sanford restrained her, 
 quietly saying that this was his second visit, and she 
 knew it to be Sergeant Wolf. Mrs. Turner and other 
 ladies, eagerly and naturally curious to find out who it 
 was that serenaded one house in the garrison twice, and 
 similarly honored no others, had plied Mrs. Truscott
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE XEWS. 233 
 
 with questions. It was agreed that they should tell 
 Mrs. Stannard and seek her advice, but avoid all talk 
 with others. Such resolutions are all very well, but 
 rather impracticable in view of the indomitable energy 
 with which the sex will pursue a train of inquiry. It 
 was delightfully romantic, said the ladies, delightfully 
 sensational some of them thought, and their theory was 
 that some one must be paying his devotions in this way 
 to Miss Sanford, which would account for his total ob- 
 liviousness to the charms of others married and single. 
 Mr. Gleason, when first questioned, had assumed that 
 air of conscious negation, of confirmatory disclaimer, 
 which is calculated to impress the hearer with the be 
 lief that, despite denial, he was deserving the soft im 
 peachment. Gleason would gladly have assumed the 
 responsibility. For a whole day he was the hero, to 
 many feminine minds, of the serenades, and the recipi 
 ent of a dozen warm invitations to come and sing for 
 them that evening ; but before nightfall one theory re 
 ceived a shock which was followed in an hour by an 
 other. The first was when Mrs. Whaling placidly 
 asserted that she knew all about the serenades. That 
 while the supposed unknown had honored Miss San- 
 ford's window twice, it was getting to be an old story 
 at the colonel's, as the troubadour had appeared under 
 her Cecilia's window almost every night for oh, she 
 didn't know how long. Cecilia had blushingly con 
 fessed that morning, and she, Mrs. Whaling, had fre 
 quently heard his tinkling guitar and sweet tenor at odd 
 times. Now, among the infantry ladies it was an older 
 story that fair Cecilia had a way of arrogating to her 
 self attentions never intended for her, and of having a 
 
 20*
 
 234 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 fertility of invention which enabled her at a moment's 
 notice to discount any story of devotions to another 
 girl with exuberant descriptions of others more intense 
 of which she was the prior object. Any statement of 
 her sainted child was promptly backed by her adoring 
 mother, and, well, there was disbelief, not loud but 
 deep, of this statement among the infantry ladies. As 
 for " ours," Mrs. Stannard listened in silence but 
 with glistening eyes ; Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford 
 with evident relief; Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Wilkins 
 with exclamatory interest. 
 
 The second shock came when a party of ladies, Miss 
 Cecilia Whaling being of the number, alluded to Mr. 
 Gleason as the probable Maurico, and this for the pur 
 pose of "drawing out" Mrs. Turner. "Nonsense!" 
 said Mrs. Turner. " Mr. Gleason has no more voice 
 than a frog. He thinks he can sing, but you just 
 ought to hear him." 
 
 " Why, but, Mrs. Turner" said one of the fair ad 
 vocates, eager to sustain the theory she advanced, " Mr. 
 Gleason as much as admitted that he was the man." 
 
 " He ? of course he would ! Mr. Gleason imagines 
 there is no accomplishment he does not possess. If you 
 need conviction ask him to sing." 
 
 Ah, me ! And this was the same lady who so ve 
 hemently stood up for Gleason in the days when he was 
 her devotee before she discovered that poker had at 
 tractions for him before which her own could but " pale 
 their ineffectual fires. Tantsene animis ccelestibm irse ?" 
 
 If it wasn't Gleason, then, who was it? That was 
 what the ladies demanded to know, Mrs. Turner and 
 Mrs. Wilkins being- as determined as their sisters of
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 235 
 
 the infantry. It was evident all too soon that the sub 
 ject annoyed and embarrassed Mrs. Truscott. She 
 colored painfully when it was mentioned in her pres 
 ence. This only whetted the zeal and inquisitiveness 
 of the inquisitors. In one form or other it was con 
 stantly being brought up in her presence, and her every 
 look and gesture was narrowly scanned. Mrs. Turner 
 grew wild with curiosity. Here was a mystery indeed ! 
 From Mrs. Stannard she could extract nothing. From 
 Miss Sanford she received smiling, gracious treatment 
 at all times, but nothing tangible in the way of infor 
 mation. She almost made up her mind to be gracious 
 to Mr. Gleason, to be enticing, in fact ; but before her 
 wiles could take effect other developments had rendered 
 that course impracticable. 
 
 Gleason himself, as we have seen, had taken prompt 
 measures to satisfy himself as to the identity of the 
 serenader. His next step was to institute inquiries as 
 to just what was meant by these demonstrations on part 
 of the sergeant. Insidious questions were propounded 
 to Mrs. Stannard, Mrs. Truscott, and Miss Sanford, 
 only to mystify him the more. They would say noth 
 ing to enlighten him ; but he plainly saw that each one 
 of the three was conscious that Wolf was the midnight 
 visitor, and that two of the three were in possession of 
 knowledge with regard to the mysterious soldier which 
 he could not fathom. He took to studying "Wolf; sent 
 for him frequently ; had long talks with him ostensibly 
 as to his duties with recruits, but began to " draw him 
 out" as to his past. All he could learn was that he had 
 come to this country determined to enlist, had served a 
 few months with Truscott at the Point, and had secured
 
 236 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 a transfer because he wanted active service. He de 
 clined to tell what had been his connections or his life 
 before coming to our shores, but he was evidently a man 
 of education and refinement; he was an admirable 
 horseman, swordsman, and drill-master; he had evi 
 dently been trained for the military profession. Now, 
 how was it that he had so readily acceded- to the detail 
 which kept him on duty at Russell, when, if he so 
 wanted active service, he could have been sent with the 
 regiment? Gleason's one interpretation of that was 
 that the sergeant " loved, alas, above his station." It 
 behooved him now to find out which of the ladies at 
 Truscott's had inspired this romantic passion. It oc 
 curred to him that the discovery might be made very 
 useful. He was plainly losing ground there. Invita 
 tions to tea and dinner had not been forthcoming since 
 Truscott's squadron marched away, and his efforts to 
 see Miss Sanford alone had been frustrated. Having 
 secured the detail which kept him at the post while 
 the regiment was out roughing it, he relaxed the assi 
 duity of his attentions to Mrs. Whaling, but kept up his 
 hand with the old colonel througli the medium of pool 
 and billiards, though he lost less frequently. He was 
 always having confidential chats with the colonel, and 
 when Captain Buxton came through on his way to 
 catch the regiment, three days after Ray's departure, 
 Gleason took him to see the colonel, and the three were 
 closeted for some time together. It worried Mrs. Stan- 
 nard, who felt sure there was mischief brewing, and she 
 so wrote to the major, who tackled Buxton the moment 
 he joined with questions about Ray, and Buxton was 
 dumb as Sam Weller's drum with a hole in it. Ray
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 237 
 
 was there and "chipper" as a cricket. Everybody 
 noted how blithe, buoyant, and energetic he was, but 
 this very trait prevented Stannard's having more than 
 one talk with him before the separation of Wayne's 
 command from the regiment. Ray was off on scouts 
 from morn till night. Stannard frankly told him how 
 worried he had been, and Ray looked amazed, declaring 
 he had never been more temperate, and that his accounts 
 were straight as a string. He had played billiards but 
 had not touched a card. 
 
 When told of the allegation that he had been inces 
 santly with Rallston, and had cut loose from Buxton 
 and Gleason, Ray replied that it was incomprehensible 
 to him how any man who knew Buxton and Gleason 
 could blame him for that. He never spoke to Gleason, 
 and as the two were always together, he had no wish to 
 embarrass their good times. He was with Rallston, his 
 brother-in-law, who had been most kind, hospitable, 
 and jolly ; but Ray went on to say he found that Ralls 
 ton tried to be sharp in palming off some inferior horses 
 upon them, and he had blocked it. This had caused a 
 " split," so to speak, but nothing of consequence, as he 
 had immediately started to rejoin. More than this 
 there was no time to talk of. Ray went with Wayne, 
 Stannard with the th, and they saw nothing more of 
 each other for many a long day. Meantime, Gleason 
 was getting in his work. Stannard had written briefly 
 to his wife to tell her what Ray had said, but she was 
 a keen judge of character, and she could not but note 
 the reticence and evident embarrassment of the young 
 adjutant at Russell a courteous and high-minded fel 
 low whenever she mentioned Ray's name.
 
 238 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Failing in his effort to extract information from Ser 
 geant Wolf, Gleason changed his methods. He began 
 worrying him, restricting his movements in various 
 ways, and hampering him with corrections and sug 
 gestions. One day a bandsman, who was excellent as 
 a clarionet- and violin-player, took his discharge-papers 
 on expiration of term of service, and the bandmaster 
 appeared at the adjutant's office with Sergeant Wolf to 
 announce that the sergeant was even a better musician 
 than the discharged man, and was desirous of giving 
 up his " lance" rank and entering the band. Colonel 
 Whaling and his adjutant were delighted to make a 
 temporary transfer to meet the case and to write to 
 Mr. Billings for regimental sanction. All too late, 
 Gleason heard of and tried to stop it. It took Wolf 
 out of his control and compelled him to resort to 
 watching him. He had so palpably given it to be 
 understood that he was the sweet singer who had en 
 tranced the garrison in his midnight serenades that 
 Gleason now felt he could not go to the adjutant and 
 tell him that Wolf was the man, and that he must pen 
 him up at night. Indeed, he rather wanted to have 
 more of the serenading. He sniffed a scandal, and in 
 his resentment at Mrs. Truscott's evident avoidance of 
 him and Miss Sanford's serene indifference, he was 
 beginning to feel that he could welcome anything that 
 would besmirch their names or cloud their domestic 
 peace. From his soldier servant he learned that Wolf 
 spent hours in writing letters, most of which he burned 
 or tore up ; that he held himself aloof from the bands 
 men, and was trying to get a little room to himself. 
 Every night when he was officer of the day, and occa-
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 939 
 
 sionally when he was not, Gleason patrolled that back 
 fence in search of Wolf, and one night he was rewarded. 
 He sprang suddenly from his hiding-place, and the 
 soldier turned and ran like a deer, distancing Gleasou 
 in no time ; but in his flight he had dropped a letter. 
 Gleason could hardly believe his eyes when he saw it 
 lying there upon the ground. It bore no superscrip 
 tion, but in three minutes the lieutenant had rushed to 
 his quarters, locked the doors, and shut himself up with 
 his prize. The family next door was startled by the 
 shout of triumph and delight with which he read the 
 last lines. He almost kissed the letter in his ecstasy. 
 He hardly slept that night from excitement, and it was 
 the very next morning that Russell was electrified by 
 the telegraphic news that the th had had sharp fight 
 ing ; that the main body of the regiment, early in the 
 morning three days previous, had met and driven back 
 to the reservation a large force of Cheyennes seeking 
 to join Sitting Bull ; that Captain Wayne's squadron 
 had been surrounded and cut off by others of the same 
 tribe, and rescued by Truscott's squadron at the same 
 instant that the fight was going on at the War Bonnet ; 
 that Wayne's people would undoubtedly have been 
 massacred to a man as their ammunition was spent 
 but for the heroism of Ray, who had run the gauntlet 
 through the Cheyennes all alone in the darkness, found 
 Truscott's squadron going rapidly away in another 
 direction, turned him to the rescue just in the nick of 
 time, and now, weak and wounded, was being sent in 
 to Russell; that there had been several men killed, 
 quite a number wounded, and that among these latter 
 were Blake, Wayne, and Dana ; and that Blake, too,
 
 240 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 would be sent to Russell. Further particulars came 
 every hour or two. Every report had something ad 
 ditional to say of Ray's valor, and though he ground 
 his teeth in rage at the thought of Ray's temporary 
 exaltation, Gleason was philosopher enough to know 
 that- no man was long a hero in garrison life, and so 
 took advantage of the excitement to go and besiege the 
 ladies with congratulations. How could they exclude 
 him at such a time ? Grace was in an ecstasy of pride 
 and joy over her Jack's splendid charge, and Marion 
 Sanford, who gloried in deeds of valor, sat wondering 
 if it were really true that she knew the man whose 
 name was on every lip, gallant, daring Ray, that 
 that even then, as Truscott wired them, he never forgot 
 he was riding for her colors. 
 
 But it was delicious to hear Gleason : " I cannot 
 rejoice too much, ladies, that it was the troop I so long 
 commanded that made the decisive charge. They have 
 fulfilled my highest expectations," was an oft repeated 
 remark. And when Mrs. Whaling came the second 
 time to dispense tearful felicitations, she found him 
 ready to say amen to her pious suggestions that they 
 should unite hi praise and prayer to the Throne of 
 Mercy. 
 
 The man was indeed 
 
 " A rogue in grain, 
 Veneered with sanctimonious theory." 
 
 They Grace and Marion had early fled to their 
 rooms and knelt in overwhelming gratitude to thank 
 the God they worshipped for the mercy vouchsafed to
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 241 
 
 those so near to them. He the two-faced villain 
 held in his pocket at that moment the letter with which 
 he meant to crush the woman who had dared to hold 
 him aloof. 
 
 As yet, however, he had no intention of immediately 
 using it. For the time being, the general rejoicing 
 among the ladies made it possible for even ;i shirk like 
 Gleason to be among them a good deal. They could 
 talk of nothing but how splendid it was to be with the 
 regiment, and how admirably this or that officer had 
 behaved, and one would suppose that such conversation 
 would have been galling to an able-bodied listener ; but 
 that pachydermatous quality, to which allusion has 
 been made, stood Gleason in good stead. He smiled 
 serenely at all their shafts, and spoke of the deeds of 
 the regiment quite as though he had been an active 
 participant. He hung around Truscott's quarters a 
 good deal, bringing all manner of trivial items of news 
 from time to time, and even manufacturing them that 
 he might have an excuse to see the ladies. He was so 
 constantly there on pretext after pretext that he overdid 
 the matter, annoyed both the ladies by his persistency 
 and his covert allusions to Wolf and occasional flings 
 at Ray. They begged Mrs. Stannard to devise means 
 to rid them of him at last ; and one afternoon when he 
 appeared at the door and walked past the servant into 
 the hall, as was his custom, the maid had twice to 
 repeat, 
 
 "The ladies beg to be excused," before he would 
 hear it. 
 
 " Say to Mrs. Truscott, with my compliments, that 
 I have some further news of the regiment," he said, 
 
 L q 21
 
 242 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 in a voice he knew would penetrate the rooms on the 
 second floor, and it did ; but Mrs. Stannard was there. 
 He had already called and spent an hour that very 
 morning, and the ladies had determined to check it. 
 
 " Mrs. Truscott's compliments," said the maid, smil 
 ingly, as she came tripping down the 'stairs. "The 
 ladies are lying down, and would he please leave word. 
 If it was anything important, of course Mrs. Truscott 
 would come." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Gleason, loudly ; " say I'll call this 
 evening after retreat." 
 
 But when he came they were all on the piazza, Mrs. 
 Stannard, too, and he knew that he could not be too 
 careful what tidings or rumors he manufactured in her 
 presence. Again, on the following morning, he pre 
 sented himself with similar plea. This time the ladies 
 begged to be excused. 
 
 " Will you say to Miss Sanford that I would greatly 
 like to see her a few minutes?" he persisted. And 
 then Miss Sanford came to head of the stairs, no fur 
 ther. 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Gleason ? I cannot come down," 
 she said, very civilly, but uncompromising for all that. 
 
 " Er I hoped you felt like er taking a walk or 
 something." 
 
 " Thanks, Mr. Gleason. I am too busy to-day." 
 
 "Well, shall we say to-morrow, then?" he perse 
 vered. 
 
 " To-morrow I go riding with Mrs. Stannard." 
 
 " Do you ? What time ? Perhaps I can arrange to 
 take a gallop at the same hour. You've never ridden 
 with me yet." (Reproachfully.)
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 243 
 
 " You will have to ask Mrs. Stannard. Now, Mr. 
 Gleason, I must go back to my desk. Good-morning." 
 And she vanished, sweet and smiling, and he " went 
 off mad," swearing mad. 
 
 That very afternoon an ambulance arrived from 
 Laramie with Ray. Oh, what a jubilee they had ! 
 and how those women fluttered around him as he sat in 
 a low reclining-chair on the piazza of the quarters 
 made ready for him ! A young assistant surgeon was 
 with him, whom Ray cajoled and bullied alternately ; 
 called him such military pet names as " Pills/' 
 " Squills," and " Sawbones" whenever he had occasion 
 to address him ; laughed him out of all his feeble pro 
 tests against " exciting himself," and bade him reserve 
 his ministrations for Blake, who would be in on the 
 morrow. The evening he came, after he had been 
 shaved and bathed and rebandaged, and had his hair 
 trimmed, and had donned a very swell brand-new 
 fatigue uniform, in which he looked remarkably natty 
 and well despite a slight pallor, Ray had insisted on 
 being trundled up the row in a wheeled chair, and there 
 at Mrs. Stannard's they had a little rejoicing of their 
 own, Ray and the young surgeon being surrounded by 
 the ladies of the th for an hour, when Mrs. Wilkins 
 had to go off to her brood, Mrs. Turner to visit some 
 infantry friends, and then, awhile longer, Miss San- 
 ford sat and listened to the eager talk of Mrs. Stannard 
 and Grace with the dark-eyed cavalryman, and those 
 dark eyes of his sought hers every other minute. They 
 tried to get him to talk of his ride. Even Grace, de 
 claring that he must, and turning laughingly to her 
 friend, exclaimed, "Come, Maidie, add your plea.
 
 244 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 You have a right to know how your colors went ;" 
 and Miss Sanford's face flamed with its sudden blush, 
 but she spoke no word. Mrs. Stannard, smiling and 
 happy, but seeing everything as usual, noted that Ray, 
 too, had flushed underneath the deep tan of his fron 
 tier complexion, but he came to the rescue blithely as 
 ever. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Sanford, it would have been easy enough 
 if I had only had Monarchist; though Dandy did 
 nobly, bless him !" 
 
 It was a blissful evening, and all too short, for the 
 doctor simply ended it by wheeling Ray home at nine 
 o'clock and putting him to bed. For two days more 
 he was incessantly up the row in his wheeled chair. 
 Twice Gleason saw him tete-d,-tete with Miss Sanford 
 on the piazza, and the garrison ladies were slyly twit 
 ting him with his prospects of being cut out. The 
 whole garrison by this time saw that he and Ray were 
 not on speaking terms. Blake, too, had arrived, a little 
 cross and crabbed for him, as his wounds were painful, 
 consisting mainly of bruises where his wounded horse 
 had fallen and rolled with him. But he could limp 
 about and swear, and distort the poetry of the old mas 
 ters and be savage and cynical. He hated Gleason, 
 ridiculed him in public, and hailed him as a military 
 Malvolio. 
 
 " See how he jets 'neath his (anything but) advanc&d 
 plumes !" he spouted, as Gleason came gallanting some 
 of the garrison ladies down the line, desperately hoping 
 to make Miss Sanford jealous. Gleason couldn't for 
 the life of him explain what Blake meant, but he knew 
 there was sarcasm in it, and hated him all the same. It
 
 HOW WE HEARD THE NEWS. 245 
 
 would be but a few days before both the wounded offi 
 cers would be able to perform light duty. There came 
 a telegraphic inquiry as to that from way up at Fort 
 Fetterman. The colonel wanted to know, and old 
 Whaling was pleased to send the response. But it was 
 a blow to Gleason. Within forty-eight hours it brought 
 other telegraphic orders from division headquarters to 
 send Lieutenant Gleason at once to Fort Fetterman, to 
 join his regiment at the earliest possible moment. 
 
 There was visible rejoicing in the garrison. Gleason 
 had a vehement interview with the post commander 
 and galloped off to town, where he spent much time 
 telegraphing and awaiting replies. Then, to wear off 
 the tedium of the intervening hours, he resorted to 
 several haunts well known to the inhabitants of those 
 days, and did more or less betting on uncertain games, 
 and much more wrestling with an insidious enemy. He 
 was crazy drunk when lifted from the hack at his quar 
 ters late that night ; and his orders were to take stage 
 for Fetterman at tnree P.M. the following day. Cap 
 tain Webb, returning from his Kansas court, would 
 reach Cheyenne at noon and go by same conveyance. 
 It was arranged that the two officers should be in readi 
 ness at the fort, and the coach would drive through and 
 picJt them up. 
 
 21*
 
 246 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A COWAKD'S DEED. 
 
 ME. RAY was hobbling about his room blithe as a 
 lark. He had slept soundly, awaked refreshed, en 
 joyed his breakfast and the music of the band at guard- 
 mounting ; was rejoicing in the arrival of Dandy, who 
 had been sent down from Laramie, and was now in a 
 little paddock in the back-yard of the quarters he and 
 Blake occupied in company. He had spent an hour 
 delightfully at Mrs. Truscott's, where the ladies were 
 out taking the morning air, and finally had come home 
 to write to " the mother" at Lexington, who, with all 
 her pride in her boy's achievements, was still vastly 
 worried. She had written to the commanding officer, 
 in fact, and begged particulars from him, as her son was 
 so averse to writing. The colonel tad shown the let 
 ter to Gleason, who happened, as usual, to be on hand, 
 and Gleason had remarked, " Well ! That's what I 
 always told you. You'll get to know him after a while." 
 Ray had written a joyous letter to her and a few jolly 
 lines to sister Nell, whose last letter had perplexed him 
 somewhat, and then, his work finished, he had risen, 
 and was limping around with the aid of a stick singing 
 lustily the old darkey camp-meeting lines, 
 
 " Oh, de elder's on de road, mos' done trabbelin', 
 De elder's on de road, mos' done trabbelin', 
 De elder's on de road, mos' done er trabbelin ; 
 I'se gwine to carry my soul to de Lawd," 
 
 when the door opened, and in came Blake.
 
 A COWARD'S DEED. 247 
 
 " What ho ! Mercutio. Your bosom's lord sits 
 lightly on his throne, anyhow ! What you been drink 
 ing, Billy? Getting shot seems to agree with you. 
 Faith ! lad, I've had a joyous morn, chaffing Gleason 
 and supervising his packing. What a damned sneak 
 that fellow is, anyhow !" he broke off, in sudden disgust. 
 
 " What's he been doing now ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I can't tell you ; just hinting and insinu 
 ating as usual. He's no end grumpy at being sent off; 
 seemed to think he had the inside track with the Jersey 
 bluebell. (Look out, William, or you'll be moth to 
 that candle next. She's the winningest thing I ever 
 saw, winning as four aces, i' faith !) Gad ! Did you 
 hear the K. O. W.'s* speech about her ? Hullo ! There 
 they go now. She and Mrs. Stannard driving to town. 
 Wouldn't wonder if they were going just to get rid of 
 having to say good-by to Gleason. Come, Billy ; let's 
 limp over to the store and have a cup of sack." 
 
 "B'lieve not, Blakie, I've well, let up on it, so to 
 speak." 
 
 "What? Billy? Oh, come now, that's too why, 
 angels and ministers of grace ! Ray, is it love ? de 
 lirious, delicious, delusive love, again ? Sweet William ! 
 Billy Doux ! bless my throbbing heart ! Odds boddi- 
 kins ! man, nay, think, 
 
 ' "Tis best to freeze on to the old love 
 Till you're solid as wheat with the new.' 
 
 Don't throw off on Hebe when Shebe, maybe, only 
 fooling thee. Peace, say you? Nay, then, I mean 
 
 * Army argot for commanding officer's wife.
 
 248 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 no harm, sweet Will. Here's me hand on't. But for 
 me, no dalliance with Venus, 
 
 1 Her and her blind boy's scandalled company 
 I have forsworn.' 
 
 You have my blessing, Billy, but 
 
 ' Dost thou think because thou art virtuous 
 There shall be no more cakes and ale ?' 
 
 A vaunt! I'll hie me to metheglin and Muldoon's." 
 And off he went, leaving Ray half vexed, half shaken 
 with laughter. 
 
 It must have been one o'clock when, looking up the 
 row as he sat basking in the sunshine, he saw Gleason 
 come out of Captain Truscott's quarters and rapidly 
 nearing him along the walk. He had been idly look 
 ing over a newspaper and thinking intently over mat 
 ters which he was beginning to find vastly interesting ; 
 but something in Gleason's appearance changed Mr. 
 Kay's expression from that of the mingled contempt 
 and indifference with which he generally met him into 
 one of more active interest. The big and bulky lieu 
 tenant lurched unmistakably as he walked; his face 
 was flushed, his eyes red. He was muttering angrily 
 to himself, and shot a quick but far from intelligent 
 glance at Ray as he passed. 
 
 u Now, what on earth could have prompted him to 
 go to Truscott's looking like that ?" thought Ray. " I 
 wonder if Mrs. Truscott saw him. She did not go 
 driving." 
 
 Presently there came a little knot of ladies down the
 
 A COWARD'S DEED. 249 
 
 row. They stopped to speak to Ray, and he rose, an 
 swering with smiling welcome, and they on the side 
 walk and he, leaning against one of the pillars of the 
 low wooden portico, were in the midst of a lively chat 
 when his own door opened and there came from within 
 his quarters Mrs. Truscott's soldier servant, an old 
 cavalryman whose infirmities had made him glad, long 
 since, to exchange the functions of a trooper for those 
 of general messenger, bootblack, and scullion on better 
 pay and rations. He had come in from the rear. He 
 held out a note. 
 
 " Mrs. Truscott said I was to find you at once, 
 sir." 
 
 " Pardon me, ladies, I will see what this is," he said, 
 opening it leisurely with pleasant anticipations of an 
 invitation for tea. He read two lines : the color left 
 his face. Amaze, consternation, distress, were all pic 
 tured there in an instant. 
 
 " Excuse me ! I must go to Mrs. Truscott at once," 
 he said, and went limping eagerly, rapidly up the 
 walk. 
 
 " Why, what can she want ?" asked one of the aston 
 ished ladies. 
 
 " I cannot imagine. Don't you think we some of 
 us ought to go and see if anything is the matter ?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! It is nothing where we would be of 
 any service. What makes me wonder is what she can 
 want of Mr. Ray ; what made him look so startled ?" 
 (A pause.) 
 
 " Didn't Mrs. Turner say he was very attentive to 
 her in Arizona, and that she threw him over for Cap 
 tain Truscott ?" (Tentatively.)
 
 250 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 "It wasn't that at all!" promptly interrupted an 
 other, with" the positive conviction of womankind. 
 " Mrs. Wilkins told me all about it, and I know. It 
 was another girl Mr. Ray was in love with, and no, 
 it was Mrs. somebody Tanner, whose husband was 
 killed, and Mrs. Truscott did break an engagement 
 with somebody " 
 
 " I didn't know about that. What I say is that Mr. 
 Ray was desperately in love with Mrs. Truscott, be 
 cause " 
 
 And by this time all four were talking at once, and 
 the thread of conversation became involved. 
 
 But Ray had hurried on. What he read had indeed 
 startled him. 
 
 " Come to me the moment you get this. I am in fearful 
 trouble. 
 
 "G. P. T." 
 
 He knocked at the door, and she herself opened it 
 and led him into the parlor. She was pale as death, 
 her eyes distended with misery, every feature quivering, 
 every nerve trembling with fright and violent emotion. 
 She began madly walking up and down the little room 
 wringing her hands, shivering, gasping for breath. 
 
 " In heaven's name, what has happened ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I cannot tell you ! I cannot tell you ! It 
 is too fearful ! Oh, Mr. Ray ! Mr. Ray !" 
 
 " But you must tell me, Mrs. Truscott. Try and 
 control yourself. Is anything wrong with Jack ?" 
 
 " Oh, no no !" 
 
 " Good God ! Has there been an accident ? Has 
 anything happened to Miss Sanford ?"
 
 A COWARD'S DEED. 251 
 
 " No no no ! It's only me !" she answered, hys 
 terically inaccurate in her wild wretchedness. " I'll tell 
 you. It is that awful man, Mr. Gleason. He has been 
 here and " 
 
 Ray's face set like stone. The words came through 
 clinched teeth now. He seized her hand released it 
 as suddenly. 
 
 " Tell me instantly. There's no time to lose. He 
 goes at three." 
 
 And then at last, half sobbing, half raging with in 
 dignation, she managed to tell her story. 
 
 Gleason had come in half an hour before, and walk 
 ing at once into the parlor, had sent up word that he 
 wished to see her. She asked to be excused, but he 
 called up that it was a matter of the utmost importance, 
 and she came down. He closed the parlor door, stood 
 between her and escape, and then proceeded to accuse 
 her of slights and wrongs to him, and of interfering 
 with his rights as a gentleman to pay his addresses to 
 Miss Sanford, of prejudicing her against him. He 
 accused her husband of treating him with disdain, and 
 then she saw he had been drinking heavily he with 
 wild triumph told her she was in his power ; he had 
 long suspected her. She strove to check him and to 
 call her servants (for a wonder they weren't at the key 
 hole), but she was powerless against him. Then he 
 went on to denounce her as a faithless wife, and to 
 accuse her of a vile correspondence with a soldier, an 
 enlisted man, a sergeant formerly of her husband's 
 troop. He drew a letter from his pocket, and with 
 sneering emphasis read it aloud. It was an ardent 
 love-letter from Wolf, in which he raved of his love
 
 252 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 for her, spoke of other letters he had written, and re* 
 minded her of his happiness in past meetings, and 
 begged to be told when he could see her alone. She 
 was horror-stricken ; indignantly denied any knowledge 
 of him whatever. He simply sneered, and told her he 
 meant to take that letter " to crush her husband with" 
 the first time he asserted any authority over him, and 
 to hold as a menace over her. Then she implored him 
 as an officer, as a gentleman, to give it to her, but he 
 only added sneering insult. 
 
 Ray could hardly wait till she had finished. At first 
 he blazed with wrath, then that odd preternatural cool 
 ness and sang-froid seemed to steal over him. He 
 looked at his watch One thirty : time enough 
 then asked a quiet question or two. Had any one 
 heard ? Did any one else know ? Not a soul. 
 Whom could she tell ? Whom could she call but him, 
 Mrs. Stannard and Marion being away ? 
 
 " Don't worry a particle. I'll have him here on his 
 knees if need be. You say Wolf was the signature. 
 Do you know any Why ! does he mean that good- 
 looking German ?" 
 
 And to his amaze she was blushing painfully. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Ray, and he was with us at the Point, 
 and always coming to borrow books of Jack, but 
 indeed he never wrote me, nor I " 
 
 " Hush ! Who but a blackguard would think it ? 
 Just sit here quietly ten minutes or so. You shall 
 have that letter. If any one comes, I think it would 
 be best to keep quiet about this until later." 
 
 With that he went hobbling down the row. There 
 were the ladies and they accosted him to know if any-
 
 A COWARD'S DEED. 253 
 
 thing were wrong, if they had not better go to Mrs. 
 Truscott ? et caetera, et camera ; but he answered with 
 unaccustomed brilliancy and mendacity that he had a 
 scare for nothing because he could not read her fine 
 Italian hand. She was only getting some things ready 
 to send to Captain Truscott by the stage to Fetterman. 
 All the same he slipped into his room, got his revolver, 
 gave a quiet twirl to the cylinder to see that all was 
 working smoothly, and the next minute, without knock 
 ing, banged into the front room of Gleason's quarters, 
 finding that worthy sluicing his head and face with cold 
 water at the washstand. 
 
 " Who's that ?" he shouted, turning half round to 
 find Ray standing less than ten feet away with a cocked 
 six-shooter gleaming in his hand. There was dead 
 silence a moment, then Ray's placid tones were heard, 
 
 " Sit down, Gleason." 
 
 Gleason stood glaring at him an instant, a ghastly 
 pallor stealing over his face, his rickety legs trembling 
 beneath him. 
 
 " Do you hear ? Sit down !" 
 
 And though the words were slow, deliberate, clean- 
 cut, there was a hissing prolongation of the one sibil- 
 lant that gave the impression of the 'scape-valve of 
 some pent-up power that bore a ton to the square inch. 
 There was a blaze, a glitter, in the dark, snapping eyes ; 
 there was a pitiless, contemptuous, murderous set to the 
 lips and jaw ; a fearful significance in the slowly-raising 
 pistol hand and the pointing finger of the other. Limp 
 as a wet rag, cowering like a lashed cur, terrified into 
 speechlessness, Gleason dropped into the indicated 
 chair. 
 
 22
 
 254 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " If you attempt to move except at my bidding I'll 
 shoot you like a dog. I want that letter." 
 
 " What letter ?" he whimpered, in his effort to dodge. 
 
 " The letter you were blackguard enough to steal and 
 coward enough to threaten Mrs. Truscott with. Where 
 is it?" 
 
 " Ray, I swear I meant no harm ! It was all a a 
 joke. I didn't dream she'd take it so seriously. I 
 picked it up in her yard, and meant to give it " 
 
 "Shut up! Where is it?" 
 
 " I I haven't got it now." 
 
 " You lie ! Bring it out, or I'll " And again 
 
 the rising pistol hand with dread suggestiveness sup 
 plied the ellipsis. 
 
 Gleasou began fumbling in the pocket of his waist 
 coat. It was evident that he was on the verge of 
 maudlin tears ; he shook and trembled and began pro 
 testing. 
 
 " Bah !" said Ray. " The idea of showing a pistol 
 to such a whelp of cowardice ! Hand me the letter !" 
 And with an impatient step forward, he stood towering 
 over the cringing, shrinking, pitiful object in the chair. 
 The nerveless hands presently drew forth a letter from 
 an inner pocket. This Ray quickly seized ; glanced 
 hurriedly over it, stowed it in his blouse, then walked 
 to the door. 
 
 Fancying him going, Gleason's drunken wits began 
 to rally. He half rose, and with a face distorted with 
 rage, shook his fist, and his high, reedy, querulous tenor 
 could have been heard all over the house. 
 
 " You think you've downed me, but, by God ! you'll 
 pay for this ! You'll see if in one month's time you
 
 A COWARD'S DEED. 255 
 
 don't bemoan every insult you put upon me, and if 
 she don't wish " 
 
 " Silence ! you whelp, you drivelling cur ! Don't 
 you dare utter her name ! Just what I'll do about this 
 infamous business I don't know yet. A woman's 
 name is too sacred to be dragged into court, even to rid 
 the service of such a foul blot as you ; but, now mark 
 me : by the God of heaven, if you ever dare bring up 
 this matter again to a single soul, I'll kill you as I 
 would a mad dog." 
 
 And with one long look of concentrated wrath, con 
 tempt, and menace, Ray turned his back upon his abject 
 enemy and left him. Gleason's orderly entering the 
 room a minute after was told to hand him a tumbler 
 and the whiskey- bottle, and with shaking hand the big 
 subaltern tossed oif a bumper, while the man went on 
 strapping and roping his trunks and field-kit. Half 
 an hour afterwards, half sobered and partially restored, 
 he was able to say a brief word of farewell to the post 
 commander, a venomous word. 
 
 Meantime, stopping at his quarters a moment to re 
 turn his revolver and wash his hands, Ray went up the 
 row to Truscott's. He had not time to knock. Grace 
 was waiting for his coming with an intensity of eager 
 ness and anxiety, and the moment she heard his step 
 flew to the door and admitted him, leading, as before, 
 the way to the parlor. 
 
 Mrs. Turner had, meantime, been apprised by some 
 of her infantry friends that Mrs. Truscott had sent a 
 note to Mr. Ray, and also that there must be something 
 queer going on. Mr. Ray had been much agitated at 
 first and had hurried thither, and heaven only knows
 
 256 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 the variety of conjectures propounded. By the time 
 Ray was seen coming up the row again there were four 
 ladies on Mrs. Turner's piazza, who were vehemently 
 interested in his next move. They watched his going 
 to Truscott's ; but, of course, watching was perfectly 
 justifiable in view of their anxiety about her. 
 
 "Did you see?" said Mrs. Turner. "He didn't 
 even knock. She was waiting to let him in." 
 
 It was by no means an unfrequent thing for any one 
 of the ladies of the garrison to receive a visit from 
 some old and tried friend of hers and her husband's 
 while the latter was in the field. Mrs. Turner never 
 thought anything of having officers call day or evening, 
 though, as a rule, there was a sentiment against it, and 
 the majority of the ladies especially the elders 
 thought it wrong for the young matrons to receive the 
 visits of young officers at any time when the head of 
 the house was far away. Now that there were only 
 four young officers in garrison and more than 'a dozen 
 ladies, the feeling had strengthened to the extent of 
 considerable talk. It was therefore the unanimous 
 view of the ladies on Mrs. Turner's piazza that in Mrs. 
 Truscott's receiving two visits from Mr. Ray in one 
 morning, under circumstances provokingly mysterious, 
 there was something indecorous, to say the least, and 
 unless they knew the why and the wherefore, it was 
 their intention to so declare. " Indeed !" said Mrs. 
 Turner, " I think Mrs. Truscott ought to be spoken to." 
 
 Utterly oblivious of this most proper and virtuous 
 espionage, Ray had returned to Mrs. Truscott. She 
 looked at him with imploring eyes as they entered the 
 parlor.
 
 DESERTION. 257 
 
 " There is the letter," he said ; " do you want it or 
 shall I burn it?" 
 
 She shrank back as though recoiling from a loath 
 some touch. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! Burn it ! Here is a match," she 
 cried, springing to the mantel, and then her over 
 charged heart gave way. She threw herself upon the 
 sofa, burying her face in her hands, sobbing like a 
 child with relief and exhaustion. Ray touched the 
 match to the paper ; had just fairly started the flame, 
 when laughing voices and quick footsteps were heard 
 on the piazza. The door flew open, and all in a burst 
 of sunshine and balmy air, Marion Sanford, saying, 
 " Oh, come right in. You haven't a moment to spare, 
 and she'll be so glad to see you !" whisked into the room 
 followed by Captain Webb. 
 
 Tableau ! 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 DESEETION. 
 
 IN that species of mental athletics known as jump 
 ing at conclusions Mrs. Turner was an expert. That 
 she always hit the mark is something a regard for 
 veracity will not permit us to assert. Indeed, it was 
 not often that her intellectual subtlety enabled her to 
 extract from outward appearances the true inwardness 
 of the various matters that entered the orbit of her ob 
 servations. All the same she was a born jumper, and, 
 
 r 22*
 
 258 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 like the Allen revolver immortalized by Mark Twain, 
 if she didn't always get what she went for she fetched 
 something. Mrs. Turner could fetch a conclusion from 
 everything she saw, and was happy in her facility. 
 Time and again her patient lord had ventured to point 
 a moral from her repeated mistakes of judgment, and 
 to suggest less precipitancy in the future; but to no 
 good purpose. Mrs. Turner's faith in the justice of her 
 prognostications was sublime, though not unusuaj. It 
 has been within the compass of our experience to meet 
 and know undaunted women who, day after day, could, 
 with equal positiveness, announce their theories as in 
 controvertible facts, or flatly contradict the assertions 
 of those whose very position enabled them to be well 
 informed. When Mrs. Turner was confronted with the 
 proof of her error, and gently upbraided by the placid 
 captain for being so positive in her affirmation or de 
 nial, that pretty matron was wont to shrug her lovely 
 shoulders, and petulantly set aside the subject with the 
 comprehensive excuse, " Oh, well ! I didn't know." 
 
 In vain had Turner pointed out to her that the fact 
 was self-evident, that in view of that very fact she 
 should have been less confident in the discussion and 
 should be more guarded in the future : his efforts were 
 crowned with small success. Mrs. Turner's beliefs were 
 only too apt on all occasions to be heralded by her as 
 undeniable facts. 
 
 She saw Miss Sanford and Captain Webb enter the 
 Truscotts' soon after Ray. She saw Captain Webb 
 come out almost immediately and go thence to the 
 Stannards', next door, while Ray soon appeared and 
 walked off homeward. She saw Mrs. Stannard come
 
 DESERTION. 259 
 
 out with "Webb, and while the latter turned to come 
 and say good-by to her, Mrs. Stannard had gone at once 
 into the Truscotts'. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Truscott ill ?" she immediately asked. 
 
 " Well a she seemed to be. She was evidently a 
 good deal cut up about something," said Webb, who was 
 slow of speech and not quick of intellect. 
 
 " Well, what do you think it was ? What was she 
 doing ? Tell me, captain. I'm so worried about her, 
 she has been so unlike herself since Mr. Truscott went 
 away." 
 
 " Oh, ah ! she was very pale and very a well, 
 tearful, you know. Been crying, I suppose," and 
 Webb shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't get over 
 that picture exactly, Mrs. Truscott springing up from 
 the sofa all tears ; Ray standing there burning a letter, 
 all confusion. Still, he believed it something suscepti 
 ble of explanation, and did not care to talk about it. 
 But that Laramie stage would soon be along, and Mrs. 
 Turner determined to make the best of her opportuni 
 ties. Ray had never been one of her satellites, and she 
 never forgave too little admiration, though it would be 
 manifestly unfair to assert that she would have forgiven 
 too much. She knew that he had been quite devoted 
 to Mrs. Truscott in the days that succeeded the troub 
 lous times at Sandy, though the days were very brief, 
 and now it was her impulsive theory that Mrs. Trus- 
 cott's odd behavior and Ray's presence at the house 
 were symptoms of a revival of that suspected flame. 
 She was trying to draw Webb out when Gleason, look 
 ing black as a thunder-cloud and immensely melo 
 dramatic, came in to say good-by to her as she stood
 
 260 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 on the piazza. The stage came cracking in at the front 
 gate at the moment and stopped below at Gleason's 
 quarters, where the orderly began stowing in their light 
 luggage. 
 
 " Have you said good-by to Miss Sanford and Mrs 
 Truscott ?" she asked, with mischievous interest. 
 
 "Er no. I understand Mrs. Truscott is not well. 
 I saw her this morning a moment, and promised to 
 come round later, but I think it best not to disturb 
 them." 
 
 The stage lumbered up to the front, and as it came 
 Mrs. Stannard reappeared and hurried up the walk. 
 Her usually placid face showed evidence of deep emo 
 tion and barely repressed excitement. 
 
 " Captain Webb, will you say to the major that I 
 will have a long letter to go to him by the very next 
 mail, and that I hope it will reach him without delay." 
 She looked squarely at Gleason with her kind blue eyes 
 blazing, and never so much as recognized him by a nod. 
 " I must return to Mrs. Truscott, who is far from well, 
 but tell Captain Truscott not to be alarmed about her. 
 Good-by, Captain Webb. Come back to us safe and 
 sound." 
 
 Another moment and the two officers were borne 
 away, and Mrs. Turner went down to the Truscotts' 
 determined to find out what was the trouble, but came 
 away dissatisfied. There was some mystery, and she 
 could not solve it. What did it portend that Mrs. 
 Stannard should have cut Mr. Gleason dead ? 
 
 Later that afternoon, just before sunset, there was a 
 pretty picture in front of Truscott's quarters. It had 
 been a lovely day, at the very end of July, but the air
 
 DESERTION. 261 
 
 was cool and bracing, and many of the ladies, seated 
 on the long row of piazzas, or strolling up and down 
 the gravelled walk, had found it necessary to wear their 
 shawls or wraps. The band was playing sweetly in 
 the circular stand on the parade, and a dozen little chil 
 dren were romping about the few patches of green turf 
 or splashing the water in the narrow acequias. The 
 newly-planted sprigs of trees looked like so many tent- 
 poles stuck up on the edge of the diamond so far as 
 verdure was concerned, and the dingy brown of the 
 barracks on the southern side had little that could at 
 tract the eye. But far beyond, across the creek valley, 
 lay the rolling expanse of open prairie ; far beyond that, 
 those glistening, gleaming battlements of eternal snow 
 standing against the Colorado skies. Only three or 
 four officers could be seen along the row only half 
 a dozen soldiers in all the great garrison. The recruits 
 were all in at supper. The officers and trained men 
 were all far away to the north. To the delight of the 
 children Mr. Ray's orderly came up the road leading 
 Dandy, and after they had crowded around and petted 
 and lauded him while a new halter was being put on, 
 and his glistening coat touched up for the third time 
 since his supper of oats, Dandy was slowly led on up 
 the row, stopping every few rods to be patted and ad 
 mired by the ladies, and at last reached Truscott's 
 house, where Ray went and knocked softly, and Miss 
 Sanford appeared. Together they walked to the gate, 
 and there they stood. Ray expatiating on the many 
 good points of his pet and comrade, Miss Sanford 
 stroking the sorrel's arching neck and velvet nozzle, 
 and looking: volumes of adulation into his intelligent
 
 262 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 eyes. Dandy pawed and pricked up his ears, and 
 seemed proud and conscious as any human, and would 
 have purred like a kitten had he only known how, so 
 soft was the touch of her caressing hand, so sweet was 
 the praise of her gentle voice. Ray stood and watched 
 her with delight in his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, you beauty ! Oh, you dear, dear fellow ! how 
 I would prize you if you were mine ! Do you dream 
 what a hero you are, I wonder ?" 
 
 Both her white hands were holding his glossy head 
 now, and Dandy stood there looking into her animated 
 face as though he loved every feature in it, or was it 
 Ray? Both of them could hardly keep their eyes off 
 her an instant. She was a puzzle to Dandy. She was 
 an angel to his master. 
 
 "He was hit twice, was he not?" she asked; and 
 when he showed her the scars, she mourned over them 
 like a mother over a baby's bumped forehead. 
 
 "I declare, Mr. Ray is growing positively hand 
 some !" said Mrs. Stannard, looking out of the window 
 at the pretty group. " How delighted he is that Miss 
 Sanford should make so much of Dandy !" she added, 
 turning to Mrs. Truscott, who lay there very white and 
 weary looking. 
 
 Grace smiled. " I must creep up to the window and 
 see," she said ; and for a moment they gazed in silence. 
 He was bending down over her, so bright and brave 
 and gallant, that the next thing the two ladies looked 
 suddenly into each other's face, smiling suggestively. 
 
 " Just what I was thinking !" said Mrs. Stannard, 
 laughing ; and there seemed no need to ask what the 
 simultaneous thought could be. Then they looked out
 
 DESERTION. 263 
 
 again. " Oh !" said Mrs. Truscott, impatiently, " I 
 wish she would keep away !" for down came Mrs. Tur 
 ner, all smiles and white muslin, to join them. That 
 woman could never understand tjiat she could be de 
 trop, was Mrs. Stannard's reflection, but it was charac 
 teristic of her that she gave the (possibly) dispropor- 
 tioned thought no utterance. Ray lifted his cap with 
 his customary grace and courtesy, but looked only mod 
 erately rejoiced at the coming of even so bewitching an 
 addition to Dandy's circle of admirers. Possibly some 
 years of experience at poker had given him such ad 
 mirable control of all facial expression as to enable him 
 to disguise the annoyance he really felt. Eay couldn't 
 bear " humbug" in any form, and when horses were 
 the subjects of discussion he was fiercely intolerant 
 of the wise looks and book-inspired remarks of the 
 would-be authorities in the regiment. To his cavalry 
 nature the horse had an affiliation that was simply 
 strong as a friendship. Nothing could shake Ray's 
 conviction in the reasoning powers, the love, loyalty, 
 gratitude, and devotion of the animal that from his 
 babyhood he had looked upon as a companion, almost 
 as a confidant. He had little faith in Mrs. Turner's 
 voluble admiration of Dandy. To use his Blue Grass 
 vernacular, he "didn't take any stock (he called it 
 stawk) in that sort of gush." He knew that there was 
 only one four-legged domestic animal of which Mrs. 
 Turner was more desperately afraid, and that was a cow. 
 She made a ninny of herself when she went out to 
 drive, and the mere pricking up of the horses' ears was 
 to her mind premonitory symptom of a runaway, and 
 excuse for immediate demand to be set down on the
 
 264 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 open prairie and allowed to walk home. As for riding, 
 she couldn't be induced to try. To her a horse was a 
 thing that kicked or bit or showed the whites of his 
 eyes and set his ears back and switched his tail and 
 gave other evidences of depraved moral nature, and she 
 would no more touch or approach one than she would 
 a wild-cat, except when in so doing, with an admiring 
 audience, she could become the central figure in an ef 
 fective tableau. Hay wished her in Jericho, as she 
 stood at arm's length and touched Dandy with the tips 
 of her dainty fingers and began to speak of him as 
 " it." Equine sex was a matter beyond Mrs. Turner's 
 consideration, and with eminent discretion she compro 
 mised on " it" as a safe descriptive. 
 
 Then old Whaling came along with his better half, 
 and the lady stopped to see the now celebrated sorrel, 
 and when Ray cordially addressed his post commander 
 with the natural question, " What do you think of 
 him, colonel ?" he was genuinely surprised at the em 
 barrassed, lifeless response. The colonel looked away 
 as he replied, 
 
 "Very pretty, very pretty, Mr. Bay," and then 
 walked on as though he desired to keep aloof, and Mrs. 
 Whaling, announcing that she was going to see poor 
 Mrs. Muldoon, who was living outside the gate, moved 
 on after her husband with hardly a glance for Ray. 
 
 Something strange in the colonel's manner, something 
 constrained and distant in that of the adjutant, had oc 
 curred to him once or twice before, but he had given 
 little thought to it. Now he felt that it could no longer 
 be overlooked. Even Mrs. Turner, who knew that in 
 the regiment from the colonel down almost everybody
 
 DESERTION. 265 
 
 had a cordial word for Ray,, and that now he was the 
 idol of the hour, even Mrs. Turner looked after the 
 colonel in amaze and then quickly at Ray. A light 
 flashed over her busy intellect. This was further con 
 firmation of her theory. The colonel, too, had heard 
 of Ray's .devotions to Mrs. Truscott and was offended 
 thereat. 
 
 But now the sunset call was sounding, the band 
 marched away, and Ray and his fair companion stood 
 watching Dandy, who was being led back to his pad 
 dock. A deep flush was on her cheek. She, too, had 
 noted the colonel's cold and distant manner to Ray. 
 She saw that he was stung by it, but was trying to give 
 no sign so long as they were together. She had learned 
 many things since her return from town. She and 
 Mrs. Stannard knew all about the terrible affair of the 
 morning, and fully understood Ray's presence at the 
 house and Mrs. Truscott's agitation. They had recalled 
 many of Gleason's bitter sneers and insinuations against 
 Ray, and all three felt that, unknown to him, some 
 covert influence was at work here at the post to do him 
 injury, and that his loyal services this day in Mrs. 
 Truscott's behalf had but intensified the hatred against 
 him. It was agreed among them that not one word 
 should be breathed of the affair, except what Mrs. 
 Stannard should write to the major. Mrs. Truscott 
 was sure that Jack would shoot Mr. Gleason on sight 
 the moment he was informed, and Mrs. Stannard 
 thought it quite probable. Miss Sanford was silent in 
 this discussion, but all agreed that Ray must be warned 
 that there was some plot against him. It was myste 
 riously whispered among the ladies about the garrison. 
 M 23
 
 266 MARION'S ' FA ITH. 
 
 Knowing this, and knowing that she could not well be 
 the one to tell him, Marion Sanford, with her whole 
 heart in her beautiful eyes, stood there by his side as 
 the sun went down. She liked him for his frank, 
 manly ways ; she honored him for his loyalty ; she 
 respected him for the lack of certain traits which every 
 one had been so careful to ascribe to him as habitual. 
 She gloried in the daring, the self-sacrifice, the heroism 
 of his conduct in the recent events on the campaign. 
 She felt personal gratitude deep and earnest for his 
 invaluable service to Grace to them all this day ; and 
 just because she could not give utterance to him of any 
 one of these emotions, was it to be wondered at that, as 
 he turned towards her again and caught the earnest 
 look in her swimming eyes, Ray's heart gave one great 
 bound? 
 
 " I want you to ride him some day, Miss Sanford. 
 I cannot yet. Will you?" And his voice was low, 
 and there was an odd tremor in it for Ray. 
 
 "Ride Dandy?" she said, after an instant's pause, 
 " Mr. Ray. If he were my horse, after what he has 
 done, after such a deed, do you think I would let 
 any one use him ?" 
 
 "That would rule me out, Miss Sanford," he 
 answered, smiling. 
 
 "You?" She had clasped her hands. She was 
 looking down nervously at the tip of her little boot. 
 Her eyes were half suifused, her face flushing, then 
 growing suddenly hot and cold by turns. She knew 
 his eyes were glowing upon her. She knew there was 
 no earthly excuse for such absurd sensations. She 
 knew that it was highly unconventional to experience
 
 DESERTION. 267 
 
 any such difficulty of expression where acquaintance 
 had been so brief; but was there, after all, anything 
 unwomanly in letting him see that she was proud of 
 him, of his friendship, his daring ? Had not every 
 other woman gushed over him and called him splendid 
 and some of them " lovely," while she had never yet 
 dared speak of it at all ? He had simply laughed off 
 their adulation; but he was not laughing now. She 
 never saw such intensity in his face. Why ! this very 
 silence was dangerous, distracting. If she she cared 
 for him she could not be more nervous and shy. With 
 sudden effort she looked up in his face. 
 
 "You? Why, Mr. Ray, I never think of one 
 without the other. How could I tell you," she broke 
 forth impulsively, "how simply splendid I thought 
 you both ?" 
 
 And now, with flaming cheeks, she turned and ran 
 into the house, leaving him all astir with delight at the 
 gate. 
 
 And yet when he called that evening to inquire after 
 Mrs. Truscott, and Marion, with Mrs. Stannard, received 
 him in the parlor, she was all animation, self-posses 
 sion, and mistress of the situation again. Even when 
 Mrs. Stannard found means to leave them alone, Kay 
 could find no pretext for diverting the talk into the 
 delicious channel in which it flowed at sunset. Per 
 haps, after all, it was only the glow of departing day, 
 like the throes of the dying dolphin lending hectic ra 
 diance to his colors, that so dazzlingly, bewilderingly, 
 beautifully tinged the current of her words, and gave 
 him glimpses of a heaven of hope his wildest dream 
 had never pictured.
 
 268 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 But Mr. Ray had still a stern duty for that night. 
 Having disposed of Gleason during the afternoon, he 
 had sent for the soldier Wolf, but was told he would 
 be on pass until tattoo. Until he had sifted the 
 matter to the bottom he would not know how to pro 
 ceed with regard to Gleason. Charges of conduct un 
 becoming an officer and a gentleman, court-martial and 
 publicity, were not to be thought of as involving her 
 name in such a scandal. After what she had said of 
 Wolf, his first theory that it was all a forgery of 
 Gleason's was abandoned. He must see Wolf, ob 
 tain from him any similar letter he might have, clearly 
 point out to him the madness of his conduct, and satisfy 
 himself whether indeed Wolf might not be insane. 
 Immediately after tattoo, therefore, he had again de 
 spatched his orderly for the bandsman, and in two min 
 utes the latter appeared, knocked, and stood, cap in 
 hand, within the door. Ray turned up the lamp and 
 coolly surveyed his man. The two stood a moment 
 confronting each other in silence. Wolf was very 
 pale, and beads of sweat were starting on his brow, 
 but the blue eyes never flinched. He had never served 
 a day under the lieutenant's command, but he knew 
 him well, as all soldiers know the various officers of 
 their regiments: the verdict is rarely at fault. He 
 knew there was no trifling with the man before him ; 
 he felt that no slight pretext had called him to his pres 
 ence, and the instant he set eyes on him he knew his 
 secret was in his hands. 
 
 " Wolf," said Ray, " have you written any letters to 
 Mrs. Truscott since the one you left in her yard last 
 week?" The question reads harshly. It was spoken
 
 DESERTION. 269 
 
 calmly, without a vestige of menace or sneer ; yet the 
 soldier's hands clinched, as though in fierce convulsion. 
 His forehead seemed to wrinkle into one mass of cor 
 rugations ; he bowed his ghastly face in an agony of 
 shame. 
 
 " I ask in no anger. Let me tell you briefly what 
 has happened. I have no word to add to the reproach 
 you feel. That letter fell into the hands of a scoundrel. 
 He took it to Mrs. Truscott this day, and threatened 
 her with full exposure; accused her, in fact, of cor 
 responding with you because you mentioned other 
 letters." 
 
 " Oh, my God ! my God ! Kill me, Herr Lieuten 
 ant, kill me !" was the soldier's gasping cry, and before 
 Ray could do aught to stay him he had plunged for 
 ward on his face, and lay writhing on the painted floor, 
 tearing wildly at his hair, calling down curses on him 
 self, on his mad love, on the hand that penned the 
 fatal letter, on the hound who had carried it to that 
 innocent, that angel. Then on his knees, with out 
 stretched arms, he looked up at Ray, who stood utterly 
 astounded at his paroxysm of misery and despair. 
 "His name, lieutenant. I implore, I demand. I 
 demand his name ! Sir, I am not unworthy to ask it. 
 I was a gentleman in my country. I am a gentleman ! 
 How know yoti this ? Where is he that has done this 
 so foul wrong?" 
 
 "Far away by this time. Be calm now. I want 
 the truth in this matter." 
 
 " Far away ?" He sprang to his feet. " It is that 
 devil ; it is that dog Gleason ! He spied upon me. 
 It was he who found the letter. Ach Gott ! Where 
 
 23*
 
 270 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 when did he dare threaten that that angel ? Where is 
 the letter ?" 
 
 " The letter is all right. He had to give it up. It 
 was this morning he threatened her, and she is prostrate 
 now." 
 
 For all answer he burst into a mad passion of tears. 
 Never had Ray witnessed such self-abasement. Never 
 had he seen such awful remorse. It was an hour, 
 nearly, before he could calm him sufficiently to extract 
 from him his story, and it amounted practically to 
 this: 
 
 He had killed an opponent in a duel over cards in 
 Dresden. There was nothing for it but to leave in 
 stantly and to seek safety in America. His rank was 
 that of rittmeister in the hussars, and he had nothing 
 to do but enlist in the cavalry. He was penniless and 
 starving when he reached Truscott's quarters, and her 
 face, bending over him as he rallied from his swoon, 
 had haunted him day and night with its beauty, its 
 sympathy and tenderness. She became the idol, the 
 goddess of his life ; he watched her day and night in his 
 mad infatuation ; he dreamed of her as his own ; he 
 wrote letter after letter to her as the sole means of giv 
 ing vent to the wild, passionate love which had turned 
 his brain ; he destroyed them one after another ; he never 
 by word, or look, or deed, so far as he" knew, let her 
 see aught of his hopeless love. He never thought to 
 let one of these letters fall from his hands. Yet, when 
 ever he was alone he wrote. He had sung under her 
 window because in his country everybody sang and 
 played, and it was no unusual attention for any gentle 
 man to pay the compliment of a personal serenade.
 
 DESERTION. 271 
 
 Still he had avoided, as he thought, all recognition until 
 the night he found Gleason creeping upon him. At 
 mention of that name his paroxysms broke forth afresh. 
 Never, never could he forgive himself for the fearful 
 misery he had caused her. Never, never would he for 
 give the hound who had so basely dealt with her. " He 
 shall wipe out his foul crime in his heart's blood," he 
 swore, and Ray had to order silence. He gave Ray 
 his word that never again would he be tempted to write 
 a line ; he implored him to ask for him her forgive 
 ness. Never again would he cross her path. His 
 grief broke forth afresh every few moments, and he 
 was weak as a child. Ray became really alarmed 
 about him, and going into the dining-room where he 
 and Blake were accustomed to take their bachelor sus 
 tenance, he rummaged around in the dark for some 
 brandy. Of late he had given up all use of stimulants, 
 and Blake was down at the store. It was some minutes 
 before he found the decanter, but when he returned the 
 room was empty. Wolf had gone. 
 
 The next morning there was a ripple of excitement 
 at the adjutant's office. A horse was missing from the 
 band stables, and a musician from the band barracks. 
 At retreat that evening it was definitely settled that 
 Sergeant "Wolf had deserted.
 
 272 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IN CLOSE AEBEST. 
 
 To use his own language, life had suddenly become 
 vested with new charms for Mr. Blake. He had found 
 his conversational affinity. " For years," said he, " I 
 have been like Pyramus, peeking and scratching at a 
 wall for Thisbe, only my Thisbe was never there." 
 But Pyramus Blake had found his mate, he swore, and 
 with huge delight he began devoting hours to chat with 
 Mrs. Whaling. 
 
 She was old enough to be his mother, though she 
 thought the fact was known to but few. She was as 
 prosaic as he was fanciful, though it was her aim to 
 appear at ease in all literary topics. She knew little or 
 nothing of music or the languages, but it was her im 
 plicit conviction that those by whom she was surrounded 
 knew less ; and she chiefly erred in assuming to know 
 that of which they frankly confessed their ignorance. 
 Aside from a consummate facility for blundering in 
 French, Mrs. Whaling possessed illimitable powers of 
 distortion of her mother-tongue, and this it was that so 
 fascinated and enraptured Blake on short acquaintance. 
 He rushed in one morning to tell Mrs. Stannard that 
 nothing but jealousy could have prompted her and the 
 other ladies in concealing from him Mrs. Whaling's 
 phenomenal gifts in this line, and proclaiming her the 
 sweetest sensation of his maturer years. If we have
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 273 
 
 failed thus far in pointing out some of the lingual 
 peculiarities which had won for this estimable lady the 
 title of Mrs. Malaprop, it was through the confidence 
 we felt that so soon as she began to talk for herself our 
 efforts would be rendered unnecessary. Overweening 
 interest in other ladies has kept her somewhat in the 
 background, a fact that detracts at once from all hope 
 of ever establishing the record of being faithfully his 
 toric, since all who knew Mrs. Whaling are aware that 
 nobody could ever keep her in the background in any 
 assemblage wherein she was permitted to speak for her 
 self. Perhaps it was therein that lay one of her direst 
 misfortunes, but she knew it not, poor lady, and like 
 too many of the rest of us, could never realize what 
 was and what was not best for her at the time. Will 
 the day ever come when the author of this will not 
 realize in mournful retrospect what an ass he made 
 of himself the twelvemonth previous ? Mrs. Whaling 
 had never studied French, but French was the lan 
 guage of courts and courtesy, and it sounded well, she 
 was convinced, to introduce occasional phrase or quota 
 tion in her daily conversation, and what she meant when 
 she used a big word in her own language was (as in 
 the case of honest Mr. Ballon) a secret between her 
 self and her Maker. 
 
 Mr. Blake had hobbled over to pay his respects soon 
 after his arrival, and was noticed shaking his head and 
 muttering to himself in perplexity at odd hours of the 
 day thereafter. The next morning he was seen to ex 
 plode, as Mrs. Whaling gravely announced among a 
 circle of her friends that she considered Miss Sanford 
 to be the most soi-disant creature she had ever met, and
 
 274 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 went on to explain for the benefit of those to whom her 
 French was an impenetrable mystery, " fascinating, or, 
 as they say, seductive." But when she soon thereafter 
 referred to the general's magnanimity in not remanding 
 to the guard-house an inebriated soldier, who had 
 dropped and broken a valuable lamp, because u he 
 knew it was only a lapsus linguae" Blake became her 
 slave, and hovered about her from morn till night in 
 hopes of further revelations. He was getting lots of 
 fun out of life just now despite his aches and pains, 
 and was being chaffed extensively for replacing so 
 readily the absent and lamented Gleason, the one thing 
 that seemed to mar his happiness. 
 
 Mrs. Truscott had been ailing for two or three days, 
 and the ladies were wont to stop at her door each morn 
 ing to make inquiries and suggestions. Mrs. Stannard 
 had virtually moved in next door, and was with her at 
 all times. Mr. Ray was a frequent visitor, despite the 
 fact that Mrs. Truscott was unable to see him (though 
 he always asked for her), and the garrison was arriving 
 at the not unjustifiable inference that other attractions 
 might draw him thither. He was still too lame to walk 
 or ride, had no duties to perform, and much time to 
 devote to calling ; but beyond leaving his card at the 
 commanding officer's and paying a courteous visit to 
 Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Wilkins, he made no garrison 
 calls at all, for the hours he spent with Mrs. Stannard 
 and Miss Sanford could hardly be so termed. He had 
 been at the post a week, and the adjutant and quarter 
 master of the little command had as yet failed to drop 
 in and welcome him. as is customary. They had called 
 on Blake when Ray was " up the row," but had not
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 275 
 
 left their cards or inquired for his comrade. Blake 
 thought it simply a piece of forgetfulness. Perhaps 
 they had asked and he had forgotten ; but Ray thought 
 otherwise, and still, oddly enough, did not seem to care. 
 He was happy in his day, and life had a new, strange, 
 sweet interest for him that, despite his past ephemeral 
 flames for one belle after another, was seriously influ 
 encing his life and character. 
 
 Blake wrote to his chums in the regiment that Billy 
 Ray wasn't half the fun he used to be. " Never knew 
 a fellow lose all his old self so quick. He has gone 
 back on potations and poker, and it hasn't improved 
 him a whit." There was another thing Blake growled 
 at : Ray was mixed up in some garrison mystery, and 
 wouldn't tell him anything about it. He had " pumped 
 him," so to speak, because Mrs. Turner kept nagging 
 him for information, and Ray had only colored and 
 stumbled painfully, and finally burst forth with, " See 
 here, Blake ; something has happened that I accident 
 ally got mixed up in, but it's a thing a man can't tell of, 
 so don't ask me ;" and Blake could only surmise. Then, 
 too, there was that desertion of Wolf's, Ray knew 
 something about it, and then the colonel had asked 
 him Blake a point-blank question about Ray's habits 
 which amazed him and set him to thinking. Then no 
 mail was received from the regiment for four days, and 
 they were all anxious ; and so this bright August morn 
 ing quite a party had gathered in front of Truscott's, 
 for a little batch of letters had just arrived, and they 
 were discussing contents and comparing notes. When 
 Mrs. Stannard came down-stairs, blithe and breezy as 
 ever, the ladies began their natural inquiries for Mrs,
 
 276 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Truscott. She had enjoyed a good night's rest, at times 
 at least, but had a severe nervous headache this morn 
 ing. This had prompted Mrs. Turner to remark that 
 nervous headaches were such trying things ; she could 
 never control them except by liberal use of bromides. 
 Mrs. Wilkins was of opinion that if ever she had one 
 she'd cut her head off before she'd use the likes such 
 stuff as that ; lapsing very nearly into the venw 'ilar 
 of her early days ; and Mrs. Whaling calmly an 
 nounced that nothing ever did her so much good as a 
 warm embryocation, whereat there was suppressed sen 
 sation on part of the ladies and convulsive throes by 
 Mr. Blake. Ray and Miss Sanford, absorbed in con 
 verse on the weather, were standing apart at the door 
 way and heard nothing of it. 
 
 Guard-mounting was over; the band had just fin 
 ished its morning programme of music and was going 
 away, when a sudden exclamation from Mrs. Turner 
 called all eyes to the form of the young post adjutant 
 coming up the row. 
 
 " Why ! What's Mr. Warner in full uniform for, 
 what can it mean ?" 
 
 Full uniform had not been worn at the post for any 
 duty since the command left for the front; guard- 
 mounting was in " undress," as only half a dozen men 
 were put on duty each day, and the military reader can 
 readily understand the sensation in the group as the 
 white plumes of the young adjutant were seen. There 
 is only one duty which, in the absence of courts-martial 
 and dress-parades or the like, will account for an adju 
 tant's appearing in full uniform at such an hour, and 
 he was coming straight toward them.
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 277 
 
 Conversation ceased at once in the group at the gate. 
 Ray and Miss Sanford, standing at the door-way, were 
 still absorbed in their chat, and saw and heard nothing 
 of what was coming. Mrs. Stannard turned pale and 
 trembled so that all could see it. Blake looked, as he 
 afterwards said, "six ways for Sunday;" then, as the 
 officer neared him, with attempted jocularity sang out, 
 
 " ' The king has come to marshal us in all his armor drest, 
 And he has donned his snow-white plume to put us in arrest.' 
 
 Who's your victim, Warner?" and then stopped short 
 as Warner brushed by, saying, in savage whisper, 
 
 " Shut up ! man, and get Ray away from this crowd 
 quick. I want him" 
 
 Blake simply stared. Mrs. Stannard turned quickly 
 and almost ran into the house. Mrs. Whaling lifted her 
 eyes heavenward, as though imploring Divine mercy on 
 the doomed one ; Mrs. Turner flushed, and looked won- 
 deringly from one to the other ; Mrs. Wilkins dropped 
 her parasol and picked it up pretty much as though it 
 were a shillelah and she meant to use it as such, and 
 then the group began to break up. Ray, glancing over 
 his shoulder to inquire the cause of the sudden cessation 
 of talk, caught sight of the snowy plume dancing on 
 up the walk, of Blake standing in petrified and indig 
 nant silence, and then of Mrs. Stannard's face, her 
 eyes filling with tears. He recalled instantly her recent 
 questions and half-uttered warnings, and something 
 told him the blow had come. He gave one quick look 
 at Miss Sinford ; their eyes met, and hers, too, were 
 full of trouble and something she could not express. 
 
 " Excuse me, but I want to inquire what this means," 
 24
 
 278 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 he said, and, bowing quietly, he turned to the gate whore 
 Blake still stood looking after Warner, who had halted 
 farther up the row. 
 
 " It's you, Billy boy ; and damn me if I don't be 
 lieve the world is mad !" 
 
 Ray stalked up the line fast as his halting gait would 
 admit. Wonderment, indignation, bitterness, were in 
 his heart, but he choked it all down, and his eyes were 
 fixed full upon the staff-officer, who, seeing him alone, 
 came rapidly back to meet him. Something of the old 
 reckless, dauntless manner reasserted itself as they 
 reached speaking distance. The adjutant was toying 
 nervously with his sword-knot. Despite all Gleason's 
 insinuations, despite official papers that had been going 
 to and fro, he felt it impossible to believe the allegations 
 against Mr. Ray, and his unbelief was never so pro 
 nounced as at this moment when they came together. 
 He had never seen it done before, but instinctively by 
 an impulse he could not restrain he raised his hand in 
 salute as he spoke the brief official words, 
 
 " Mr. Ray, you are hereby placed in close arrest, by 
 order of Colonel Whaling." 
 
 And Ray, with courteous return of the salute, replied 
 with almost smiling grace, 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Warner. I presume you will give 
 me prompt information as to the charges ;" and, facing 
 about, went slowly and deliberately to his quarters. 
 
 Mrs. Stannard stood at the door-way until she saw 
 him turn, then, taking Miss Sanford's hand, drew her 
 within the hall, saying simply, " Come." 
 
 " What can it mean, Mrs. Stannard ? Surely he 
 will stop and tell us."
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 279 
 
 "He cannot, Miss Marion. He must go direct to 
 his quarters. I will send Mr. Blake at once to him. 
 They are going now together. I shall go and find out 
 all I can. Do not tell Mrs. Truscott." 
 
 And without a word Marion Sanford went slowly up 
 the stairs and to her room. Mrs. Stannard listened 
 until she heard her close the door, then hastened down 
 the row in pursuit of Mr. Blake. Ray waved his hand 
 to her as he stepped inside the threshold, and Blake, 
 fuming with fury, came back to meet her. 
 
 " Was there ever such an outrage ? It is something 
 of Gleason's doing, of course, but Ray says he can stand 
 it if G. can, and is disposed to laugh it off; but there's 
 something else, I'm afraid ; have you heard anything ?" 
 
 " Nothing but vague rumors, Mr. Blake, but enough 
 to worry me. There is some deep-laid plot or I'm 
 fearfully mistaken. Gleason would never dare do it 
 alone. Can't you telegraph to the regiment and have 
 things stopped ?" 
 
 "They are far above Fetter man, and can only be 
 reached by courier. Webb and Gleason went out with 
 small escort last night, so the despatches say. By 
 Jove ! I'll try it. Surely the colonel and Stannard 
 and Wayne ought to be told. Wayne is still at Lara- 
 mie, but he^ would come. Something must be done to 
 block these lies whatever they are." 
 
 " Oh, if Luce were only where we could make him 
 hear ! Mr. Blake, can't you find out from Mr. Warner 
 what the trouble is, what the charges are ?' ' 
 
 " Of course I can. It is some mere local mischief 
 that fellow Gleason has kicked up. I'll go just as soon 
 as I've seen Billy."
 
 280 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 And go he did : and would have gone straight into 
 the old colonel's office even had that veteran not called 
 him in. And when next Mr. Blake appeared upon the 
 walk, the light had gone out of his face. He went 
 slowly, reluctantly, wretchedly, back down the row. 
 He could not bear to carry the news to Ray, yet he 
 had promised, and in his hand was a copy of the 
 charges and specifications preferred against his friend. 
 So far from being a mere local matter the arrest was 
 ordered from division headquarters, the court was al 
 ready selected, and the time fixed for its meeting. Long 
 before sunset the whole garrison knew and with what 
 additions and exaggerations who can say ? that Lieu 
 tenant Ray was to be tried by court-martial for offences 
 that reflected on the honor of the whole regiment, and 
 that accepting bribes and large sums of money from 
 prominent contractors while on the horse board, gam 
 bling with them and misappropriating public funds, 
 were the main allegations. The charges were signed 
 by a prominent staff-officer, -and Gleason's name only 
 appeared incidentally as a witness; so did that of 
 Rallston, Ray's brother-in-law ; but there were several 
 others. Blake laid the bulky paper before his friend 
 with this word, 
 
 " Before you say aye or nay to any one of the charges 
 in this batch of infamy, I want to say to you, Ray, 
 that I'll stake my commission on their utter falsity." 
 
 And he had said practically the same thing to the 
 post commander. 
 
 That afternoon Mr. Blake, after a long talk with 
 Ray, knocked at Mrs. Stannard's door and asked to see 
 her a moment. She came to him in dire anxiety.
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 281 
 
 Long before this had Mrs. Whaling been in to lament 
 over the downfall of this unhappy young man, and to 
 expatiate on the gravity of the charges. On Mrs. Stan- 
 . nard's making prompt and spirited expression of her 
 utter disbelief in them, the good lady had lifted her 
 eyes in pathetic appeal to heaven that so mercifully 
 enables us to bear the tribulations that befall our 
 friends, and groaned, a veritable Stiggins in skirts. 
 Ah, no ; she hoped, she prayed, of course, it might 
 prove false; but the general the general said the 
 array of witnesses was overwhelming, and then his 
 temptations ! and his past career ! She had been told 
 he was addicted to the vices of drink and cards in their 
 worst form. Ah, no ; it was futile to hope. She feared 
 the worst. And Mrs. Stannard was wellnigh ready to 
 bid her begone, the old croaking raven ! as down in 
 her inmost heart she termed her. She was full of faith 
 and loyalty, but she was fearfully worried, and Blake's 
 coming was a godsend. 
 
 " How is he ?" she asked. 
 
 "Astonished, of course; mad, not a little; but as 
 full of pluck as ever. What I want to see you about 
 is this. He forbids my telegraphing to have things 
 stopped. He wants a court, wants to be tried; the 
 quicker the better; says I can write to Stannard or 
 anybody, but not to think of stopping proceedings. 
 All he seems to care for is this : he fully expected to be 
 well enough to travel in two weeks, and then he wanted 
 to join the regiment as fast as horse could take him. 
 All that is now impossible. He has not said a word 
 about Gleason, but I have sent a couple of telegrams 
 from him that will make his brother-in-law smart." 
 24*
 
 282 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " And have you telegraphed to Fort Fetterman !' 
 I'm sure they would have a chance to send the news." 
 
 "Yes, of course I did. What I can't get over is 
 this: that much of this matter must have been re-, 
 ported through old Whaling here by Gleason, and it 
 has all been done in the dark. The old rip never gave 
 us a chance to refute any story that Gleason would tell. 
 Did you hear about Ray's message to him ?" 
 
 " No. When what was it ?" 
 
 " Instead of asking to see the commanding officer, as 
 the average officer does when put in arrest for a thing 
 he is innocent of, Ray never mentioned him. About 
 an hour ago I met the colonel, and he asked me how 
 Ray was behaving, and was beginning something about 
 not letting him drink, when I could hold in no longer, 
 and told him flatly that Ray hadn't taken as many 
 drinks in a month as he had in a day. You ought 
 to have seen him ; he was struck all aback, and stam 
 mered something about his having been led to suppose 
 Ray was doing a good deal of that sort of thing. I 
 replied that that wasn't the only thing he had been 
 misinformed about by a jugful, and he looked as 
 though he'd like to put me in arrest too the old slab ; 
 he would, too, if he had the grit of his wife ; but he 
 didn't. He sent Warner down just a moment ago to 
 say that if Mr. Ray desired to speak to him about the 
 matter he would see him this evening, as ' he desired to 
 go to town on the morrow.' Ray begged Warner to 
 sit down, offered him a toddy or a glass of wine, and, 
 finally, as though it had suddenly occurred to him, 
 exclaimed, ' Oh ! Do I want to see the colonel ? Why, 
 really, Mr. Warner, I know of nothing that well,
 
 IN CLOSE ARREST. 283 
 
 you might say this, you know : it isn't at all necessary 
 that I should see him, and I do not send this as a mes 
 sage ; but, as the colonel appears to have furnished much 
 of the information on these charges without reference 
 to me, I shall probably answer them in the same way, 
 without reference to him.' Gad ! I never saw Ray 
 more placidly polite, and he's always most full of fight 
 at such times." 
 
 But even with such " an old slab" as Whaling any 
 thing more impolitic than the conduct of these two 
 cavalry subalterns could hardly have been imagined. 
 Warner never told the colonel what Ray said ; but, of 
 course, had to say that Ray expressed no desire to see 
 him. By the following morning the colonel was cha 
 fing over it a great deal, and over the indignation ex 
 pressed around the post at Ray's arrest. He concluded 
 that he wanted to see the young man himself, and an 
 opportunity unexpectedly occurred. Sergeant Wolf's 
 recent desertion was still a source of much subdued ex 
 citement, and efforts had been made to capture him. 
 It had begun to leak around the garrison that he had 
 been sent for the night of his departure by Lieutenant 
 Ray, and did not return to the band barracks until 
 eleven o'clock, " when he acted queer." The post 
 quartermaster was much exercised about the theft of 
 one of the best horses from the band stable, as he had 
 become responsible for them in the absence of Mr. Bil 
 lings. Possibly Ray could throw some light on the 
 matter, and, to that officer's surprise, he was sent for at 
 guard-mounting. His first idea was that his remarks 
 to Warner had been carried to the colonel, and that he 
 was to be overhauled for them. His head was perhaps
 
 284 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 a trifle higher than usual, therefore, when he entered 
 the office. The first question sent the blood surging to 
 his forehead, and he almost staggered with surprise. 
 
 "Mr. Ray," said the colonel, abruptly, "do you 
 know anything of the causes of Wolf's desertion ?" 
 
 It was a moment before he could reply. Know? 
 Of course he knew ; but it was a thing to be sacredly 
 guarded. He could not tell of that interview without 
 betraying Aer, without bringing Grace Truscott's name 
 into the very snare that Gleason had laid for it. The 
 colonel saw his hesitation, and wheeled around in his 
 chair ; Mr. Warner looked up in surprise. 
 
 " I say, do you know anything of Wolf's desertion, 
 of its causes, of where he has probably gone ?" repeated 
 the colonel, sharply. 
 
 "I do not know where he has gone, sir; I have 
 formed an opinion as to the cause of his desertion." 
 
 " And what is it, Mr. Ray?" 
 
 " If it concerned me, I would answer unhesitatingly, 
 Colonel Whaling. As it is, I cannot." 
 
 " What possible reason can there be for silence, sir ? 
 I do not understand." 
 
 " I cannot explain it now, sir. Let me simply as 
 sure you that I never saw him until within the last 
 few days, that I had an interview with him the night 
 of his desertion, and that he has had some trouble of 
 a personal and private nature. Other than that I can 
 give no account of him." 
 
 " This is most extraordinary, Mr. Ray. How came 
 you to know anything of his private history, sir ?" 
 
 " I decline to say, sir." 
 
 " By heavens, Mr. Ray ! Do you realize that in
 
 /AT CLOSE ARREST. 285 
 
 addition to the other charges against you, you are lay 
 ing yourself open to those of abetting desertion ?" 
 
 " Possibly, sir. If so, I can meet them before the 
 proper tribunal." 
 
 " You may go, sir. Stop ! one moment : I have 
 telegraphed to Sidney, to Denver, and to Laramie City 
 to be on the lookout for him. I demand to know 
 whether you have an idea where he has gone ; that you 
 can answer !" 
 
 " I have not, colonel." 
 
 " Do you think of any place I have not mentioned 
 where he would be apt to go ?" 
 
 Ray turned whiter now, but his eyes were unflinch 
 ing. 
 
 " I do ; but it is only conjecture." 
 
 "What place, sir?" 
 
 " Fort Fetterman." 
 
 "Fort Fetterman? That's simply absurd! He 
 would be recognized there with his horse and surely 
 arrested." 
 
 " Very well, sir ; then I know of no other." 
 
 "And you still refuse to tell what your interview 
 was about?" 
 
 "I shall always refuse that, sir." And therewith 
 Mr. Ray was remanded to his quarters. Verily there 
 was some reason for Blake's outburst when he came in 
 after hearing Warner's brief description of the official 
 interview which Mrs. Whaling had given in lurid ex 
 aggeration to the garrison. 
 
 " "Why, hell is empty, and all the devils are here."
 
 286 MARIOJSTS FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 
 
 FAR away to the northwest this night, close under 
 the shoulders of the Big Horn Mountains, a regiment 
 of cavalry has gone into bivouac after a day's march 
 through blistering sun-glare and alkali. Hour after 
 hour, with strained, aching eyes, they have been watch 
 ing the gradually-nearing dome of Cloud Peak, still 
 glistening white though this is August. Around 
 the blunt elbow of the mountains, two days' marcli 
 away to the north, they expect to find the Gray Fox 
 and all his men eagerly awaiting their coming. A 
 courier from the front has brought them tidings that 
 the Indians are in force all over the country west of the 
 Cheetish group. Another courier has galloped after 
 them from Fetterman, leaving there last night, and he 
 brings strange news. 
 
 During the long, dusty, burning day Captain Webb 
 and Mr. Gleason have joined the command and re 
 ported for duty. To the disgust of the young second 
 lieutenant commanding Wayne's troop in his absence, 
 the colonel directs Mr. Gleason, the senior lieutenant 
 now for duty, to assume command of it for the cam 
 paign. Captain Truscott has no objections. He pre 
 fers not to have Mr. Gleason with his own troop, and 
 Stannard is glad to get him out of his battalion. Very 
 few men are glad to see Gleason, though nearly all the
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 287 
 
 officers go to him for letters and news. They bring a 
 small packet of mail, and on the way Gleason has 
 made himself very interesting to Webb, and has easily 
 gathered from that simple-minded gentleman that there 
 was an awkward tableau at Truscott's when he went 
 there to say good-by. " Confidentially," Gleason had 
 let him understand that he had seen only one of many 
 symptoms that had given much food for talk at Rus 
 sell ; that to his, Gleason's, bitter regret he feared Mrs. 
 Truscott had not been as discreet as she should with a 
 fellow like Ray, who was well had Webb heard any 
 thing of that horse board business, etc.? It was so 
 easy, it is so easy, more's the pity, to say so very 
 much in saying very little, when the good name of man 
 or woman is at stake. Long before they got to the 
 regiment Webb was convinced that he had seen very 
 much more than he really did at Russell, and he had 
 heard a volume of gossip that, after all, he could not 
 have asserted was told him by Gleason, yet had been 
 most deftly suggested. Gleason was deep. He knew 
 that they brought with them the mail of the last stage 
 reaching Fetterman for three days. Further news 
 would not be apt to come by letter for a week, by 
 which time the regiment would probably be hotly en 
 gaged, and he himself called back by telegraphic order 
 as an important witness before the court. This latter 
 probability he mentioned to no one. He meant to be 
 grievously surprised and disgusted when the orders 
 came recalling him, and until then his cards had to be 
 carefully played. None of the ladies at Russell who 
 knew him at all had intrusted him with letters. All 
 theirs had gone by mail or by Captain Webb, but when
 
 288 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 the mail was opened at Fetterman, Gleason promptly 
 offered to carry forward anything there might be for 
 the officers of his regiment, and on the way this was 
 carefully assorted. He had met Stannard and Truscott 
 with beaming cordiality, saying, " Ah ! you well knew 
 I would not come without letters from your better 
 halves," and fumbling in inner pockets as though they 
 had been stored there ever since leaving Russell. 
 
 It was not until late that afternoon that Major Stan 
 nard received from Webb the message sent by his good 
 wife, and he was pondering in his mind what it could 
 mean, when at sunset Truscott strolled over from his 
 troop to see him. Gleason by this time was being 
 very sociable with the colonel and Mr. Billings. 
 
 " Have you anything from Mrs. Stannard later than 
 the letter you spoke of this afternoon, major ?" asked 
 the captain, whose face was somewhat anxious. 
 
 " Why, yes, Truscott ; Webb brought me a message 
 that he said Mrs. Stannard gave him at the last mo 
 ment, to the effect that she would have a long letter for 
 me by next mail, and to be sure and get it. It seems 
 a little odd." 
 
 "My last is a pencilled note from Mrs. Truscott, 
 written but a few moments before the stage started. 
 She says she sends it out to Fetterman by the driver, 
 and I suppose our old { striker' easily got him to take 
 it ; but she speaks of being far from well, nervous, etc., 
 and that Mrs. Staunard is such a blessing to her, so 
 constantly with her. I wish there were something 
 more definite. She writes three pages for the purpose 
 of telling me not to be anxious, and the very nervous 
 ness and tremulous style give me some cause for worry."
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 289 
 
 " Why, in my letter Mrs. Stannard speaks of Mrs. 
 Truscott as being so bright and well, and of their 
 having such good times together, and being so charmed 
 with Miss Sanford. It hardly seems there could have 
 been so sudden a change in one day." 
 
 But there had been, as we know, and a change as 
 sudden was coming to the current of events in the har 
 monious th. Just after dark a courier on jaded 
 horse came riding in from the south. He brought 
 telegraphic despatches to the colonel and one to Major 
 Stannard. The latter read his by the light of his 
 camp-lantern, gave a long whistle of amaze and dis 
 gust, and sung out for Truscott as he rolled from 
 under his blankets. The trumpets were just sounding 
 tattoo, and Stannard and other officers had turned in 
 early, preparatory to the start at four in the morn 
 ing. While waiting for Truscott's coming, the major 
 could see that at the colonel's tent there was also ex 
 citement and a gathering of several officers. He 
 had not long to wait. Truscott joined him in a few 
 moments. 
 
 " I called you here because it was where we could 
 talk unobserved. What do you say to that ?" And he 
 handed him the despatch. 
 
 Truscott read without a word, and then stood there 
 a moment earnestly thinking, his lips firmly set, a 
 dark shadow settling on his forehead. The message 
 was as follows : 
 
 " Kay arrested. Horse board charges cooked up here by Glea 
 son. Court ordered from Chicago. All staff or infantry officers. 
 Make Gleason name authorities before regiment. 
 
 " BLAKE." 
 N t 25
 
 290 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Stannard had thrust his head forward and his hands 
 into his breeches-pockets. 
 
 " Now, isn't that simply damnable ?" he asked. 
 
 "You do not believe Ray guilty, do you?" was 
 Truscott's response. 
 
 " No, I don't," though there was hesitating accent 
 on the don't. Stannard hated to be thought unprepared 
 for any trait in a fellow-man good or bad. " What 
 can the charges be ? Eay told me he had neither gam 
 bled nor drank." 
 
 " Something has been received at the colonel's. 
 Billings was there opening and reading despatches 
 when you called me." And Truscott nodded thither. 
 
 "Come on. I'm going to see this thing through 
 now," said Stannard, and together they walked to 
 headquarters. 
 
 The colonel, wrapped in his overcoat, was sitting up 
 at the head of his camp-bed noting with a pencil a few 
 memoranda, while Billings was reading aloud in a low 
 voice some long despatches. Outside the tent were 
 grouped half a dozen officers, waiting for such news as 
 the colonel might give. Beyond them were the scat 
 tered and smouldering fires, the rude shelter-tents of 
 the men, the white tops of the army wagons ; beyond 
 these the dark outlines of the massive hills ; above them 
 all the brilliant, placid stars ; around them the hush of 
 nature, broken only by the drowsing swish and plash 
 of rapid, running waters, the stir of the night wind in 
 the scattered trees, the stamp and snort of some startled 
 troop-horse, the distant challenge of the night sentries. 
 Something important had come, and the group looked 
 eagerly at Stanuard and Truscott as they approached.
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 291 
 
 " Have you heard anything ?" was the question. 
 
 " I've got a despatch," said Stannard, gruffly ; " but 
 I want to see the colonel before I speak of it." . Then 
 the colonel's voice was heard, 
 
 " That you, Stannard ? Come in here." 
 
 And the major passed into the tent. Presently he 
 came out, took Truscott by the arm and led him away. 
 
 "No use talking to him to-night. He has nothing 
 but the official despatches, and they look ugly for Ray. 
 There are other things that occupy him now, but what 
 we want is to see Gleason right off. He is ordered to 
 return at once, and goes back in the morning. Come." 
 
 Over in the second battalion a sentry pointed out 
 Gleason's tent. Stannard scratched and rattled at the 
 flap. No answer. " Gleason !" he called. No reply. 
 " He's shamming sleep, by gad !" growled the major, 
 between his teeth. "It's only fifteen minutes since 
 Billings told him he was to start back at daybreak. 
 He wants to avoid us, and has his flaps all tied inside. 
 I'll have him out or bring his damned tent down about 
 his ears." And it was plain that Stannard was getting 
 excited. An officer came through the gloom. It was 
 Captain Webb. 
 
 "Isn't this Gleason's tent?" called the majoi. 
 
 " Certainly. I left him there not half an hour ago," 
 replied the captain. " Wake him up. He's got to go 
 back in the morning." 
 
 " Yes, sir. And that's just what I want to see him 
 about. Hullo ! you there ! Gleason !" 
 
 There came from within a snort, as of one suddenly 
 awakened, a sleepy yawn, an imbecile " Oh ah er 
 who is it?"
 
 292 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " It's me, Stannard ; and I want you," was the 
 reply, all the more forcible for being ungrammatic. 
 
 "Oh,! One minute, major, and I'll be with you," 
 called the inmate, as though overcome with sudden ac 
 cess of joy, and presently he appealed, half dressed. 
 
 " See here, Gleason, Captain Truscott and I have 
 come to inquire what you know of the charges against 
 Mr. Ray. You are to go back at once, I'm told, as 
 witness against him. There won't be a soul there of 
 his regiment or his friends, for we know well you're 
 not one, to speak for him. By thunder ! what have 
 you against him ?" 
 
 " I do not think this a matter on which I should 
 speak at all, Major Stannard, except to proper authority. 
 The court will hear the evidence in due season." 
 
 " Well, I mean to hear something now, Mr. Gleason, 
 or, by the eternal ! I'll wake up the whole command to 
 put the question. What you make one believe is, that 
 you are seeking to ruin Ray by getting him at a disad 
 vantage with all his friends away. Captain Truscott, 
 what do you say ?" 
 
 And then Truscott spoke. As usual, he was master 
 of himself and showed no vestige of temper. 
 
 " The matter is very simple, Mr. Gleason. You are 
 believed to be the accuser of Mr. Ray at a moment 
 when it is certain the regiment is going to be so far 
 away that its officers cannot be present at the court, 
 may not even be able to communicate with it. If you 
 decline to indicate what you know to Major Stannard 
 and me, who are his friends, the immediate protest of 
 the regiment against your conduct must go to head 
 quarters with the request that the court be held until
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 293 
 
 we can appear before it. More than that, in two days 
 we will reach the general commanding the department. 
 Do you fancy he will permit Mr. Ray, of all others, to 
 be brought to trial without a friend to appear for him ?" 
 
 Gleason saw he was cornered. What he hoped, 
 what he expected, was to make his escape and get back 
 before any one learned of the charges. That hope was 
 frustrated. In his wrath and perplexity he resorted to 
 the invariable device of the cowardly and the low. He 
 must divert their sympathy for Ray into distrust of 
 him, and before he had fully considered his words they 
 were spoken, crafty, insidious, and calumniatory. 
 
 " Captain Truscott, you have spoken without threat 
 ening me, and I'll answer you. All this time I've been 
 striving not to see, not to know Mr. Ray's offences ; 
 but I was on the horse board. You were not. Ask 
 Captain Buxton to-morrow who and what Ray's asso 
 ciates were ; but let me say to you right here that I can 
 no longer submit to seeing you deceived. You call 
 Ray your friend. No man can be a worse friend than 
 he who sets a whole garrison talking about an absent 
 comrade's wife and the notes she writes him, and who 
 is discovered alone with her, she in tears, he burning 
 a letter. Webb witnessed it. Ask him." 
 
 The last words were spoken with utmost haste, with 
 upraised hand, with trembling lips, for both Truscott 
 and Stannard almost savagely sprang towards him as 
 though to cram the words down his throat. For an 
 instant Truscott stood glaring at him, not daring to 
 speak until he could resume his self-command ; but in 
 that instant poor, perturbed Webb broke into speech. 
 
 " Oh, come now, Gleason, that's all aii outrageous 
 25*
 
 294 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 way of putting it, you know. Of course I saw there 
 was some little trouble. Mrs. Truscott had written to 
 Ray because she was all upset about something ; she 
 was crying, you know, and Ray might have just hap 
 pened in " 
 
 " Never mind, Webb. Don't speak a word ; of 
 course it is all easily explained. No man on earth is 
 more welcome at my home than Ray, and my wife is 
 one of his warmest friends. What I have to say is to 
 you," said Truscott, turning fully upon his subaltern. 
 " If I needed one further proof to assure me that you 
 were the lowest and most intriguing scoundrel that 
 walks the earth, you have given it this night. Gen 
 tlemen, you are witness to my words." And with that 
 he walked away. 
 
 " And I say, Mr. Gleason, that if ever I lose a 
 chance of showing you up in your true colors before 
 this regiment, may the Lord forgive me ! We're 
 booked for the campaign now ; but if you don't appear 
 before that court with credentials that would damn even 
 an Indian agent it won't be the fault of the th Cav 
 alry : and I mean to start about it to-night." 
 
 And he did. Old Stannard had a stormy interview 
 with the colonel forthwith, and stirred up Bucketts, 
 the quartermaster, and Raymond and Turner and Mer 
 rill among the captains, and even thought of rousing 
 Canker, but concluded not to ; and they raked out their 
 pencils, and when the escort started back next morning 
 with Mr. Gleason, the sergeant was intrusted with a 
 batch of letters to various staff-officers setting forth in 
 unequivocal terms Gleason's reputation as opposed to 
 Ray's brilliant and gallant, if somewhat reckless, record.
 
 A CORNERED RAT. 295 
 
 Even the colonel, inspired by Stannard's fiery eloquence, 
 sent a few lines to the general commanding the divis 
 ion, expressing the desire in the regiment that there 
 should be a suspension of proceedings against Ray 
 until they could get in from the campaign. Even Bil 
 lings turned to at Stannard's urging, and wrote person 
 ally to Ray and to the officer who was named as judge- 
 advocate of the court, and everybody felt glad to be 
 rid of Gleason as he rode homeward in gloomy silence. 
 Everybody felt that he would be powerless for harm, 
 little dreaming how ineffectual those letters would be as 
 far as the present case against Ray was concerned ; lit 
 tle dreaming how his going was but the means of coil 
 ing still more closely the folds of suspicion and dishonor 
 around the gallant comrade whom all so gloried in for 
 his summer's work ; little dreaming of the days of 
 doubt and darkness and tragedy that were to envelop 
 those they left behind at Russell ; little dreaming that 
 from them and from friends at home there was coming 
 utter isolation, that before them lay days and weeks 
 of toil and danger and privation, of stirring fight, of . 
 drooping spirits, of hunger, weakness, ay, starvation, 
 wounds, and lonely death ; little dreaming that when 
 next they reached a point where news from home could 
 come to them one-half their gallant horses would be 
 gone, broken down, starved, or shot to death ; many of 
 their own number would have fallen by the way, and 
 that of the bold, warlike array that rode buoyantly in 
 among the welcoming comrades in the camp of the 
 Gray Fox, only a gaunt, haggard, tattered, unkempt 
 shadow would remain, when, eight long weeks there 
 after, there came to them the next sad news of Ray.
 
 296 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 KAY'S TROUBLES. 
 
 " HERE we are, Billy ! Whoop ! What did I tell 
 you? Official communications disrupt bad grammar. 
 The chief sends back your letter. Wants it changed 
 again, I suppose. It's the old, old story, 
 
 1 You can and you can't, 
 You will and you won't ; 
 You'll be damned if you do, 
 You'll be damned if you don't.' " 
 
 Ray took the paper with a hand that was hot and 
 flushed. For a week he had been in close confine 
 ment, and that and a complication of annoyances and 
 , worries had combined to make him fretful ; then some 
 grave anxieties were added to his troubles ; and then, 
 his quick, impetuous nature had done the rest. He 
 had no cool-headed adviser in Blake, who had taken up 
 the fight with him, and now he was involved in an 
 official tussle with the post authorities that added 
 greatly to his fevered condition. He was sore in body, 
 for the wound in his thigh was now beginning to trouble 
 him again. He was sore at heart, for, except the im 
 politic Blake, he did not seem to have a friend in the 
 world. There had come one or two kind little notes 
 from the ladies " up the row," as they called the Stan-
 
 RAY'S TROUBLES. 297 
 
 nard-Truscott household when they did not care to be 
 more explicit ; but these had ceased, and what was 
 worse, in his days of worry and trouble and heartsick- 
 ness, Ray had sought comfort in an old solace, that had 
 done no great harm when he was living his vigorous 
 out-of-door life, but was playing the mischief with his 
 judgment and general condition now that he was 
 penned up in the narrow limits of his quarters. Very, 
 very anxious had Mrs. Stannard's face become ; very 
 wistful and anxious, too, was Miss Sanford's ; and very 
 sympathetic was Mrs. Truscott's. The first few days 
 of his arrest they used to stroll down the line, and make 
 it a point to go there and chat with him on his piazza ; 
 and this exasperated old Whaling, who was indignant 
 that the cavalry ladies should make a martyr of their 
 regimental culprit. The third day of his arrest, they 
 were all seated there on the piazza, while Ray sat at his 
 open window, and Hogan, his orderly, had led Dandy 
 around to the front, and the pretty sorrel the light 
 of his master's eyes until eclipsed by one before which 
 even Dandy's paled its ineffectual fire was cropping the 
 juicy herbage in the little grass plat in front of the 
 piazza and being fed with loaf-sugar by delicate hands. 
 Blake w r as sprawled over the railing, limp and long- 
 legged, chatting with Mrs. Truscott. Miss Sanford 
 was seated nearer the window, where Ray's eager eyes 
 seemed to chain her, and Mrs. Stannard was doing most 
 of the talk, for they seemed strangely silent. It was a 
 pleasant picture of loyalty and esprit de corps, thought 
 Mr. Warner, as he came down from the office ; but to 
 old Whaling, coming home crabbed from the store, 
 where his post quartermaster had beaten him several
 
 98 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 games of pool, it was a galling sight. The ladies bowed 
 in quiet, modified courtesy, there was no cordiality 
 whatever in it. Blake straightened up and saluted hia 
 (superior in a purely perfunctory style that had nothing 
 of deference and little of respect in it, and the colonel 
 and his quartermaster both raised their caps in evi 
 dent embarrassment. They looked back at Dandy 
 after they had passed on a few rods, and Blake mut 
 tered, 
 
 " Now, Billy boy, they'll be sending you a note to 
 keep your horse out of your front yard hereafter." 
 But Blake had undershot the mark. 
 
 That evening there came bad news. Rallston had 
 been named as one of the principal witnesses, and Ray 
 had telegraphed and written to his sister at Omaha 
 asking where he was. His letter explained the situa 
 tion he was in, and, though he would say nothing to 
 accuse her husband, he told her that one of the alle 
 gations was that he had accepted five hundred dollars 
 from him as a bribe to induce him to " pass" certain 
 horses. The facts were these : Rallston had been among 
 the first to welcome him to Kansas City, had taken him 
 to his own rooms, had been most cordial and kind, had 
 brought all manner of loving inquiries from sister Nell, 
 and an invitation from her to visit them at Omaha be 
 fore his return. Ray did not and would not drink 
 anything beyond a little wine at dinner, nor could he 
 be induced to touch a card at play, though every even 
 ing some of Rallston's friends were there playing poker, 
 and Ray was a laughing and interested spectator. In 
 the course of two or three days Rallston had grown 
 very confidential, and had finally, most gracefully, told
 
 RAF'S TROUBLES. 299 
 
 Ray that he 1 ad disliked to mention it until he felt he 
 knew him well, Lut that Nelly had told him her brother 
 had some outstanding debts ; he .owed money to several 
 different parties and it worried him ; they were dunning 
 him all at the same time, and he could only meet their 
 claims successively. " Now," said Rallston, " why not 
 let me be your banker ? Let me hand you the amount 
 you owe these fellows. Pay 'em off at once, and then 
 you're a free man. You can repay me when you 
 choose, and if you never do, why, it's all right it's 
 Nell's present to you. I've got several thousand dol 
 lars in the bank this moment that I've no use fbr ;" and 
 Ray had thanked him from the bottom of his heart and 
 accepted. Later there began to grow a breach. Rall 
 ston had quickly seen how keen an eye Ray had for 
 defects in horseflesh, and had striven to get him to ac 
 cept some horses he knew to be " off color." Ray had 
 firmly refused. Then, later, he asked Ray to sign an 
 I. O. U. for the five hundred dollars, which was done, 
 and the next thing he noticed Rallston was consorting 
 with Gleason ; and when the board adjourned there was 
 no Rallston to say good-by. Ray went to Omaha and 
 saw his sister, who was rejoiced to hear how generously 
 her husband had behaved, but Ray was a trifle worried 
 then at her repeated questions about him, though Nell 
 was brave and buoyant as ever. She was living at the 
 hotel until his return, and he did not return up to the 
 time Ray left for the regiment. Ray had written to 
 him and received no reply. Now he had written to her 
 asking where he was, and thou she broke down and told 
 him. She had not seen her husband for a month, and 
 had only an occasional line. She needed money at that
 
 300 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 moment and knew not where to find him. She thanked 
 God they had no children. 
 
 This was one letter to cause Ray bitter anxiety. 
 Another came that he read with infinite surprise, 
 turned over the enclosure in his hand, rose and looked 
 through his bureau-drawer, and then, with a long 
 whistle of consternation and perplexity, shoved the 
 note and enclosure into his pocket. 
 
 All that night he was restless and feverish. The 
 next morning brought a new trouble. Once let a fellow 
 get in arrest and all the buzzing contents of Pandora's 
 box will be turned loose upon his unlucky head. He 
 had risen late, could eat no breakfast, and his wound 
 was troubling him. There came a knock at the door, 
 and the orderly with the commanding officer's compli 
 ments, " Was that horse of the lieutenant's private or 
 public property ?" 
 
 " Why, public, of course," said Ray ; " but say to 
 the colonel that each officer of the th Cavalry has 
 been allowed to use one horse for campaign purposes to 
 be considered as his own." 
 
 Blake had gone off somewhere. It was too early for 
 the ladies. Ray fretted and worried, wondering what 
 this new move could portend, when he heard a row in 
 the back-yard ; and in came Hogan, full of fight and 
 wrath. 
 
 " There's a doughboy sergeant out there, sir, as says 
 he's ordered to take Dandy to the quartermaster's 
 stables, an' I told him to go to blazes, an' whin he 
 shtepped by me an' into the paddock an' began un- 
 tyin' him, I told him he had a right to shpake to you 
 furrst, an' he said he'd slap me into the gyard-house if
 
 TROUBLES. 301 
 
 I gave him any lip, and I turned the kay on him, sir, 
 an' here it is. I locked 'em both in, sir. Shure they 
 couldn't take the lootenant's horse without his knovvin' 
 it, sir." 
 
 Ray took the key and hobbled out to his back door, 
 simply telling Hogan to come with him. He was 
 thunderstruck at the idea of their taking Dandy from 
 him. He never thought of that as a possibility 
 Dandy, who seemed after that wild night-ride to be 
 part of himself. 
 
 "Go and .open the door, v and tell the sergeant to 
 come here," said Kay. 
 
 But the instant the sergeant was released, he rushed 
 out with fury in his eye, fell upon Hogan, seized him 
 by the collar, and, with rage in every word and exple 
 tive, ordered him to go with him to the guard-house, 
 swearing he'd teach him to resist an officer in the dis 
 charge of his duty. Hogan clinched his fist and looked 
 first as though he would knock the sergeant into the 
 next yard, which he was physically able to do, but dis 
 cipline prevailed ; he lifted neither hand nor voice, but 
 simply looked appealingly at his own officer as the 
 sergeant marched him past. Ray called to the irate 
 infantryman to hold on a moment, he would explain ; 
 but Ray was in arrest and could give no orders. The 
 sergeant knew that for the time being he was virtually 
 the superior. He simply did not choose to hear the 
 lieutenant, but went on with his prisoner across the 
 parade, lodged him in the guard-house, then went to 
 the quartermaster's and reported that he had been vio 
 lently resisted by private Hogan, locked up by him in 
 
 the paddock with the horse, and that as soon as he 
 
 26
 
 302 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 could get out he had " arrested private Hogan and 
 confined him by your order, sir/ 7 the customary for 
 mula in such cases made and provided. 
 
 Meantime, Dandy, finding himself untied and the 
 stable-door open, had ventured forth from the paddock 
 while his master had hurried through the house to 
 again fruitlessly call to the sergeant from the front 
 door, and as the sorrel sniffed the mountain breeze and 
 felt the glow of the sunshine on his glistening coat, all 
 his love for a wild gallop had possessed him ; he trotted 
 out on the triangle in rear of the houses, looked tri 
 umphantly about him a second or two with his head 
 high in air, his nostrils quivering, and his eyes dilating, 
 then with a joyous snort and two or three exuberant 
 plunges, with streaming mane and tail he tore away 
 northward, and went careering over the prairie. Miss 
 Sanford, seated near her window in an arm-chair 
 and a revery, heard the thunder of hoofs, and ran to 
 see what it meant. She stood some minutes watching 
 Dandy racing riderless over the springy turf before 
 she knew that Grace, too, was by her side gazing from 
 the same window. If Billy Ray could have seen those 
 two faces when Marion turned to her friend the quick, 
 hot flush on one, the speaking eyes of both he would 
 never have done what he did do, turn back to his 
 room with a bitter imprecation on his lips, with anger 
 and desolation in his heart, and, raising his hands in 
 almost tragic gesture of impotent wrath as he glared 
 around at the walls of his undeserved prison, he heartily 
 damned the fates that had consigned him to the unsym- 
 pathizing limits of an infantry garrison ; he heartily in 
 cluded the colonel and quartermaster in his sweeping
 
 RAY'S TROUBLES. 303 
 
 anathema ; and then oh, Ray ! Ray ! it was so weak, 
 so pitifully weak ! he dragged forth the old demijohn, 
 filled and drank a bumper of rye, hurled the goblet 
 into flinders against the door, and threw himself upon 
 his bed in an ecstasy of pent-up wrath and misery, 
 just as Blake came tearing in to tell of Dandy's esca 
 pade. Yes, it was wofully weak, but as wofully 
 human. 
 
 That the breach between the post authorities and the 
 cavalry officers was widened by the day's occurrences 
 goes without saying. Blake went and asked for Hogan's 
 release on the ground that as a cavalryman he had done 
 perfectly right in refusing to let the horse go until he 
 had seen his own officer, but the colonel properly re 
 plied that that by no means justified or explained his 
 locking up the sergeant, and in plain language said that 
 Hogan should be tried forthwith. Blake then urged 
 that Dandy, being a regimental horse, should be re 
 turned to Mr. Ray, as the colonel well knew the cir 
 cumstances that had endeared them to each other ; but 
 the colonel replied that an officer in arrest had no use 
 for a horse, and that Mr. Ray had no right to a public 
 animal anyway. Again had the colonel law and right 
 on his side. Then Blake declared that the whole regi 
 ment would resent such an action, and the colonel was 
 punishing Ray before he was even tried ; and the colo 
 nel, who was meek as Moses in the presence of his 
 wife, and who preferred peace to war when there was 
 any chance of becoming personally involved, but knew 
 his strategical strength in this contest and was prepared 
 to use it, most properly, pointedly, and justifiably told 
 Mr. Blake that unless he, too, desired to figure as the
 
 304 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 accused before a court-martial for insubordinate con 
 duct, he would mend his ways forthwith ; meantime, 
 to leave the office. And Blake went. 
 
 If Blake had been wise as Gleason he would have 
 cultivated Mrs. Whaling's society instead of dropping 
 her, as he did in this critical state of aifairs. When 
 the good lady called to see the ladies of the cavalry 
 the next morning, she referred with poignant sorrow to 
 the fact that those two misguided young men were 
 drowning their sorrows in the flowing bowl. Mrs. 
 Stannard ventured a disclaimer, but Mrs. Whaling 
 had her information straight from the quartermaster, 
 and was not to be downed. Mrs. Stannard wrote a 
 few earnest words to Mr. Ray, making no mention 
 of what she had just heard, but begging him not to 
 lose heart at having to part with Dandy, and saying 
 they would all be down to see him the next afternoon, 
 and he must be sure and be ready to welcome them. 
 Ray and Blake had been drinking confusion to the 
 doughboys together during the evening, and the former 
 was very feverish and excitable when the letter came. 
 He knew well that somebody had already been telling 
 her of his weakness, and it only angered him. He 
 wrote no answer until later in the day ; but when he 
 did, it was to say that while he would be glad to see 
 them to-morrow as suggested, he could not but feel dis 
 appointed that they had not come this very afternoon. 
 But as they had not come, he and Blake proceeded to 
 get into more mischief. 
 
 It almost broke Ray's heart when that morning 
 Dandy was led past his window, and presently he saw 
 the post quartermaster, a bulky youth of some forty
 
 TROUBLES. 30i 
 
 summers, climb on his back, get a rein in each hand, 
 and with knees well hunched up and elbows braced, 
 settle himself according to his ideas of equestrianism 
 in the big padded saddle. As Dandy felt a trifle fresh, 
 and chafed under the weight of the heavy rider and 
 heavy dragoon bit, he switched his tail and tossed his 
 head, being instantly rewarded by a fierce jerk on the 
 huge curb and a shout of " whoa there !" that stung 
 him into amazed and suffering revolt and drove poor 
 Ray almost distracted. Dandy's mouth was tender as 
 a woman's. Ray rode him with the veries* feather 
 touch on the rein, and to see his pet tortured by such 
 ignorance was more than he could stand. He flew to 
 the door, and shouted, 
 
 " For God's sake, man, don't use that curb ! He'll 
 go all right if you give him his head." But the in 
 fantryman only glared, probably did not hear, he was 
 so busy trying to keep his seat ; and paying no atten 
 tion to Ray, went alternately jerking and kicking up 
 the row, while Dandy, startled, amazed, tortured, and 
 high-strung, backed and plunged and tugged at the bit. 
 A mother who sees her child abused by some ruffian of 
 a big boy knows what Ray suffered from that scene. 
 Only to such, and to the trooper who loves the horse 
 who has borne him through charge after charge, who 
 has been his comrade on campaign after campaign, 
 shared wounds and danger and hunger and thirst with 
 him, will Ray's next move be conceivable ; he threw 
 himself upon his bed, buried his face in his arms, and 
 broke down utterly. 
 
 He and Blake concocted between them later in the 
 day a letter to the colonel expressive of their views as 
 K - 26*
 
 306 MARK. fS FAITH. 
 
 to Dandy's rights ; but tht letter was so pointed a protest 
 against their seizing a regimental horse for quasi-quar- 
 termaster's purposes, and &o deep a sarcasm on infantry 
 horsemanship, that it came back with a stinging repri 
 mand. Even Warner felt it a slur. Then Blake tried 
 another : setting forth that as neither the commanding 
 officer nor the quartermaster had been in saddle since 
 the war of the Rebellion, if they had then, the latter 
 being a promotion from the ranks, they could not be 
 expected to know what they, as cavalrymen, were re 
 quired to know, that a horse of spirit was not to be 
 ridden like a cast-iron mule; but luckily for Mr. 
 Blake's chances for future usefulness the post surgeon 
 dropped in just then, and casting his eye over the 
 screed, coolly took and tore it up, sent Blake over to 
 the hospital for the steAvard, chatted pleasantly with 
 Ray while he dressed the wounded thigh, pointed sig 
 nificantly to the demijohn, saying, "There's where 
 much of this fever comes from. No more of it, Ray." 
 And then when Blake came back, took him out and 
 gave him a rasping ; told him that his hot-headedness 
 was only making matters worse for Ray, and that he 
 must take things quietly. He knew that Ray hadn't 
 been treated right about the horse, but old Whaling 
 couldn't be expected to have any more sentiment on 
 such matters than his stolid quartermaster, and by 
 fighting them he was simply doing harm. In fact, 
 said the doctor, Ray is now in a very feverish and ex 
 citable state, and if this continue I cannot say what 
 will result. So a more temperate letter was written, 
 and Ray bowed to the yoke, and meekly signed a civil 
 explanation to the quartermaster of the horse's char-
 
 RAFfi TROUBLES. 397 
 
 acter and the proper way of handling him ; but that 
 worthy had meantime represented to the colonel that 
 Mr. Eay had come to his door and sworn at him when 
 he mounted that morning, and he would have no ad 
 vice ; and so by direction of the commanding officer a 
 communication was sent to Mr. Ray to the effect that 
 as he was no longer responsible for the care of the 
 horse he would refrain from interference with or sug 
 gestions to the post quartermaster. This was the letter 
 that Blake had brought in with a flourish ; and that 
 morning all that day from eight A.M. until late in the 
 afternoon, without water, without his customary feed, 
 saddled and bridled, poor Dandy stood in the hot sun tied 
 to a post in front of the quartermaster's house, in full 
 view of Ray's front windows. The quartermaster was 
 too stiif and chafed after yesterday's experiences to at 
 tempt to mount to-day, but he could worry the horse 
 and madden Ray by keeping him tied there switching 
 the flies from his scarred flanks, and wistfully neighing 
 and pricking up his ears every time any one approached 
 along the walk. 
 
 Blake had gone to town early in the morning 
 after giving that letter to Ray. Hogan was in the 
 guard-house a prisoner. Ray was penned to the 
 limits of his house in arrest. He could only see 
 and hear the suffering of his pet and not relieve him. 
 Late in the day he called to a soldier going by and 
 offered him a dollar to go to the horse and tie him to a 
 post ten yards nearer where there was a little shade. 
 The soldier untied and was leading him away while 
 Dandy tripped gratefully after, when the quartermas 
 ter's Hibernian accents were heard thundering an order
 
 308 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 to " come back wid dthat harrse." The soldier saluted 
 and said Mr. Ray had asked him just to move him into 
 the shade, and the officer damned the man for not 
 knowing better. Then Ray came to the door and 
 asked the soldier to take Dandy a bucket of water, and 
 as the man carried it and the horse pawed and whin 
 nied at the welcome sight, the quartermaster appeared 
 on his piazza, and shouted in wrath to the soldier no* 
 to interfere again or he'd " have him in the lock-up." 
 And poor Dandy, like an equine Tantalus, was robbed 
 of the needed fluid. Ray could bear no more. He 
 kept one foot inside the door- way as his arrest demanded, 
 but leaning far out, with blazing eyes and clinching 
 fist he hurled his challenge at the quartermaster in a 
 voice that rang along the row like the "to arms" of 
 the trumpets. 
 
 " You cowardly brute ! I'll horsewhip you before 
 the whole garrison the moment I'm free !" The sur 
 geon heard it and came hurrying to him. Mrs. Tur 
 ner heard it and feared poor Mr. Ray must have been 
 taking too much. The colonel heard it far up the row 
 and incorporated it in the additional charge and specifi 
 cations he was drawing up against Mr. Ray ; but the 
 ladies " up the row" were busy dressing to come down 
 according to promise and see him, and they did not 
 hear. Ah, no ! Nine out of ten of those who read 
 this may say it was all improbable, impossible, or, if 
 true, that there was nothing but drink to explain poor 
 Ray's frantic outburst ; but ask any cavalryman who 
 deserves the name, and we will rest the defence with 
 him. 
 
 The ladies came as Mrs. Stannard had promised, and
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 309 
 
 with anxious face the doctor met them at the gate. Mr. 
 Ray was in no condition to see any one. 
 
 That night Mrs. Stannard returned with the doctor 
 to his bedside. Eay was delirious, in a raging fever. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 WHILE, as has been said, no further news of affairs 
 at Russell reached the regiment before they plunged 
 into the thick of the campaign and were soon cut off" 
 from all communication, there were still three or four 
 days in which the officers could talk over matters and 
 write their letters to be sent back from the intrenched 
 camp at Goose Creek by the first party that was numeri 
 cally strong enough to undertake the journey. The 
 colonel had been furnished a brief synopsis of the 
 charges against Ray, and Stannard swore with a mighty 
 oath when he read them that from beginning to end the 
 whole thing was made up by Gleason and that other 
 scoundrel, Rallston. The officers came together, and 
 Stannard told what he knew of Rallstou's shadowy 
 record in the past, and one by one Gleason's hints, 
 sneers, and slurs about Ray were dragged to light and 
 exploded. There were men sitting around the colonel's 
 tent, a hardy, bushwhacking set of frontiersmen they 
 all looked, who for very shame wished themselves
 
 310 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 away. Canker's cheeks burned as he recalled how 
 often he had permitted Gleason to defame Kay. Crane 
 and Wilkins hung their heads and tugged at their 
 stubby beards, and looked uncomfortable, for the whole 
 tenor of talk was an enthusiastic and vehement vote 
 of confidence in the Kentuckian. Knowing him to be 
 hot-headed and rash, there was great anxiety about 
 him, and one impulsive fellow suggested that they all 
 sign a letter to him expressing their belief in his inno 
 cence and their confidence in his cause. This would 
 not do, said the colonel ; it was tantamount to insubor 
 dination. Individually they were at liberty to write, 
 but it must not be done as a regiment ; and so it resulted 
 that only two or three wrote to him, and one of these 
 was Canker. 
 
 Stannard was not fully satisfied. It was agreed that 
 at the very first opportunity they should have another 
 general talk, and the officers had then gone to their 
 various tents to send what might be the last messages 
 home. They were to march over against the Rosebud 
 at dawn, and it was only a few miles' gallop across the 
 divide where Custer and his gallant men lay at their 
 shallow graves, most of them by this time disinterred 
 by prowling wolves or vengeful Indians. 
 
 Truscott, too, had written to Ray, and it was not 
 easy. He had written to Grace a long letter, and that 
 was harder still. Three days had elapsed since Glea- 
 son's explosive announcement of that strange tableau 
 at his home. He had disdained to listen to explanation 
 or to further statement. He would not condescend to 
 ask Webb a single question ; but he had called him 
 aside that morning and said a quiet word.
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIQ 3} i 
 
 " Should you ever need a solution of what may have 
 seemed a mystery to. you, Webb, in what you mention 
 having seen, Mrs. Truscott and my friend Ray, I 
 mean, you have simply to remember that the news of 
 that massacre over yonder has unnerved every woman 
 in the army, and that Mrs. Truscott is not now in a 
 condition to bear any shock. I had asked Ray to go 
 regularly to my house." 
 
 He was incapable of doubting her. He would not 
 doubt Ray, and yet and yet there was something about 
 the matter he did not like. She had written to him 
 three pages that afternoon after it all occurred, and 
 had mentioned nothing of Ray's being there, nothing 
 of her having been agitated during his visit, nothing at 
 all of it ; and yet such a scene had occurred. He could 
 account for there being a scene, but he could not recon 
 cile himself to her utter silence upon the subject. 
 
 In his letter to Ray he, of course, said nothing of it. 
 In his letter to his wife he gently, lovingly, pointed out 
 to her that it was not right that he should be told by 
 strangers of her being seen sobbing upon the sofa when 
 alone with Mr. Ray, and that she should make no allu 
 sion to a matter that had struck them as so extraordi 
 nary. Could he have taken her in his strong arms and 
 used just those words in speaking of it with all the 
 grace of love and trust and tenderness accenting every 
 syllable, she would never have mistaken the mood in 
 which he wrote ; but who that loves has not marked 
 the wide difference between such words written and 
 spoken ? When the letter came it cut Grace to the heart, 
 and it was the last letter to reach her in one whole 
 month. The next had to come way around by the
 
 312 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Yellowstone. Was it likely that in that intervening 
 month she should care to see much of Ray ? 
 
 All over the Northwest that column went marching 
 and chasing after the now scattered bands of Crazy 
 Horse and Sitting Bull : always on the trail, always 
 pushing ahead. From the Tongue to the Rosebud ; 
 then over to the Powder ; then up to the Yellowstone ; 
 then, while Miles went across after the fleeing Unca- 
 papas and their wily old rascal of a leader, the Gray 
 Fox gave his ragged followers a few days in which to 
 bait their horses and patch their boots and breeches ; 
 then on he led them after the Ogallallas and Brules, 
 far across the Little Missouri, over to Heart River, 
 where rations gave out ; then down due south by com 
 pass through flooding rain, heading for the Black Hills, 
 two weeks' march away. It was summer sunshine when 
 they cut loose from tents and baggage at Goose Creek, 
 with ten days' rations and the clothes they had on. It 
 was freezing by night before they saw those tents and 
 wagons again down in the southern hills, where they 
 came dragging in late in September, having lived for 
 days on the flesh of their slaughtered horses, and in 
 all these weeks of marching and suffering and fight 
 ing no line had reached Stannard or Truscott or any 
 body from the wives at home. There were sore and 
 anxious hearts among them, but those at home were 
 sojcr still. 
 
 It was the second week in August when those last 
 letters came from the th to Russell. It was the second 
 week in September before they heard from them at the 
 bivouac on the Yellowstone. It was the second week in 
 October before the next news came, the hurried letters
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 313 
 
 brought down from the Black Hills, and telling of their 
 homeward coming. It was the last week in October as 
 they rode bronzed and bearded and gaunt and thin, 
 herding in the disarmed bands of Red Cloud that the 
 orders were received returning them to winter quarters 
 far down along the Union Pacific, nearly ten days' 
 march to the south ; and meantime meantime how very 
 much had happened at Russell. 
 
 It was the twelfth day of Mr. Ray's arrest and the 
 sixth of his sharp illness that Mr. Gleason arrived at 
 the post and went to report to the commanding officer. 
 Mrs. Truscott and Miss Sanford, seated on their piazza, 
 saw him alight at his quarters from the stage, and im 
 mediately went in and closed their door. Mrs. Stannard 
 had been with them awhile the evening previous. Ray 
 was entirely out of danger and was sitting up again, 
 but very quiet and weak. Gleason, it seems, had taken 
 a roundabout way on his return, and had stopped two 
 days at Fort Laramie, from which post he did consid 
 erable telegraphing. The mail coming direct from 
 Fetterman brought those letters (which wsrs sent by 
 the sergeant) three days ahead of him, and not a lady 
 in the cavalry quarters at Russell, except perhaps Mrs. 
 "VVilkins, would now receive him. Mrs. Stannard met 
 him on the walk soon after his arrival, and passed him 
 with a mere inclination of the head and the coldest 
 possible mention of his name, but she saw he was thin 
 and haggard and very anxious-looking. He was clos 
 eted with the post commander a long time, and came 
 out looking worse. Old Whaling was swearing mad 
 over a letter from Stannard and one from the com 
 manding officer of the th, plainly telling him that if 
 o 27
 
 314 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 he had been induced to take steps against Mr. Ray by 
 any representations of Mr. Gleason, he would find him 
 self heavily involved ; and now Gleason plainly wanted 
 to " crawfish," and to declare that Whaling had used 
 as facts what he had only suggested as possibilities. 
 Whaling was also notified that they proposed to ask the 
 department commander to have proceedings against 
 Ray suspended until the return of the regiment from 
 the campaign, and meantime here was the young gen 
 tleman sick on his hands at the post, and that blunder 
 ing, bullet-headed quartermaster of his had got him 
 involved in another row. Mr. Blake had made an 
 application to department headquarters for a board of 
 officers to appraise the value of one public horse, which 
 he, Lieutenant Blake, desired to purchase ; had written 
 to a staff friend at Omaha a graphic description of 
 Dandy's and Ray's " devotion to each other," and the 
 decree of divorce which was passed by Colonel Whaling's 
 order. The quartermaster had meantime had Dandy 
 out in the sun for two more days, tied to the post, and 
 had been notified by Mr. Blake that if he ever spoke 
 to him, except in the line of duty, he would kick him, 
 and things were in almost as eruptive a state at Russell 
 in this blessed month of August of the centennial year 
 as they had been at old Sandy during the Pelham 
 rfyime, only only who could this time say it was a 
 woman at the bottom of it ? 
 
 And yet was it not Gleason's unrequited attentions 
 to our heroine that prompted much of the trouble? 
 Fie on it for a foul suggestion ! Is woman to be held 
 responsible for a row because more than one man falls 
 in love with her ?
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 315 
 
 And yet again. She who has been so studiously kept 
 in the background all these dreary chapters has been 
 coming to the fore on her own account. In plain cav 
 alry language, Miss Sanford has twice taken the bit in 
 her teeth and bolted. Gleason once discovered, anent 
 the club-room, that she had a temper. Mrs. Turner 
 was the next to arrive at this conclusion. Tt was the 
 day after Mr. Ray's illness began. Mrs. Whaling was 
 paying an evening visit. Mrs. Turner had dropped in, 
 as she often did where the ladies were apt to gather, 
 and, despite Mrs. Truscott's polite and modest expres 
 sion of her disagreement with Mrs. Whaling's views, 
 that amiable lady persisted in descanting upon Mr. 
 Ray's intemperate language and conduct, and repeatedly 
 intimating that it was all due to intemperate drink. 
 " The general" had said so, and that settled it. Miss 
 Sanford sat with blazing eyes and cheeks that flushed 
 redder and redder ; she was biting her lip and tapping 
 the carpet with the toe of her slipper. Mrs. Whaling 
 was called away by some household demand before she 
 had fairly finished her homily, and then Mrs. Turner, 
 who had narrowly watched these symptoms, determined 
 to test the depth of Miss Sanford's views upon the sub 
 ject, the revelation might be of interest. 
 
 "It does seem a pity that Mr. Ray should have 
 done so much to ruin his fine record, does it not, Miss 
 Sanford?" 
 
 " Ruin it ! Mrs. Turner ? Pardon me ! but you 
 speak of it as though you believed in his guilt, as 
 though you thought him culpable. If I were a lady 
 of the th, I should glory in the name he had made 
 for it, and be defending, not abusing him." And,
 
 316 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 with the mien of a queen of tragedy, she swished 
 out of the room to cool her fevered cheeks upon the 
 piazza. 
 
 " Well !" gasped Mrs. Turner. " If I had supposed 
 she cared for him I wouldn't have suggested such a 
 thing an instant." 
 
 " It is not a question of her ( caring' for him as you 
 say, Mrs. Turner," spoke up Mrs. Truscott, with unu 
 sual spirit. " He is my husband's warmest friend. 
 We're all proud of him, all indignant at his treatment, 
 and your language is simply incomprehensible !" 
 
 Just didn't Mrs. Turner tell that interview with 
 variations all over the garrison within twenty-four 
 hours ? She had incentive enough ; the ladies flocked 
 to hear it, and one absurd maiden saw fit the next even 
 ing to simper her congratulations to Miss Sanford on 
 " her engagement" ; but by that time Marion had recov 
 ered her self-control. She met Mrs. Turner as though 
 nothing of an unusual nature had occurred. She 
 laughingly, even sweetly thanked the damsel, and told 
 her she was engaged to no one. 
 
 But in another way she had come out like a heroine. 
 She loved horses, as has been said. She had wept in 
 secret over Mrs. Stannard's description of Dandy's 
 seizure, and she was vehement with indignation at the 
 subsequent treatment of Mr. Ray's pet and comrade. 
 No one ever saw Marion Sanford so excited about any 
 thing before, said Grace ; she could not refrain from 
 going to the door every little while to see if Dandy 
 were still tied there in front of the quartermaster's, and 
 she would have gone to that functionary himself and 
 implored hiin to send the horse back to the stable, only
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 317 
 
 she could not trust herself to speak. But the second 
 day she could stand it no longer ; she boldly assailed 
 Colonel Whaling, pointed out to him that for two days 
 poor Dandy had been kept there in the hot sun, tor 
 tured by flies, and begged him to exert his authority 
 and stop it. It made the quartermaster rabid. He 
 knew somebody must have been interfering, but that 
 night the colonel told him he must take better care of 
 the sorrel, who was looking badly already, and ordered 
 him to be returned to the corral for a day or two. But 
 this very night, as Dandy was being led away, she 
 heard Blake say to Mrs. Truscott, 
 
 "I'd give anything to buy him and give him to 
 Kay." 
 
 " Could you buy him ?" she exclaimed, all flushing 
 eagerness. 
 
 "Why, yes, if I had an unmortgaged cent, Miss 
 Sanford," he said, with a nervous laugh. 
 
 She rose, her eyes and cheeks aflame, and stood be 
 fore them, almost trembling, while her hands worked 
 nervously, 
 
 " Then do it ! Mr. Blake. Don't let him suffer an 
 other minute ! buy him for me, no matter what he 
 costs, and then you give him to Mr. Ray. I I 
 mean every word of it. You can have the money this 
 instant, the check at least." 
 
 Grace sprang up and threw her arms around her 
 neck. " You darling ! How I wish I could do it !" 
 was all she could say, but Miss Sanford was simply 
 paying no attention to her. She was waiting to hear 
 from Mr. Blake, who was too much astounded to speak. 
 That evening it was all settled that Blake should make 
 
 27*
 
 318 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 immediate application to purchase, and he went home 
 spouting Shakespeare by the page, perfectly enraptured 
 with this new and unsuspected trait in Marion, and 
 perfectly satisfied that it was not for him. 
 
 The paper went in, and, preceded by Blake's per 
 sonal letter to the staff-officer, was forwarded to Omaha 
 with an unfavorable endorsement. The post quarter 
 master had said that except the band horses there were 
 none there that were not needed by the quartermaster's 
 service, and daily in use. All the same the order was 
 promptly issued, and came back in four days with tho 
 detail of Colonel Whaling, the post surgeon, and Mr. 
 Warner. Gleason was not named, a singular thing., 
 since he was the only cavalry officer, except Blake, now 
 for duty at the post, and they had begun officer of the 
 day work. But the very day the board met Ray was 
 out on his piazza taking the air with " extended limits," 
 and rejoicing in the letters that had just come to him 
 from the fellows at the front (the same mail had 
 brought Mrs. Truscott that letter from Jack which sent 
 her to her room in misery), and towards evening Mrs. 
 Stannard came down to see him awhile, and hear his 
 letters and tell him of her own. Mr. Gleason passed 
 out of his quarters girt with sabre, he was officer of 
 the day, and walked over towards the guard-house 
 across the parade. Blake had gone " up the row." 
 He wanted to give them a chance for a quiet talk, for 
 Kay's heart was full of gratitude to the major's noble 
 wife. She had nursed him like a mother in his delir 
 ium and illness ; she had nursed him as she had other 
 fellows when they were down, and they none of them 
 forgot it. As Blake passed Number 11 and glanced
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 319 
 
 back towards the rear windows, he saw a sight that, 
 
 * O 7 
 
 to use the words he often affected, " gave him pause." 
 
 Standing cap in hand at the back of the house was 
 the soldier Hogan, a flush of mingled delight and sur 
 prise on his face, and his mouth expanded in a grin of 
 embarrassed ecstasy. In front of him was Miss San- 
 ford, daintily dressed as usual, holding out her hand. 
 She caught sight of Blake, pressed something into 
 Hogan's hand and sprang quickly back. 
 
 Can she be sending Ray a note ? was his first thought. 
 He concluded not to go in just then, but went on his 
 way. That night Hogan was unusually conversational 
 around the house. He was plainly exhilarated. He 
 came to the room where the two officers were seated 
 and stumbled over Mr. Blake's boots. 
 
 " What on earth do you want, Hogan ?" asked Eay, 
 looking up from his paper and pipe. 
 
 " I was wanting to clane the lootenant's pistol, sir, 
 an' it isn't in the holster." 
 
 " You needn't clean it to-night," said Ray, coloring. 
 " I want it." 
 
 "What the dickens do you want it for to-night?" 
 said Blake. " Let him have it ; it hasn't been cleaned 
 for a month." 
 
 " Never mind, Hogan, not to-night." 
 
 " Could I be gone for a couple of hours, sir, if there's 
 nothing else the lootenant wants ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, go ahead; I shall not need you until 
 morning." 
 
 " Would the lootenant take care of this for me ?" 
 said Hogan, holding out two twenty-dollar bills. " I 
 might lose it if I tuk too much,"
 
 320 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Don't take too much, then, you sinner. Where did 
 you get this money, sir ?" 
 
 "Shure the lootenant mustn't blow on me," said 
 Hogan, with rapture in his eyes and a glibness born of 
 poteen on his tongue, " but that court-martial was the 
 makin' of me fortune, sir. Shure not only did the 
 lootenant an' Misther Blake give me a fine charactther 
 and ten dollars to boot, but the moment do I get out 
 of the gyard-house Mrs. Thruscott sends Flanigan for 
 me, an' when I get there shure it's the young leddy as 
 wants to see me. ' You're a good soldier, Mr. Hogan,' 
 says she, ' and you're true to Dandy, you are/ ' Faix 
 I am, ma'am/ says I, ( an' long life to him and the 
 man that rides him,' says I. ' Shure it's he's the sol 
 dier, ma'am, and the boss rider of the regiment too.' 
 ' I know it, Mr. Hogan,' says' she, all a-blushin' like, 
 ' an' I'm proud of ye for bein' so thrue to him in his 
 throuble,' says she. ' Faix, an' the men would mur- 
 ther me, miss, if I wasn't,' says I ; and so they would, 
 begorra ! and thin says she, ' Now how much did they 
 punish you on that court ?' says she. ' Tin dollars 
 blind an' sivin days on the in the gyard-house, 
 ma'am,' says I ; an' says she, ' Here's twinty for the 
 tin they robbed ye of, and five for every day they kep' 
 ye from yer masther an' Dandy.' An', begorra, looten 
 ant, she ran in the house before iver I could shpake 
 another wurrud." 
 
 " Go it, Mickey Free !" shouted Blake, roaring with 
 laughter. Ray had grown redder and redder as the 
 Irishman told his tale, and at last, laughing to cover 
 his confusion, bade him begone. 
 
 That night was still and beautiful. Too excited by
 
 A SHOT AT MIDNIGHT. 321 
 
 the events of the day to think of sleep, Marion San- 
 ford was awake long after midnight. There was no 
 moon, but the skies were cloudless, and a summer breeze 
 played with the curtains of her open window. Far 
 down by the stables she heard the call of the sentry at 
 half-past twelve o'clock. A few minutes later there 
 was a sharp, sudden report, as of a pistol, somewhere 
 down the row ; then as she sprang to the window she 
 heard a stifled cry ; then all was silence again unless 
 was it fancy ? She felt, rather than heard, a running 
 footfall. Excited, startled, she hastily threw on a 
 wrapper and shawl and ran in to Grace, who was sleep 
 ing quietly as before. Looking out on the parade, she 
 could hear men running rapidly over from the guard 
 house. Something terrible had happened she now felt 
 sure. Then a man was heard speeding up the walk to 
 wards the commanding officer's. She could see him as 
 he darted by, and listened intently. He banged at 
 the colonel's door, and then presently more men came 
 hurrying by. Still she did not like to call ; she feared 
 to awaken or shock Grace. But in another minute, as 
 a member of the guard ran by, Mrs. Stannard's clear 
 voice floated out on the night air, 
 
 " What is the matter, corporal ?" 
 
 " Lieutenant Gleason's murdered, ma'am ; shot dead 
 in his room." 
 
 " Good heavens ! Who could have done it ?" 
 
 " I don't leastwise, ma'am, they they say 'twas 
 Lieutenant Ray."
 
 322 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 IN CLOSER TOILS. 
 
 A CORONER'S inquest was in session at Russell, and 
 in the benighted regions of the Eastern States where the 
 functions of that worthy public officer are mainly ex 
 ercised in connection with the " demnition moist" re 
 mains of the " found drowned," or the attenuated skele 
 tons of the starved, there can be but faint conception 
 of the divinity which doth hedge a coroner in a fron 
 tier city where people, as a rule, die with their boots on. 
 Perhaps it was a proper consideration of the relative 
 importance of the two offices which had induced Mr. 
 Perkins to decline with thanks the nomination of ter 
 ritorial delegate to Congress, and to intimate through 
 the columns of The Blizzard that he sought no higher 
 office at the hands of the people than that in which, to 
 the best of his humble ability, he had already served 
 two terms. As the emoluments of the coronership were 
 dependent entirely upon the number of inquests held 
 during the year, the position in an Ohio town of five 
 thousand inhabitants would hardly have taken prece 
 dence over a seat in the House of Representatives, but 
 a lively frontier city, the supply centre of all the stock, 
 mining, and trading enterprises to the north of the 
 railway, a town that had been the division terminus 
 since the road was built, and was the recognized me 
 tropolis of the plains, well, " that was different, some-
 
 7^ CLOSER TOILS. 323 
 
 how," said Mr. Perkins's friends ; and, as his gleanings 
 had been double those he would have received in Con 
 gress, that is, in the way of salary, Mr. Perkins had 
 wisely decided that so long as " business was brisk" he 
 preferred the exaltation of holding the most lucrative 
 position in the gift of his fellow-citizens. His decis 
 ion had been a disappointment to other aspirants, for 
 not only pecuniarily was the office of first importance, 
 but, in the very nature of his functions, the coroner 
 acquired in the eyes of all men a mysterious interest 
 and influence beside which the governor of the Terri 
 tory, the mayor, and even the chief of the fire depart 
 ment felt themselves dwarfed into insignificance. For 
 four years Mr. Perkins had been a busy man. He dis 
 pensed far more patronage than the delegate to Con 
 gress, as he was constantly besieged by a class of im 
 pecunious patriots to " put 'em on the next one." A. 
 stranger arriving by train and seeing a man shot down 
 in front of some one of the gambling-saloons, would 
 have been perplexed to account for the rush of the crowd 
 in one direction, instead of scattering till the shooting 
 was over and then concentrating to stare at the vic 
 tim. It was a race for the coroner, and a place on the 
 jury was the customary reward of the winner. Too 
 much precipitancy in some such cases, resulting in the 
 discovery by Mr. Perkins on arriving at the scene that 
 the corpse was humorously waiting for him to " set up 
 the drinks," had resulted in the establishment by him 
 of a system of fines in the event of similar false alarms ; 
 but, as has been said, the coroner had reigned for sev 
 eral years as the wealthiest, the most envied and ad 
 mired of the public officials. He had invested in mines
 
 324 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and real estate, had become a money-lender and capi 
 talist, and for some time considered himself on the 
 high road to fortune, when the discovery of gold in the 
 Black Hills caused a sudden hegira thither of nine- 
 tenths of the shooting element, and the summer of '76 
 found Mr. Perkins a changed and embittered man. 
 
 " Cheyenne ain't what it used to be," he would re 
 gretfully say, as entire weeks would elapse without a 
 fatal termination of a row; "fellers who used to shoot 
 on sight only sit around and jaw now. It's gettin' 
 slow as any d d one-horse town east of the Missis 
 sippi." And in the general gloom of the situation Mr. 
 Perkins had more than once regretted that he had not 
 gone to Congress. 
 
 It was with a thrill of renewed hope, therefore, that 
 he heard the loud knocking at his door before dawn, 
 and descending, received with ill-concealed gratification 
 the message of the commanding officer at Fort Russell 
 that his services were needed there at once. An officer 
 had been shot to death in his bedroom. It was one 
 thing to air his importance before an admiring audience 
 of townspeople; but this this was something border 
 ing on bliss. For the time being he could sit in judg 
 ment on the words and deeds of those military satraps 
 at the fort. Perkins had bundled a jury of his chums 
 into carriages and started out across the prairie before 
 the smoke from the morning gun had fairly died away. 
 By the time the men had finished breakfast the jury 
 and the reporters were at their work, and an awe-stricken 
 group stood silently at the gate of the little brown cot 
 tage wherein death had set his seal during the watches 
 of the night.
 
 IN CLOSER TOILS. 325 
 
 It was in the back room of the first floor that the 
 jury had assembled. There on the narrow bed lay the 
 mortal remains of the officer whose death-cry had 
 startled the garrison so short a time before. Men and 
 women had spoken with bated breath, with dread and 
 horror on their faces, with heavy load at heart, many 
 had not slept at all, since the news flew round the 
 garrison at one o'clock. It was shocking to think of 
 Mr. Gleason as murdered, but that he should have beeir 
 murdered in cold blood, without a word of altercation, 
 and murdered by an officer of his own regiment, one 
 so brave, so gifted, so popular as Ray, was simply hor 
 rible; and yet who that heard the evidence being 
 given, slowly, reluctantly, painfully before that jury 
 could arrive at any other conclusion. Even before the 
 jury came sentries with fixed bayonet were stationed at 
 Ray's bedroom door, and no one was allowed to go in 
 or out except by order of the commanding officer. 
 
 The colonel had not gone to bed since being aroused. 
 The moment the post surgeon had announced that 
 Gleason was stone dead the body was lifted to the bed ; 
 Lieutenant Warner was placed in charge of the room, 
 with orders to see that nothing was touched or removed, 
 and the colonel began an immediate investigation. The 
 sergeant of the guard, who, with one or two men, had 
 been out searching the rear yards, had handed the col 
 onel on his arrival a silver-mounted pistol, Smith & 
 Wesson's, of handsome make and finish, with every 
 chamber loaded but one. He had picked it up just by 
 the back gate. On the guard were engraved in mon 
 ogram the letters W. P. R., and as the colonel held it 
 
 O * 
 
 up, Private Hogan, who had been assisting in raising 
 
 '28
 
 326 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 the body to the bed, gave one quick look at it, ex 
 claimed, " Oh, Holy Mother !" and hurried from the 
 room. He was sternly called back, and came, white 
 and trembling. 
 
 " Do you know that pistol, sir ? Whose is it ?" 
 
 Hogan wrung his hands and looked miserably around. 
 
 " Answer at once !" 
 
 " It's it's the lootenant's, sir !" 
 
 "What lieutenant?" 
 
 " Misther Ray, sir. Oh, God forgive me !" sobbed 
 poor Hogan, and, covering his face with his hands, he 
 burst into tears. 
 
 "Where is Mr. Ray?" demanded the colonel, in a 
 voice that trembled despite his strong effort at self- 
 control. 
 
 " He was here, sir, when I came," said the sergeant 
 of the guard. " He was kneeling over the body, and 
 told me to hurry out on the prairie, the murderer had 
 run that way." 
 
 " Mr. Ray is in his quarters, colonel. I took him 
 there just before you came," said Blake, entering at 
 the moment, and Blake's face was white as death. 
 
 " Who was here besides Mr. Ray ?" asked the col 
 onel of the sergeant. 
 
 " Not a soul, sir. The body lay there on its face 
 where the blood is on the floor, and Mr. Ray wa^ 
 kneeling beside it trying to turn it over, I thought. I 
 was standing in front of the company quarters just 
 over here, sir, when the shot was fired, and I heard the 
 yell. I ran hard as I could straight here, and it wasn't 
 half a minute." 
 
 " And you saw no one else at all ?"
 
 IN CLOSER TOILS. 327 
 
 " No one, sir. The lieutenant said the man as did it 
 rushed out on the prairie between the hospital and the 
 surgeon's, and it was dark, sir, and no use looking. 
 Coming back, I picked up the pistol right by the gate." 
 
 ''Stay here all of you," said the colonel. "Mr. 
 Blake, I want you" 
 
 And in another moment Blake went silently up the 
 row. The colonel's orders were that he should guard 
 his comrade until relieved by the officer of the day 
 with his sentries. 
 
 But the coroner's jury had investigated still further. 
 The web of circumstantial evidence that had enveloped 
 Ray by eight o'clock that August morning was simply 
 appalling. It summed up about as follows. The ser 
 geant of the guard had been making the rounds of the 
 ordnance and commissary storehouses, and heard voices 
 out on the prairie as of men coming from town ; listen 
 ing, he recognized those of Hogan and Shea, the latter 
 being Lieutenant Gleason's orderly. They were ap 
 parently coming from the direction of the " house on 
 the hill," as the resort out by the little prairie lake, 
 previously described, was termed, and as they were not 
 boisterous at all, though evidently " merry," he had not 
 gone towards them, but, entering the main gate, he 
 turned to the left to go to the guard-house, and was 
 opposite the second set of company quarters when he 
 heard voices at Lieutenant Gleason's, excited but un 
 intelligible, then the shot, a scream, and he ran full 
 tilt, not more than two hundred yards, into the house 
 and through the little hall to the back room, where a 
 light was burning. There lay Lieutenant Gleason.on 
 his face with his head to the back door, which was open,
 
 328 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 while Lieutenant Ray was kneeling between the body 
 and the back door. All he said was, " Quick ! the man 
 who did it ran out on the prairie past the doctor's," and 
 the sergeant had pursued, but returned in a moment or 
 two, having seen nobody but Hogan and Shea, who 
 came running back with him. Shea went for the doc 
 tor and Hogan to call Lieutenant Blake. The corporal 
 of the guard then arrived with two men. They sent 
 one for the colonel. Lieutenant Ray again told them 
 to hunt the murderer, but they found nothing but the 
 pistol. When they returned the second time the col 
 onel and surgeon were there, but Mr. Ray was gone. 
 
 Shea's testimony was sensational : Hogan had come to 
 him about tattoo, and proposed that they should go out 
 and have a quiet time at the house on the hill ; he had 
 plenty of money and had already been drinking a little. 
 Shea went, but fearing Hogan would take too much and 
 get into more trouble, had persuaded him to start for 
 home about 11.30. They came across the prairie and 
 were talking pretty loud, heard no pistol-shot, or cry, 
 saw or heard no one except the sergeant, though they 
 had come through the gap between the hospital and 
 surgeon's quarters. Shea said that he had been Mr. 
 Gleason's " striker" (soldier-servant) for two years ; 
 knew his character and habits well, and knew there 
 was trouble between him and Mr. Ray. Questioned 
 as to particulars, Shea went on to say that there had 
 been a " terrible row" between them the day Mr. Glea- 
 son started for Fetterman ; he didn't know what it was 
 about, but had overheard some of the language from 
 the back kitchen, and the last thing Lieutenant Ray 
 had said was, " ' If ever you breathe a word of this to a
 
 IN CLOSER TOILS. 329 
 
 soul/ or something like that, 'I'll shoot you like a 
 dog.' " He was sure of the last words, and he thought 
 then he wouldn't like to be in Mr. Gleason's place. 
 Shea's words produced a marked effect ; but no more 
 so than did Hogan's, whom grief and liquor had made 
 somewhat maudlin. Like every Irishman in the regi 
 ment he thought the world of Kay, and it cut him to* 
 the heart to have to testify against him ; but he recog 
 nized the pistol at once as the lieutenant's, and the fact 
 was dragged out of him that before tattoo the previous 
 evening he had gone to get it and clean it, and found it 
 was not in the holster. He asked the lieutenant for it 
 and was refused. " I want it" was what the lieutenant 
 had said. 
 
 Mr. Blake, very calm and very white, was brought 
 in next, and faced the impressive coroner and his jury. 
 He corroborated Hogan's statement as to Ray's lan 
 guage about the pistol ; said that lie had gone to bed 
 up-stairs at eleven o'clock, leaving Ray reading in the 
 room below, and knew nothing more of the affair until 
 called by Hogan, when he had run to Mr. Gleason's 
 quarters, and after a moment had taken Ray home and 
 insisted on his going to bed. The lieutenant was just 
 recovering from a severe illness, was weak and un 
 strung, and the affair threatened to bring on a relapse. 
 There had been an open breach between the two officers 
 for over two years, and of late, he knew not how, it 
 had widened. The deceased frequently maligned Lieu 
 tenant Ray, and the latter never spoke of him without 
 aversion. Questioned as to his knowledge of anything 
 that occurred between them on the day of Gleason's 
 departure, he said he knew nothing. Ray had refused 
 
 28*
 
 330 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 to talk on the subject. The surgeon had given the 
 necessary medical testimony as to cause, a gunshot 
 wound penetrating the heart and causing almost instant 
 death. The post commander told of the charges against 
 Lieutenant Ray, and of the fact that the deceased was 
 a principal witness indeed, an accuser, and that seemed 
 all that was necessary. The jury desired to hear what 
 Mr. Ray had to say, and they questioned the doctor as 
 to his ability to see them. The surgeon had replied 
 with professional gravity that so far as he was concerned 
 he thought his patient should not be disturbed, but that 
 the gentleman himself had insisted that no obstacle 
 should be thrown in their way if they felt disposed to 
 examine him. Mr. Ray was cool as a cucumber, though 
 fully aware by this time of the fearful array of evi 
 dence against him. Blake flew back to his bedside as 
 soon as he heard that the coroner had decided to ques 
 tion him, and with tears in his eyes implored him to 
 say nothing ; but Ray had smiled faintly, and held out 
 a warning hand, 
 
 "I've never hidden a word or deed of my life, 
 Blake, and what has to be hidden now is for another's 
 sake not mine. Time enough for lawyers when the 
 case comes to trial. A coroner's jury can only express 
 an opinion. I could not rest easy now without the 
 vindication of a full trial." 
 
 And so the coroner and his jury filed solemnly in. 
 Ray's voice was placid and his eyes steadfast and true. 
 He was courtesy itself to the members of the jury, and 
 all patience even under the insinuations of the coroner 
 that made Blake furious. His story was briefly that 
 ne had strolled out to his rear gate to walk up and
 
 /AT CLOSER TOILS. 331 
 
 down in the yard a few minutes before retiring. (He 
 did not say " To gaze at a certain window up the row.") 
 Being in arrest he was permitted to go no farther, and 
 just after the sentry's call of half-past twelve he was 
 startled by hearing excited voices apparently in the rear 
 room of the quarters two doors away, then a shot and 
 a scream ; he had hurried thither, and at the back gate 
 of Gleason's quarters a man rushed past him on tiptoe 
 and at full speed. Ray had caught his arm an instant 
 but was thrown roughly aside, and the fugitive had 
 fled like a deer through the open space between the 
 hospital and surgeon's quarters. He himself was weak 
 from recent illness and unable to pursue, but hurried 
 into the back door of Gleason's quarters, which was 
 open, through the kitchen, and there, lying on his face 
 in the back room, was the deceased, dressed in shirt and 
 trousers, apparently even then dead. The sergeant 
 came almost immediately, and soon Mr. Blake, who 
 presently reminded him that he was in arrest and had 
 no right to be in any quarters but his own, and took 
 him home. 
 
 Questioned as to enmity with the deceased, he said 
 he had long disliked him, and that of late the feeling 
 had become intensified. Questioned as to the affair of 
 the day on which the deceased had left the post, he ad 
 mitted there had been a violent scene, and that he had 
 threatened him. He also admitted that the pistol was 
 his, but that it had not been in his possession since the 
 day the deceased left the post. Questioned as to the cause 
 of his quarrel and some further matters, he spoke very 
 quietly, as follows : 
 
 " ThesS are matters, gentlemen, that cannot influence
 
 332 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 your decision. No statement of mine can well coun 
 teract the chain of circumstances in this case. I can 
 not tell you where my pistol was, and I must decline 
 to say one word at present of the cause of my late 
 quarrel with the deceased." In this he was firm, and 
 what other verdict could they arrive at ? The deceased 
 came to his death by a gunshot wound inflicted with 
 murderous intent, and, to the best of their belief, by 
 the hand of William P. Ray, a lieutenant in the th 
 Regiment of Cavalry, U. S. Army. 
 
 "When they were gone to their deliberation and Ray 
 was alone with his friend, he called for a scrap of note- 
 paper, thought earnestly a few moments, and then 
 rapidly wrote in pencil a few lines. 
 
 " Blake," he said, " take this to Mrs. Truscott and 
 give it to her personally. There will probably be no 
 answer. If you cannot see her, ask for Miss San- 
 ford." 
 
 They were all in the parlor, Mrs. Stannard, Mrs. 
 Truscott, and Miss Sanford, when he readied the house. 
 Three sadder faces he had never seen. The first ques 
 tion was as to the verdict of the coroner's jury. Blake 
 shook his head. " It can only be one thing." Indeed, 
 was not that what Mrs. Whaling had been there to tell 
 them already, with a simply maddening array of em 
 bellishments ? 
 
 Mrs. Stannard's blue eyes were red with weeping, 
 and Mrs. Truscott looked as though she had wept for 
 hours. Indeed, she had been, long before the shot was 
 fired. Marion Sanford alone was quiet and composed ; 
 her eyes were clear as ever, though deep dark rings had 
 formed beneath them, and her soft lips were set in con-
 
 IN CLOSER TOILS. 333 
 
 stant effort to repress emotion. Blake briefly told them 
 how calm and brave Ray was, how he had refused to 
 explain about the pistol, or to give any particulars of 
 his quarrel with Gleason, merely saying it had been 
 of long standing. There were many things that he, 
 Blake, must attend to at once, and so, if they would 
 excuse him, he wished to see Mrs. Truscott a moment, 
 and she followed him to the piazza falteringly. 
 
 " Ray told me to give this note to no one but you, 
 Mrs. Truscott, and I inferred that he wished you only 
 to see it," said he. 
 
 To his surprise, she drew back her hand. Her lips 
 began to quiver, her eyes to refill. She made no effort 
 to take it. He looked at. her wonderingly. 
 
 " Mr. Blake I I cannot take it. I cannot ex 
 plain !" And then, abruptly turning, she rushed into 
 the house and up the stairs. 
 
 Poor Blake stood one moment in dire perplexity and 
 then went back. 
 
 " She wouldn't take it, Billy. She said she couldn't ; 
 but d n me if I can fathom it." 
 
 Ray's eyes grew stony. Every vestige of color left 
 his face. He covered it with his thin white hands, and 
 the man who had braved death and torture to save his 
 comrades, who had borne uncomplainingly, resolutely, 
 patiently, the trying ordeal of his examination by a 
 gang of suspicious men, who had suffered in silence the 
 ignominy of a criminal charge rather than drag to light 
 a defence that might involve a woman's name, now 
 quivered and shuddered and turned to the wall with 
 one low moan of agony, cut to the heart by the fragile 
 hand he would have died to shield.
 
 334 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 
 
 To a man of Mr. Blake's temperament the next few 
 days were hard to bear. He was worried half to death, 
 and yet, when Mrs. Turner saw an opportunity, and 
 with a suggestive glance at his lean legs, sympatheti 
 cally inquired "if he wasn't afraid he'd lose all his 
 flesh," he was fully able to appreciate the feminine 
 dexterity and malice of the allusion. His quick wit 
 could have suggested a deserved repartee ; but even in 
 his misery Blake would say no wounding word to a 
 lady of the regiment. He had good reason to take 
 very little comfort in her. however, as an exponent of 
 the regimental feeling on which the th had prided 
 itself. Mrs. Turner was far too voluble on the subject 
 of the awful disgrace that had been brought on their 
 good name by this fearful tragedy, and while she hoped 
 <md prayed Mr. Ray might be innocent, it was evident 
 that she was far from believing it a possibility. Just 
 now her time was taken up with Mrs. Whaling and 
 the infantry officers, for there was a blockade at num 
 ber 11. The ladies had twice asked to be excused when 
 Mrs. Whaling and Mrs. Turner called. Mrs. Trus- 
 cott was feeling unable to see any one, said the servant, 
 but Mrs. Stannard was with her. 
 
 But Blake had expected nothing better of Mrs. Tur 
 ner, and attached little importance to her opinion.
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 335 
 
 What had stung him to the quick was the sight of 
 Ray's suffering when that note came back to him re 
 fused. He was amazed at Mrs. Truscott, for to his 
 masculine mind and to Kay's worn and wearied senses 
 only one construction of her conduct was apparent, 
 she believed him guilty, and shrank from his note as 
 she would from his blood-stained hand. Of that deso 
 late night neither' he nor Ray could ever be brought to 
 speak thereafter. Blake sat for hours by the bedside 
 of his stricken friend listening in helpless misery and 
 wrath to the occasional changing of the sentries, and 
 watching, as a sorrowing mother might watch, Ray's 
 wordless suffering. Most of the night he lay with his 
 face buried in his arms ; but Blake could see by the 
 clinching hand, the shudders that often shook his frame, 
 the constant, nervous tapping of his foot beneath the 
 coverlet, that he was wide awake, alive to all his sor 
 rows. The doctor had come and prescribed sedatives, 
 and promised to come again if he did not sleep. Ray 
 had silently taken the medicine, and for one instant- 
 Blake had caught sight of the face that was now dear 
 to him as any brother's. He threw himself on his 
 knees and tried to draw the hands away as Ray once 
 again turned to the wall. 
 
 "For God's sake, Billy," he wellnigh sobbed, 
 " don't turn from me so ! There ain't a man in all 
 the th could believe it of you. What need you care 
 for what a nervous woman thinks ?" 
 
 But Ray only pressed his hand a moment, and simply 
 said, 
 
 " I'll come round all right after a while. Don't 
 worry, old fellow."
 
 336 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 But he hadn't " oorae round." At midnight Blake 
 decided he must have a drink, and he offered Ray some 
 whiskey, thinking to benefit him in some way. Ray 
 heard, and said nothing, but put out his hand and 
 gently pushed it away, shaking his head, and this 
 capped the climax of Blake's perplexity. At one 
 o'clock, seeing that Ray was still wide awake, he had 
 decided to go and fetch the doctor. He was fearful of 
 the effect of this long mental strain, but Ray seemed 
 to divine his thoughts, and in a voice so soft and 
 patient as to melt Blake's raging into tears, he begged 
 him not to disturb any one. " I've got you, Blake ; 
 what do I want of a doctor ?" 
 
 Along towards morning Blake dragged in his buffalo- 
 robes, and spreading them on the floor by the bedside, 
 soon dropped into a sleep of utter exhaustion. When 
 he awoke Ray was standing at the window, cleanly 
 shaved, dressed in his newest and neatest undress uni 
 form, and listening calmly to Mr. Warner, who, in a 
 voice plainly showing his agitation, was saying some 
 thing that brought Blake to his feet with a single 
 bound. A warrant had been issued as the natural re 
 sult of the inquest, the officers of the law had come 
 out from town, and it was the commanding officer's 
 order that he be turned over to the custody of the civil 
 authorities. 
 
 Blake would have burst into a fury of invective and 
 denunciation, but Ray's hand restrained him. Still 
 weak from his unhealed wound, from recent illness, 
 from mental agitation and sleeplessness, Blake thought 
 he never saw Ray so brave, so strong, as when he made 
 his reply.
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 337 
 
 " It was my expectation to see the commanding officer 
 this morning, Mr. Warner, as my dress indicates. 
 Since he remands me to the charge of the civil authori 
 ties, what I had to say to him must be said to them. 1 
 shall be ready as soon as I can change to civilian 
 dress." 
 
 And so, with only Blake to help stow away the few 
 books and papers he desired to lock in his trunk, for 
 even faithful Hogan had been forbidden to enter the 
 room, Ray quietly made his preparations, and in a 
 few minutes stood arrayed in a business suit that had 
 been made for him years before, and was decidedly out 
 of fashion. A carriage had driven to his door, and 
 two heavily-built men were lounging at the gate. Blake, 
 wild with nervousness and wrath, was making slow 
 progress with his dressing, and Ray took from him the 
 little hand-bag he was bunglingly striving to pack. 
 
 " I'll do this, Blake. You go on with your dressing. 
 Of course I understand you mean to go in with me ; 
 but now let me say a word. I have had plenty of 
 time to think, and this is just what I want, what I" 
 must have. Nothing short of a full trial can satisfy 
 me now ; and as for being handed over to the civil au 
 thorities, well, is it any worse than what I have had 
 to bear here f" 
 
 " By heaven ! but there'll come a day of reckoning 
 for that cold-blooded, soulless, bowelless, old block in 
 the headquarters office. Just think of the kicking 
 he'll get when the th comes home ! But, Ray, what 
 I'm worried about is this, bail, you know. You 
 can't stay there in jail, and I don't know any of these 
 
 local plutocrats " 
 
 p w 29
 
 338 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " I've thought of all that. You are to ask no one. 
 If I were out on bail I would have to come back here, 
 and in all the world there is no spot where I have 
 known such misery. I prefer the jail at Cheyenne to 
 such freedom as this has been at Russell. In a few 
 days my sister will reach me, and then we'll see. Now 
 hurry, I want to get away before guard-mounting." 
 
 In a few minutes Blake was ready, and Ray told him 
 to call in the officers. They entered the room, and the 
 first one, as he did so, by an instinct which he could 
 not himself explain, took off his hat as he caught sight 
 of Ray standing quietly at the window ; his followers, 
 though evidently unused to such a display, followed 
 suit. The leader began to read his warrant, but Ray 
 raised his hand and smilingly checked him. 
 
 " Never mind it, my friend ; it is all in due form, no 
 doubt. You brought handcuffs, I suppose ?" 
 
 And the man was already fumbling in his left pocket 
 for them. Ray went on in the same quiet tone, 
 
 " You won't need them, so keep them in your pocket. 
 "I am glad to go with you now if you are ready." 
 
 And the officer, who, like every man in Cheyenne, 
 had heard all about the night ride that saved Wayne's 
 command, and respected the " young feller" that made 
 it, was glad to find an awkward question put out of his 
 way. He had reddened with embarrassment, but was 
 grateful to Ray for taking the trouble off his mind. 
 As they left the house, and poor Hogan, looking over 
 the banisters up-stairs, broke into an Irish wail of 
 grief, and the corporal of the guard instinctively 
 brought his left hand up to the shoulder in a salute 
 that made his musket ring, a casual observer would
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 339 
 
 have said that Mr. Kay was showing his visitors to 
 their carriage. The door shut with a snap, the horses 
 started with a crack of the whip, and in another moment 
 the silent quartette were whirled away through the east 
 gate before anybody " up the row" was fully aware of 
 what was going on. 
 
 Meantime, there had been a night of misery else 
 where in the garrison. Mrs. Stannard had asked per 
 mission of the officer of the day to go to Ray with the 
 doctor at nine o'clock ; the officer of the day said he 
 would go and see the colonel and let her know. He 
 went, but did not return. At ten o'clock Mrs. Stan 
 nard wrote a note to the colonel, and that punctilious 
 soldier replied through his adjutant at half-past ten. 
 He was very sorry, but for several reasons he was com 
 pelled to refuse all applications to see Mr. Ray until 
 the morrow. Mrs. Stannard in her indignation could 
 hardly find words to thank Mr. Warner for the cour 
 tesy he personally displayed in the matter. She sent 
 a servant to the corporal of the guard to ask him to 
 say to Mr. Blake that she desired earnestly to see him 
 a moment ; the corporal said he would as soon as he had 
 posted the next sentry ; but he forgot it until long after 
 eleven, owing to an excitement over in the band quar 
 ters, and then Blake thought it best to wait until morn 
 ing, and so it happened that one woman whose heart 
 was full of faith in and sympathy for Ray was balked 
 of her desire to send him full assurance of her thought 
 for him. She could not sleep, however, and at mid 
 night walked alone down the row and asked the soldier 
 
 o 
 
 at the gate to give this little note for Ray to the sentinel 
 within, but the man came sadly and respectfully back.
 
 340 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 The sentry dare not pass it in : it was against his orders. 
 She looked wistfully at the dim light showing through 
 the curtains of the front room, but turned wearily 
 away. A dim light was burning, too, in Mrs. Trus- 
 cott's room up the row, and she tapped softly at the 
 door, thinking that, like herself, they might be still 
 awake ; but no answer came, and, at last, she went to 
 her own lonely quarters. Oh, how she longed for her 
 brave, blunt, outspoken Luce that night ! He could 
 find a way of helping Ray, and would do it despite all 
 the official trammels that the post commander could 
 devise. She was sick at heart, but next door lay a 
 woman whose unrest was greater still, whose trouble 
 seemed more than she could bear. Mrs. Truscott had 
 arrived at the conclusion before ten o'clock that night 
 that she was the most miserable woman on the face of 
 the globe. 
 
 Jack's letter arriving the day previous was as kind, 
 as well expressed, and as thoughtful a screed as ever 
 mortal husband penned, but, being like other husbands, 
 only mortal, he had failed to bring about the exact 
 effect which was intended. Whether this was his fault 
 or hers could not be determined entirely by an inspec 
 tion of a copy of the letter, since letters may be read 
 with a thousand different inflections, and the most pas 
 sionate heart-offering be made to sound like a torrent 
 of sarcasm. Perhaps it is neither here nor there whose 
 fault it was. Grace read the letter with burning self- 
 reproach. It was the second time he had had reason 
 to find fault with her. True, she had acted as she sup 
 posed for the best, and after consultation with Mrs. 
 Stannard. Mrs. Staunard's letter was to go by the next
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 34 { 
 
 mail and explain the whole thing to the major, who, if 
 he deemed advisable, would carry everything to Trus- 
 cott ; but, as we have seen, that explanatory letter had 
 never reached the regiment. It, with bags full of other 
 letters, was lying in the wagons at Goose Creek, while 
 the th was on the chase away to the Yellowstone, and 
 Grace had the misery of believing that Jack's last 
 thought of her as he rode off to battle was that she had 
 had some sentimental scene with Ray, had been sur 
 prised in the midst of it, and had concealed it from 
 him. She had spent a distracted afternoon, had written 
 Jack page after page, in which amid tears and kisses 
 she had recorded her determination never to let another 
 man see her alone an instant, never to receive a note of 
 any kind from Ray or anybody else, never to speak to 
 a man if she could help it ; she hated them all, all but 
 one, whom she had wronged and deceived, and whom 
 she adored and worshipped now, and heaven only 
 knows what all ! She felt comforted somehow when 
 she had slipped that letter into the box at the adjutant's 
 office late that night, and had gone so soundly asleep 
 that she might not have known of the murder until 
 morning but for Marion. And then, that next after 
 noon, that very next afternoon, after she had written 
 all her impulsive, wifelike, loving promises to Jack, 
 what should come but a note from Ray to be delivered 
 privately to her. Let any young wife of less than a 
 year's disenchantment put herself in Mrs. Truscott's 
 place and say what she would have done. Of course, 
 dear madam, I hear you say, vous autres, " She needn't 
 have made such a fool of herself! She might have 
 explained or something !" I quite agree with you. 
 
 29*
 
 342 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 That is what all of us think who have survived the 
 delirium of the honeymoon, that mielle de la lune-acy 
 which all of us must encounter as our children do the 
 measles ; but, you see, Mrs. Truscott was not yet 
 through with it, and what is more, I have heard you 
 remark on several occasions that she was an awfully 
 weak sort of a heroine and would make Jack wretched 
 yet. Bless your womanly hearts ! I never pretended 
 that she was a Zenobia, or a Jeanne la Pucelle, or a 
 Susan B. Anthony. She was absurd, if you will, but 
 she was utterly in love with her husband, as Mrs. Turner 
 said, and thought far more of him than the rest of man 
 kind put together, which is more than some of you can 
 say, though I'm bound to admit that she had better reason 
 than most of you, placens uxor mea frankly included. 
 
 She had rushed up-stairs for a fresh burst of tears, 
 and presently Marion, all love and sympathy, came to 
 see her, and the result of that interview complicated 
 matters in a way that baffles description. So far from 
 upholding her course, Miss Sanford had looked first 
 grave, then frightened, then indignant. In plain words 
 she told her that at such a time, when the man who 
 had saved her life, saved her honor, showed himself 
 her best friend, her husband's best friend, stood charged 
 with a foul crime of which she well knew him to be 
 guiltless, and had sent her a simple note that could 
 have no possible purpose other than to say that now, at 
 last, he might, to save his own name, have to tell of 
 Gleason's fiendish conduct towards her to refuse it, to 
 send it back " Oh, Grace, Grace, you don't mean you 
 could have done that I Oh, it was monstrous ! it was 
 shameful !"
 
 THE GRASP OF THE LAW. 343 
 
 And Marion Sanford had rushed into her own room, 
 banged yes, banged the door, locked it, put a chair 
 against it, would have moved the washstand up against 
 it, but her strength gave out, and she hurled herself 
 upon the bed in a tempest of passionate tears. 
 
 Ah, well ! even now ten years after it is no easy 
 thing to write or tell of those days. It was part of 
 our purpose to go around the garrison and show how 
 other people looked at the matter, but it may be as well 
 to say that, except Blake, Warner, and the surgeon, every 
 officer thought Ray guilty. So, too, did most of the 
 men except over in the band quarters, where there was 
 the excitement that night. It was caused by the snare 
 drummer, a pugnacious young Celt, who burst in upon 
 his comrades at eleven o'clock with a loud defiance of 
 " doughboy" justice, and an oath that he know'd the 
 man as shot Gleason and suspicioned Ray, and he'd 
 have him at the gallows yet. 
 
 Reporters and special correspondents had been at the 
 fort interviewing everybody who would talk and, after 
 the manner of their kind, making the dumb speak in a 
 way that would put to the blush the miracles of holy 
 writ. There seemed but one theory among those in 
 authority, that Ray was guilty. This was duly her 
 alded to an eager public, and the evening extra and the 
 morning journals in columns of detail had prepared 
 all minds for the culprit's coming. A crowd that 
 blocked the street had gathered in front of the building 
 in which were located the offices of the marshal, the 
 sheriff, and other legal magnates, and Ray's pale, sad 
 face looked out upon a host of curious eyes, in which 
 his own, brave and unflinching, caught not one gleam
 
 344 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 of sympathy. Deadwood Dick, a ruffian who had 
 murdered a soldier for his money, went in through that 
 door-way a fortnight before amid many shouts of en 
 couragement and the buoyant reflection that no local 
 jury had yet found a verdict of guilty against a citizen 
 of Wyoming where the offence committed was against 
 the peace or property of Uncle Sam. But a jury that 
 would triumphantly acquit the self-styled " Scourge of 
 Sandy Bottom" on the ground of temporary insanity 
 would be apt to look less leniently upon one of those 
 swells at the fort. Had there been a man to raise the 
 ct la lanterne of rejoicing democracy, had not the 
 murdered man been himself one of the official class, 
 Blake and his revolver would probably have stood 
 alone between the accused and lynching. As it was, 
 but for the one faithful comrade of all who had loved 
 and believed in him, realizing it all, yet calm, sad, and 
 self-possessed, Ray stood at the bar of justice practically 
 friendless. 
 
 It was early when Mrs. Stannard came down from 
 her room after an almost sleepless night. First call 
 for guard-mounting was just sounding as she stepped 
 out on the piazza and noted little knots of men here 
 and there, all gazing intently towards the east gate, 
 where the dust as of a recently passing vehicle was 
 settling back to earth. She opened Mrs. Truscott's 
 door, and saw Marion Sanford slowly descending the 
 stairs, her face very white and wan. Out in the dining- 
 room could be heard voluble voices, weeping, and Irish 
 expletives of mingled wrath and grief, and then, with 
 eyes dilating with horror, with streaming hair, with 
 pallid lips and a ghastly look in her white face, Grace
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 345 
 
 Truscott, clad in a morning wrapper, came rushing 
 through the little parlor into the hall, gave one glance 
 at her girl friend, and then, stretching forth her arms, 
 she cried, 
 
 " Oh, Maidie, Maidie ! It's all my doing. They 
 they've ca-carried him off to jail !" 
 
 And then prone upon the stairs she threw herself, 
 burying her face from sight of all. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 
 
 THE duty of assorting the papers and caring for the 
 property of the late officer had devolved upon Lieu 
 tenant Warner. Telegrams from relatives in the dis 
 tant East had requested that the remains be sent thither 
 by express for burial, and only a few hours after the 
 accused murderer was taken into custody the body of 
 the victim of the midnight assassination had been turned 
 over to the undertaker in town for necessary prepara 
 tions. The garrison seemed still paralyzed by the shock, 
 and except the sentries at the storehouses and stables, 
 there was little appearance of military duty going on. 
 Guard-mounting was conducted without music, and the 
 customary drills of the recruits were out of sight. It 
 was an atmosphere of gloom that pervaded the garri 
 son, and only one of its ladies had been seen on the 
 promenade for two days. Mrs. Whaling, like some
 
 346 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 human fungus, seemed to thrive in the pall-like depth 
 of the social darkness and depression. She circled from 
 house to house, and swooped down upon the inmates, 
 flapping and croaking the old story of woe and fore 
 boding; or, what was welcome in comparison, some 
 new tale of further entanglement for Kay. Judging 
 from that righteous lady's conversation, there seemed 
 no doubt that she and the Omnipotent Judge had set 
 tled it between them just when he was to be hanged. 
 She was one of the first to receive and to enlighten with 
 her views a serious young man who came from Denver 
 with a letter to the commanding officer, and brought 
 with him a prominent and rising attorney from Chey 
 enne. These gentlemen seemed a trifle disconcerted at 
 the fact that the few questions they addressed to the 
 colonel were promptly answered by his wife, and when 
 one of them finally looked at the other and remarked 
 that it was time to go and examine the premises and 
 the effects, the bearer of the letter not unnaturally hes 
 itated and coughed dubiously, he did not know 
 whether to ask permission of the officer or the lady. 
 They declined her invitation to have a cup of tea and 
 some luncheon, saying they had dined in town, and the 
 colonel said he would walk down with them. Only 
 Mr. "Warner had been allowed in the quarters since the 
 inquest. 
 
 They had gone but a few steps along the walk when 
 a hack drove up, and Mr. Blake, catching sight of 
 them from its interior, shouted to the driver, sprang 
 out, and, stiffly saluting the commanding officer, handed 
 the lawyer a batch of telegraphic despatches, and, tak 
 ing the little man from Denver to one side, said a few
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 347 
 
 words to him in a whisper, then turned, and was walk 
 ing away, when the colonel concluded it time to assert 
 himself. 
 
 " Mr. Blake !" he called. 
 
 " Sir," said Blake, facing him but coming no nearer. 
 
 " You appear to have been in town, sir. Had you 
 permission to leave the post ?" 
 
 " I did not think to ask, sir. As the only friend 
 Mr. Ray appeared to have in this garrison I went with 
 him to jail." 
 
 " You will think, hereafter, and not presume to go 
 without my consent." 
 
 " Then I take this opportunity to ask permission, 
 colonel ; I desire to return to my friend this afternoon, 
 - in ten minutes in fact." 
 
 " The post regulations, sir, require that such appli 
 cations should be made at my office between nine and 
 ten A.M. I am not disposed to consider them at other 
 times, especially where gentlemen absent themselves 
 without authority." And ne turned majestically away. 
 
 " Am I to understand, colonel, that you refuse me 
 permission to return to Mr. Ray in such an emergency 
 as this ?" choked Blake. 
 
 " I will consider it, sir. I will take it into ahem ! 
 consideration when I have finished other matters. 
 Now, gentlemen, we will proceed," And so, having es 
 tablished the fact that after all he was the post com 
 mander, and laid the ghost of their lingering doubt, 
 Colonel Whaling led on down the row with the duly 
 reassured civilians, and Blake, too much saddened by 
 recent events to feel the wrath that at other times would 
 have overpowered him, contented himself with glaring
 
 348 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 after his chief a moment, ejaculating, " The bloodless 
 old mummy !" and then turning on his heel, he went 
 to his lonely quarters. 
 
 The lawyer read the despatches, handed them to his 
 Denver friend, pointing significantly to a clause in one 
 of them, and the colonel felt himself omitted from their 
 confidences. The sentry at the door of the quarters 
 lately occupied by Mr. Gleason presented arms to the 
 post commander and looked inquiringly at the civilians. 
 " You may admit these two gentlemen," he said, " and 
 pass them in and out, but no one else except the adju 
 tant. Is he here now ?" 
 
 Mr. Warner's voice from within answered yes, and 
 the party entered. The adjutant was seated at a table 
 in the front room with a pile of envelopes and letters 
 before him. He rose as they entered. 
 
 "Mr. Warner," said the colonel, "this gentleman 
 is sent here from Denver under telegraphic request 
 from department headquarters. They failed to notify 
 me of such intention," he added, in a tone of official 
 grievance, "but I presume it is all right. He is a 
 member of the Mountain Detective force, and desires 
 to make full inspection of the premises. I presume 
 you can confer with him and with Mr. a Green." 
 
 He lingered a moment as though in expectation of 
 an invitation to remain, but none came. 
 
 Blake meantime had been searching about Ray's 
 room. He ransacked through an old valise that lay 
 under the camp-bed, tossing diaries, scouting books, 
 itineraries, rough field maps and sketches out on the 
 floor, until he came to a package marked " Mem. Re 
 ceipts." This he glanced through, gave it a satisfied
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 349 
 
 slap, and stowed it in a portable writing-desk, replaced 
 in the valise the disturbed items, and then went on 
 packing some changes of underclothing and linen in 
 Ray's little trunk. Twice he called for Hogan, but 
 the shouts were unanswered. He went to the door to 
 summon the hack-driver to take the trunk, and the 
 man said that a lady had just stepped down to ask if 
 he would come up there to number eleven when he could 
 find time. Looking thither, he saw Mrs. Stannard at 
 the open door of Truscott's quarters, and went at once. 
 Her voice trembled so that she could hardly ask for 
 Ray. 
 
 " He is just what those who know him would expect 
 him to be, Mrs. Stannard, calm and resolute. I never 
 saw a man appear to better advantage than he did be 
 fore the officials there in town. I never knew how 
 much there was in him until to-day. Mr. Green ten 
 dered his legal services and had a short talk with him, 
 and he's out here now ; so is a detective from Denver, 
 and Colonel Rand will get here from department head 
 quarters to-morrow. Oh, we shan't be without friends, 
 though it did look mighty like it at first." 
 
 " But what about bail, Mr. Blake ? How soon can 
 he will he return here?" 
 
 " He desires no bail, Mrs. Stannard ; jail is prefer 
 able to Fort Russell so far as his treatment is concerned," 
 he said, indignantly. " You seem to be the only friend 
 he has." 
 
 Mrs. Stannard flushed and lowered her voice. 
 
 " Did you explain to him, or rather did he ask why 
 Mrs. Truscott could not receive his letter ?" 
 . " What was there to explain ? What was there to 
 
 30
 
 350 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ask?" he broke forth in wrath. "Only one explana 
 tion was possible, and of course I would not speak of 
 it. What could any one think but that she believed 
 him guilty, and would have no communication with 
 him?" 
 
 That was a shot that told. Before Mrs. Stannard 
 could reply there was a rustle of skirts and a stifled 
 sob within the hall-way, a rush of light footsteps up 
 the stairs, but the door opened and Marion Sanford 
 appeared. Blake started to see how white and wan and 
 sad she looked, but she came straight to him. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. Blake ; we were coming out to 
 see you as you spoke, Mrs. Truscott and I. We do 
 not wonder that you and Mr. Ray should feel as you 
 do, but that was all a piteous mistake about that letter 
 last night." She held forth her soft white hand. " Shake 
 hands, Mr. Blake. It wasn't at all what you thought ; 
 it was a very, very different reason, and he will forgive 
 when he knows. You brought a note from him last 
 night. Will you take this to him from me ?" 
 
 " Let me run in and see Mrs. Truscott a moment," 
 said Mrs. Stannard at this juncture, and hurried into 
 the hall, leaving them alone on the piazza. 
 
 Blake noted the dark circles under her pleading eyes ; 
 he saw plainly the evidences of anxiety and sorrow ; 
 he could not but see that, despite the resolution of her 
 words and manner, her voice was tremulous, and the 
 brave eyes that looked unflinchingly into his were fill 
 ing with tears she could not repress. He recalled all 
 her enthusiasm in that still uncompleted purchase of 
 Dandy, in her munificence to Hogan. He knew well that 
 no matter how he might have misjudged Mrs. Trus-
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 351 
 
 cott's motives he had no right or reason, whatever, in 
 letting himself think that this brave, glorious, loyal 
 girl could have been shaken one instant in her faith in 
 his friend. Why, even Ray had checked him sternly 
 when, during the night, he had once burst forth in an 
 impetuous tirade against the worthlessness of a woman's 
 faith, and now he could have kicked himself had it 
 been anatomically possible even for his marvellous 
 length and loose-jointedness of leg. In default thereof 
 he would have dropped on his knee; but somebody, 
 rieveral somebodies, watched the interesting interview 
 from a distance. He bowed over the extended hand 
 as a courtier might over that of a queen ; he wished 
 he dare kiss it on the same on any basis, but he took 
 it warmly. 
 
 " Forgive me for every word, Miss Sanford ; but 
 I've been sore tried of late." 
 
 " I would be less apt to forgive you if you did not 
 resent every suspicion of Mr. Ray. It is too late to 
 undo last night's wretched work, or the misery it caused 
 us. I have tried to explain it all for Mrs. Truscott, 
 but what I want now is to know what he needs. Is it 
 money, or influence, or anything? Tell me truly, Mr. 
 Blake ; I want to know all you can tell me." 
 
 " You shall know before I tell another soul. As yet, 
 forgive me again, this will supply his greatest need." 
 And holding up her note, he turned quickly away. 
 
 She was blushing now crimson, but there was 
 something she had to know, and so recalled him. 
 
 " Has anything new been discovered, have any steps 
 been taken towards finding the murderer ?" 
 
 "Mr, Green, the lawyer whom we have consulted,
 
 352 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 has had an interview with Kay, and he has a clue no\v 
 of some kind that is being investigated." 
 
 " And you know whom he suspects ?" 
 
 " He has not told me, Miss Sanford, and something 
 that occurred recently in the garrison had set rne to 
 asking him questions which he declined to answer, 
 another matter entirely, I saw he had reasons for 
 keeping it to himself " 
 
 " Mr. Blake, have you still that note he sent last 
 night?" 
 
 " No ; he burned that this morning." 
 
 "Has he said nothing nothing to indicate whom 
 he suspects ?" 
 
 " Not to me as yet. We have had too much to 
 attend to, perhaps, but it is plainly something he hates 
 to allude to." 
 
 " Look ! Mr. Blake ; they are calling you down 
 the row. You will come back and tell us what it is ?" 
 
 " Yes, and at once." 
 
 Warner and Mr. Green were indeed calling him. 
 Among the letters in the breast-pocket of Gleason's 
 blouse were three signed Rallston. They were reading 
 them with eager interest when the little detective from 
 Denver sauntered in from the rear room. 
 
 " This a gauntlet, lieutenant, was lying with some 
 other things on top of the bureau. Were you going to 
 pack it in the trunk ?" 
 
 "Yes. Why?" 
 
 " Well, a single right-hand glove won't be of much 
 use to the relatives of the deceased, especially an old 
 worn one like this. Where's the mate ?" 
 
 " I don't remember seeing one."
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 353 
 
 " Well, you soldiers don't generally keep one glove 
 without the other. Where was this before you put it 
 with the things ?" 
 
 " I picked it off the floor near the head of the bed." 
 
 " And there wasn't another thereabouts ?" 
 
 " I saw none." 
 
 The detective went back to his work, and the officers 
 with Mr. Green to the letters. When they had read 
 them through to the end, Blake arose. 
 
 " You will admit, Mr. Warner, that I have excellent 
 reason for asking and expecting permission to rejoin my 
 incarcerated friend now," said he, with sarcastic em 
 phasis. " If that doesn't knock the court-martial 
 charges cold as a wedge, what will ?" 
 
 " I never fully believed Mr. Ray guilty of those 
 charges, Blake, and you know it. I must see the colo 
 nel, of course, and show him these letters." 
 
 " Pardon me, Mr. Warner," said the lawyer. " Tell 
 him of them if you see fit, but as Mr. Ray's legal ad 
 viser I do not propose to let such important evidence 
 for the defence fall into the hands of the prosecution." 
 (Warner flushed hotly.) " I do not refer to you, my 
 dear sir, but to your commanding officer, who is under 
 stood to have worked up the case against my client, 
 and will naturally feel chagrined to find what liars his 
 witnesses were. Human nature, sir ; human nature." 
 
 "No, Warner, I don't mean you either, in that 
 case, that is," said Blake, all excitement over the late 
 discoveries ; " but these are ours, and by gad ! we mean 
 to hold them. Whoop ! Fiat justitia, rue it, Whal 
 ing's ! Go and tell your distinguished chief that I will 
 be pleased to know whether he has considered my ap- 
 x 30*
 
 354 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 plication yet. Here ! Hold on, Warner. D n it 
 all, man ! I'm unpardonable for mixing you and him 
 up in the matter. Forgive me, but I'm all unstrung 
 these last few days. If you fellows only knew Ray as 
 we do there wouldn't have been this trouble." 
 
 And they shook hands, and Warner went off to see 
 his chief, and had a quick conversation with him that 
 brought the blood to the usually colorless face of the 
 well-preserved veteran. The colonel arose hastily and 
 said he would go with them. He wanted to see those 
 letters, and he did, and looked strangely perturbed as 
 they were read to him, and then Blake again preferred 
 his request for permission to visit town and to remain 
 all night. The colonel hemmed and hawed. These 
 papers, of course, had an important bearing on the case 
 as it originally stood before the court-martial as ordered, 
 but matters had changed materially. " Mr. Ray is 
 now on trial for his life, you see, and before, he was 
 only on trial for a " 
 
 " Only for his honor," put in Blake, at the instant. 
 " Very true, colonel, only for his honor, and we have a 
 singular fashion in our regiment of looking upon the 
 one as quite as important as the other." 
 
 The colonel was wrathy. He was essentially what 
 is called an office soldier. He had regulations and 
 papers at his fingers' ends ; his whole army existence 
 had been spent in the preservation of his health and 
 the cultivation of the peaceful branches of his art. 
 No one ever heard of his shooting, riding, hunting, or 
 taking a risk of any kind. His habits were methodi 
 cal as those of the office clock, and his one dissipation 
 was the billiard-table. His theory of success was
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 355 
 
 founded on common sense : Take care of your health, 
 avoid dissipation, shun any and all danger, volunteer 
 for nothing, do only what you are compelled to do, shift 
 all possible work on somebody else's shoulders, preserve 
 a purely negative record, and you are bound to rise 
 to the highest grades in the army. It must be admitted 
 that the laws of promotion are admirably calculated to 
 foster just such a line of argument, and that Whaling's 
 " head was level." Now, though wrathy at Blake, he 
 Raw at once that he had been egregiously deceived as to 
 the evidence to be given by Rallston on the pending 
 court ; it was better policy to avoid all that might look 
 like persecution of Ray or Ray's friends ; he gave a 
 moment of thought to the matter, and then said, 
 
 " You may go, Mr. Blake, because I desire you and 
 your regiment to understand that I have no wish to 
 obtrude my ideas of discipline upon you at such a time. 
 At any other I would not have overlooked your mis 
 conduct." 
 
 " At any other time, sir, it probably would not have 
 occurred," said Blake, still hotly ; but the entrance of 
 the detective put an end to the talk. He still carried 
 the gauntlet in his hand. 
 
 " There is no mate to this in that room. What is 
 more, this glove never belonged to Lieutenant Gleason ; 
 it is four sizes too small for him. What officer or sol 
 dier ever wore one like that ?" he asked. 
 
 It was a worn and rein-soiled gauntlet, originally of 
 white wash-leather, finely stitched in silk, and with a 
 cuff or gauntlet heavily stiffened with leather inside ; 
 and this cuff instead of being joined was slashed from 
 wrist to end on the under side, and three little buttons
 
 356 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and straps were used to fasten it snugly to the arm after 
 being slipped over the hand. It was utterly unlike 
 any gauntlet in use in the United States cavalry at the 
 time ; it was utterly unlike those for sale in the stores 
 of Cheyenne. Blake examined it curiously, but could 
 remember none that resembled it. Leaving the others 
 examining the glove, he walked up the row. 
 
 Mrs. Stannard and Marion both came down. The 
 mere sight of his face brought eagerness and hope into 
 their eyes. It was to be observed at this juncture that 
 Mrs. Stannard's arm was around that slender waist. 
 The symptom has no significance, of course, among 
 school-girls or womanhood in general, but it meant a 
 good deal where either one of these women was con 
 cerned, and Blake knew it. . 
 
 " What wouldn't I give if the major were only here !" 
 he exclaimed, impetuously. " There are three letters 
 from Rallston there with a lot of others, showing clearly 
 what a conspiracy had been worked up against Hay by 
 that by Gleason. The last one was written in Den 
 ver only two days before only three days ago, and it 
 shows that he had completely gone back on Gleason, 
 and accuses him of all manner of blackguardly work. 
 He had some conscience after all, for he swears he never 
 thought Gleason would use what he told him to get 
 Ray into trouble. He was mad because Hay wouldn't 
 pass his horses. Oh, it breaks up the whole business ! 
 Green thinks he should be secured at once, and is going 
 to have the detectives after him the moment we can 
 telegraph. Whew ! Excuse me, ladies, but I'm warm !" 
 And Blake leaned limply against the railing and mopped 
 his brow.
 
 WHOSE GAUNTLET? 357 
 
 "Mr. Blake, have you eaten a thing to-day?'' 
 asked Mrs. Stannard. " Do come in and let me get 
 you a sandwich and a glass of wine." 
 
 " Not a morsel ! T want to hurry back to town to 
 hug Billy. I'm only waiting for Green. He tells me 
 that everything can be arranged so that Ray shall stay 
 where I left him, in a comfortable room in the jailor's 
 home instead of where that old bag of skin and bones 
 thought he'd get him." And he vengefully shook his 
 fist at the colonel, who was returning homeward to tell 
 his wife the wonderful tidings of the discoveries in 
 Gleason's pockets. Mrs. Stannard had not smiled for 
 two entire days, but Blake's reviving spirits and the 
 welcome news combined to bring back the sunshine to 
 her tired face. Marion, too, though listening in silence 
 to what was said, clung closer to her friend, and looked 
 up with thanksgiving in her eyes. Just then the law 
 yer and the little detective came, talking earnestly 
 together, up the row, and, naturally, all three studied 
 their looks and gestures with eager attention. 
 
 " That little Denverite is on a scent," said Blake in 
 a low tone ; " he has been hunting high and low for a 
 mate to a peculiar gauntlet that was found there. He 
 says Gleason could never have owned it." 
 
 "A gauntlet? What was it like?" asked Miss 
 Sanford, with a start. 
 
 " Like nothing we wear, that I ever saw. It's old 
 and worn, but was a handsome glove once." 
 
 " Mr. Blake, I I want to see it ! ask him if I may." 
 And she stepped eagerly forward, her blue eyes dilating, 
 her whole frame tremulous. 
 
 Blake sprang from the railing, and was by the deteo-
 
 358 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 tive's side in three long strides. At the whispered 
 words he spoke both the lawyer and the detective 
 glanced quickly and keenly at the ladies : the former 
 took off his hat to them, the latter seemed to hesitate 
 for a moment, then stepping forward, he courteously 
 bowed, took the gauntlet from an inner pocket, and 
 handed it to her. The instant she caught sight of it 
 she shuddered and shrank, though an eager, triumphant 
 light shot into her eyes ; then, as though by an effort, 
 she overcame the horror and repugnance that had seized 
 her, took it as she might a frog or worm, between 
 thumb and forefinger, and darted into the house, leav 
 ing all but Mrs. Stannard petrified with amaze. " Never 
 fear," said Mrs. Stannard. " I know where she has 
 taken it. She will be back in a moment." 
 
 Up the stairs she flew and into the front room, where 
 Mrs. Truscott sat by the window in a low rocking- 
 chair. 
 
 " Grace Truscott ! Look at this. Don't touch it ! 
 Look at those fastenings those buttons. Who was 
 the only person you ever saw wear a glove like that ?" 
 
 " Sergeant Wolf, Marion. Where how?" 
 
 But she was gone like a flash. Down the stairs 
 again, her feet twinkling like magic, out in the free air 
 among them all, her heart bounding, her blue eyes 
 blazing, her color vivid, brilliant. 
 
 " Take it !" she cried. " Take it ! The man who 
 murdered him, the man who wore that glove, was 
 Wolf, the deserter."
 
 REVELATIONS. 359 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 WHEN Colonel Rand arrived from Omaha the next 
 afternoon, and Blake met him at the depot, he found 
 that there was less for him to do than he imagined. 
 He had known Ray well for many years of his army 
 life, had served with him in Arizona, and was one of 
 his stanchest friends. He was wild with enthusiasm 
 when Truscott's despatch was received, telling of 
 Wayne's rescue and Ray's heroic conduct, and he was 
 furious over the tidings that his gallant friend had been 
 placed in arrest on charges that had not been investi 
 gated at department headquarters, or by anybody who 
 could represent Ray's interests. Even before the tele 
 grams came in from the regiment protesting against 
 Ray's trial in their absence, he had started for Kansas 
 City armed with a copy of the charges and specifica 
 tions, had easily determined that the civilians cited as 
 witnesses were men who really knew little or nothing, 
 but had only a vague, " hearsay" idea of matters, which 
 vigorous cross-questioning developed that they had 
 mainly derived from letters or talks of Gleason's, or had 
 got from Rallston himself, who, said they, was riled 
 because he couldn't play off a lot of broken-down mus 
 tangs for sound horses on that board. No one could 
 swear that he had seen Ray drink ; no one could swear 
 he had played any game for any stake ; no one could
 
 360 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 testify to a single act of liis that was in the faintest de 
 gree unofficerlike or unbecoming a gentleman. Indeed, 
 even the cads with whom Gleason consorted seemed to 
 have become inspired with contempt. And Rand went 
 back to Omaha satisfied that the charges were all con 
 spiracy. But Rallston had kept out of his way. He 
 could not reach him. No one knew where he was. 
 Some went so far as to say he was ashamed of having 
 been mixed up with Gleason in such a low piece of 
 business. Even Mrs. Rallston at Omaha could tell 
 nothing of her husband's whereabouts, and was in great 
 distress over the letters from her brother announcing 
 the trouble in which he was enveloped, all on account 
 of Rallston's rascality as she felt, though he would not 
 say. Then came the fearful news that Gleason was 
 murdered by her brother, and the next day she had sold 
 one of the beautiful solitaires that Rallston had given 
 her in the days when he was a dashing wooer, and on 
 the same train with Colonel Rand she hastened to Chey 
 enne. Blake was presented to her as she alighted from 
 the cars, and conducted her to the parlor of the hotel, 
 where in few words he told them of the discovery of 
 Rallston's letters in the dead man's pockets, and of 
 Wolf's gauntlet in the dead man's room. The detec 
 tives had urged that nothing should be revealed in this 
 last matter, as every effort was now being made to cap 
 ture the ex-sergeant, and that little man from Denver 
 had already a reply from his chief, saying that Rallston 
 was there and could be produced at any time. Poor 
 Mrs. Rallston ! She winced at the professional tech 
 nicalities, but wrote a hurried despatch, care of the 
 Rocky Mountain Dectective Agency, enjoining him to
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 come to them at once ; breathing no word of reproach 
 or blame, but telling him that his letters were now in 
 Ray's hands, and they felt that he bitterly regretted the 
 part he had taken in connection with Gleason. He 
 must come and exonerate her brother from the charge 
 of accepting a bribe, to which he was assigned as the 
 sole witness. 
 
 There was a further conference that need not be de 
 tailed. Colonel Rand desired first to see some of the 
 prominent business men whom he knew, as he proposed 
 to have Ray bailed out instanter no matter what that 
 young gentleman's wishes might be, and Blake, giving 
 her his arm, escorted Mrs. Rallston through the bus 
 tling streets until they reached the jail. Even then 
 there was a little knot of hangers-on watching with 
 wolfish curiosity every comer. The officials touched 
 their hats to Blake and his veiled companion, and 
 looked admiringly at her tall, graceful form. Already 
 something was beginning to whisper that justice had 
 been blinder than ever, had been groping painfully in 
 the dark, and had nabbed the wrong man. Mr. Per 
 kins and his jury had been basely and ungratefully 
 alluded to as a batch of leather heads, and it behooved 
 the sheriffs and others to look to the buttered side of 
 their bread, lest it, too, should fall in the municipal 
 mud. Blake felt her trembling as they passed through 
 the office into a long and dimly-lighted hall. 
 
 " Courage, Mrs. Rallston," he whispered. " We are 
 going to lose him, you and I, but it's to a very differ 
 ent captivity. Oh, he's gone this time past all saving. 
 Just wait till you see her !" And before she could ask 
 one question in her wonderment, a door was opened, 
 
 Q 31
 
 362 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 there was a fond, welcoming cry of " jSTell !" and for 
 the first time in all her life, so far as Ray could tell, the 
 sister fell forward, fainting, into his arms. Blake as 
 sisted in carrying her to the sofa, brought a glass of 
 water, and then, as she began to revive, he silently 
 withdrew and left them together. 
 
 Later that afternoon Colonel Rand, Mr. Green, and 
 Blake had a quiet consultation with the prisoner. The 
 matter of bail, said Rand, was already settled. On 
 his representations half a dozen prominent citizens had 
 signified their willingness to act. Mr. Green stated that 
 he had received advice of other oifers, at which Blake 
 was seen to give him a kick under the table whereon 
 their papers were spread. There was really nothing to 
 prevent the arrangement being made this evening so 
 that he might not have to pass another night under the 
 jail roof, but Ray was firm. He would not return to 
 Russell in arrest ; he would not accept his release until 
 it could be freedom ; he was treated courteously and 
 considerately by the sheriff's people, was allowed this 
 comfortable room instead of a cell, and he resolutely 
 refused all offer of bail so long as there remained a pre 
 text for the continuance of his arrest on other charges. 
 Rand himself, who had been accustomed to his quick, 
 impetuous ways for years, could hardly recognize in the 
 Ray of to-day the reckless, devil-may-care, laughing 
 fellow of two years ago. He seemed utterly changed. 
 He was years older in manner, grave, patient, tolerant 
 of the opinions of those about him, but doubly tena 
 cious of his own, and surprisingly capable of demonstra 
 ting their justice. 
 
 "It has simply come to this, colonel. I stand
 
 REVELATIONS. 353 
 
 charged at division headquarters of crimes that if 
 proven would dismiss me from the service. The 
 death of the principal witness is the worst mishap that 
 could have befallen me. It leaves me unvindicated, 
 because now we cannot impeach his testimony ; because 
 now my enemies can say that had he lived the result 
 might have been different. I urge, I claim that I must 
 be tried ; and Blake here is my witness that I have 
 said so from the very first. Nothing but a trial can 
 clear me fully of the infamous charges you hold there, 
 and no friend of mine will delay it an instant. So far 
 from postponing that court, I say hasten it. Let it sit 
 at once. I am ready to-day, any day to meet and re 
 fute the charges. I need no friend from the regiment, 
 from anywhere. I shall not draw on my field record 
 for a cent's worth of consideration. The case must bo 
 tried on its merits. I do not believe a witness need be 
 called for the defence, but until vindicated I protest 
 against any step that may send me back to Russell. 
 Answer as to that, and then we will come to this matter 
 of my situation here." 
 
 And Rand agreed with him that the court should 
 meet forthwith, and that telegrams should be sent at 
 once to division headquarters urging that no postpone 
 ment be granted. The despatch was written, and Blake 
 took it to the office. Then Ray went on with his talk : 
 
 " And now, colonel, I have waited for your coming 
 that in your presence I might refer to two points that, 
 as Mr. Green has said, bore heavily against me with 
 the coroner's jury, and would have to be met should 
 the case come to trial. Until it come to trial there are 
 one or two matters which I will not explain, simply
 
 364 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 because they concern others more than they do me. 
 As you have seen, suspicion is already pointing to Ser 
 geant Wolf. I have connected him with the murder 
 from the first. The detective has ascertained beyond 
 doubt that that was his glove ; that a horse was tied at 
 the northeast corner of the hospital yard about the 
 time of the occurrence, and that a bandsman the 
 drummer is almost certain that my pistol, which did 
 the work, was in the sergeant's possession the night he 
 deserted. I know it was : this note will prove it." And 
 he produced from an envelope bearing the Laramie 
 City postmark, and addressed to him at Russell, a sheet 
 of note-paper on which, without date or signature, was 
 written, " I had to take your pistol. Time was every 
 thing. The enclosed twenty dollars will pay." " Com 
 pare that writing," he continued, " with dozens of speci 
 mens to be found in the office at Russell, and that will 
 settle it. 
 
 " Now, the jury could not understand why I refused 
 to let Hogan have my pistol that night. It was be 
 cause I knew it was gone, and I did not wish any one 
 else to know it. The colonel could not understand 
 why I would not tell the cause of Wolf's desertion. I 
 did not wish any one to know. Everybody, I presume, 
 wanted to know how I explained away the presence of 
 my pistol at the scene, and that was another thing I 
 wanted kept in the dark until until released from a 
 promise that involved the peace of one whom I was 
 bound to protect. (Mrs. Rallston's eyes were dilating 
 to twice their usual size.) As soon as notified of the 
 decision of that jury, I wrote saying that it might soon 
 be necessary to save my honor to reveal what I had
 
 REVELATIONS. 365 
 
 kept so sacred. No answer came until until last 
 night ; full and free release from my promise ; but I 
 believe that all may be kept sacred still. You will un 
 derstand that I am prepared to explain these matters 
 should the case come to trial, but not before." 
 
 Even as he was speaking there came a knock at the 
 door : a telegram for Mr. Green. The lawyer opened 
 and read it, thought earnestly a moment, and then left 
 the room, saying he would soon return. It was getting 
 dark, and Ray lighted the oil lamp that stood upon its 
 bracket. Rand was watching his every movement, and 
 had been quietly jotting some memoranda of his state 
 ments. As the young cavalryman returned to his seat 
 by his sister's side and took her hand in his, the colonel 
 remarked, 
 
 " Ray, I thought I knew you pretty well all these 
 years, but I believe I'm only just beginning to get 
 acquainted with you. Blake said you had astonished 
 him, but your capacity for taking things coolly is an 
 unexpected trait to more than one, I fancy. Now I'm 
 going to take Mrs. Rallston over to the hotel for tea, 
 and then we are coming back. Tell Blake I want him 
 to apply to his post commander for a seven days' leave 
 to-night. I'll send it out and see that he gets it. If 
 you won't go back to Russell he must be here with you. 
 Ah ! here he comes now !" 
 
 " Where's Green ?" was the exclamation that greeted 
 their ears as Blake bolted in, all excitement. " I want 
 him, quick. Billy, they've got that man "Wolf, and he 
 wants to see you or somebody. He's pretty near gone 
 and fought like a tiger, they say." 
 
 " "Where is he ?" asked Rand, springing to his feet.
 
 366 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Just out here at the edge of town in a blackguardly 
 sort of dive. It's my belief they've kept him there 
 hid ever since the night of the murder. Come, we 
 must have Green and the sheriif. I know Ray can go 
 with us. There'll be a carriage in a minute." 
 
 " Let me escort you to the hotel, Mrs. Rallston," 
 said Hand, " then I can go with them. This means 
 confirmation of our theory and the end of our troubles," 
 he said, reassuringly. Ray, very pale and very quiet, 
 kissed her good-night and saw her to the hall, promis 
 ing to send for her as soon as was possible. Then, as 
 for a moment he was left alone, he took from an inner 
 pocket a crumpled little note that Blake had brought 
 him the previous evening, read it lingeringly, though 
 with eyes that softened and glowed with a light that no 
 one yet had seen, and when he had finished he stood 
 there gazing at the signature and the few words with 
 which the note was concluded : 
 
 " Believe me, dear Mr. Ray, she never for an instant 
 thought you guilty. And now good-night. I shall 
 pray God to watch over and cheer you. Need I tell 
 you that your trouble has made me only the more 
 
 " Loyally your friend, MARION SANFORD." 
 
 Oh, Ray ! Ray ! Here was strength and cheer and 
 comfort for twenty men. No wonder you could bear 
 the slings and arrows of your outrageous fortune with 
 thaL charming endorsement ! No wonder people thought 
 you changed ! What would people think or rather 
 what would they say if they knew of that letter and 
 its very comforting conclusion ? What will be said of
 
 RE VELA TIONS. 367 
 
 our heroine, Marion, when these damaging particulars 
 are brought to light ? What would the girls at Madame 
 Reichard's have said? though they knew she had a 
 romantic streak in her, and was a worshipper of heroes ? 
 What will the cold and unsympathetic and critical 
 reader remark of the unmaidenly lack of reserve which 
 prompted those last few lines? What will Marion 
 herself say when she hears of them as thus ruthlessly 
 dragged to the bar of public opinion ? Poor Marion ! 
 Her cheeks will redden, her eyes flash and suffuse, her 
 heart beat like a trip-hammer, her white teeth set, her 
 soft lips will firmly close. She will be annoyed. She 
 may admit that in cold blood under any other circum 
 stances she would never have so committed herself, 
 and that nothing but the thought of the wrongs and 
 sorrows and sufferings that had been heaped one after 
 another upon the undeserving head of that luckiest of 
 young Kentuckians would ever have betrayed her into 
 such an outburst of sentiment. She may admit what 
 indeed was the truth, that she wrote the whole thing 
 after a vehement interview with Grace, at a time when 
 she thought she saw her gallant friend dragged off to 
 jail, believing he had been denied by those whom he 
 was actually suffering to shield. She may say that, 
 had there been time, she would have less pointedly 
 worded the closing sentence. But of one thing you 
 may be certain, once and for all, she said just what 
 she thought, and now against the opinion of the whole 
 world if need be she will stand by those words through 
 thick and thin, she will never retract. 
 
 And as for Eay : he gazed upon them as he might 
 upon a heaven-inspired message from a better world ;
 
 368 . MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 he bowed his head and kissed, reverently, humbly, 
 prayerfully, the sweet and thrilling words ; and then, 
 and then he bent his knee and bowed his head, and 
 with deeper reverence, with humility such as he had 
 never known before, with a prayer that came from the 
 depths of his loyal heart, he thanked God for the in 
 finite blessing that had come to him through the dark 
 ness of his bitter trials ; he rose calm, strengthened, 
 steadfast, as he heard the rapidly-approaching footsteps 
 of his friends. 
 
 Less than half an hour thereafter a little group sat 
 in silence around a rude bed in a darkened room. Out 
 side, sullen and scowling, two rough-looking men, the 
 owners of the establishment, were guarded by the offi 
 cers of the law, while within, Ray, Blake, Mr. Green, 
 the sheriff, and an officer of the territorial court were 
 listening to the dying deposition of the Saxon soldier 
 Wolf, the physicians had declared it impossible for 
 him to live another day. 
 
 Late on the night of the murder three men, return 
 ing townwards from the " house on the hill," had come 
 suddenly upon a gray horse dragging a man by the 
 stirrup. They picked the man up and carried him into 
 the gambling-house at the edge of town, where they laid 
 him upon this bed. Noting the U. S. on the shoulder 
 of the horse and his cavalry equipments, they seat him 
 away in charge of one of their number, and proceeded 
 to search the pockets of the still insensible soldier, who 
 was clad in comparatively new " ranchman's" clothing, 
 and who wore a gauntlet on his left hand. He had 
 revived for a moment, was told that he was among 
 friends and had nothing to fear. He said his horse
 
 REVELATIONS. 359 
 
 had stumbled into an acequia in the darkness and 
 fallen on him, and now he wanted to get up. They 
 assured him no horse was there ; that, finding him in 
 sensible, they had carried him to this place, where he 
 was all right " if he kept quiet," and Wolf soon re 
 alized that he was in a notorious " dive" where soldiers 
 were often drugged and robbed of their money. He 
 was locked in that night, and though suffering intensely 
 from internal injuries, he strove to make his escape. 
 The next morning people in the neighborhood heard 
 appalling cries and uproar, but such things had often 
 happened there before in the drunken fights that took 
 place, and not until this day had it leaked out in some 
 way that there was a man there dying from injuries 
 received partly in a runaway and partly in a fight in 
 the house. The police made a raid, and there discov 
 ered the very man for whom the detectives and the 
 military were searching high and low. His first words 
 were to ask for Lieutenant Ray, then for a physician 
 and a lawyer. And now his story was almost done. 
 Ray was fully, utterly exonerated. 
 
 In brief, it was about as follows : He was mad with 
 rage at the treatment he had received at the hands of 
 Lieutenant Gleason, and at a deed of his which he 
 would not detail, Lieutenant Ray knew, and that was 
 enough. He himself had only one thought, to follow 
 at once on the trail, to find him alone if possible, and 
 to compel him to fight him as gentlemen fought, d ou- 
 trance, in the old country. He took Ray's pistol, and 
 after getting some papers and some clothing he needed 
 from the band barracks, he went to the stables, raised 
 the shutter, and crept into the window of the stall 
 y
 
 370 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 which held his horse, led him noiselessly out over the 
 earthen floor to the rear entrance, which was easily 
 opened from the inside, and long before dawn was 
 on the road to Fetterman, in pursuit of the stage. He 
 had no foar of ranch people betraying him as a deserter. 
 They knew nothing but what he was carrying de 
 spatches. He had received plenty of money but a 
 short time before through friends in Dresden ; he 
 hoped to secure fresh horses, and overtake the stage 
 before it reached a ranch where they stopped for meals 
 several hours south of Fetterman. His plan was wild 
 and impracticable, enough to throw doubts on his 
 sanity, but he only thought of revenge, he said ; he 
 was determined to waylay Gleason and force him to 
 fight. But his plan failed. His horse gave out long 
 before he could get another; he left him at a cattle 
 ranch finally, and went ahead on a borrowed " plug," 
 but to no purpose. Gleason reached Fettermau ahead 
 of him, and by the time he neared there he knew that 
 his desertion had been telegraphed. Still he thought 
 to follow as a scout or teamster, and bought rough 
 canvas and woolen clothing ; hung around the neigh 
 borhood, but avoided all soldiers ; learned of Gleason's 
 going with "Webb, and actually crossed the Platte and 
 followed on their trail, until he met him coming back 
 at the head of the little escort. Keeping his eager 
 lookout far ahead, he had easily hidden himself and his 
 horse where he could watch them as they went by, and 
 had recognized his victim, turned on his tracks, and 
 once more trailed him back ; had lost him and followed 
 the wrong " buckboard" from Fetterman, and had gone 
 towards Rock Creek before he found out that Gleason
 
 REVELATIONS. 37 J 
 
 went by way of Fort Lararaie. A countryman going 
 in to Laramie City had taken, some days previous, the 
 note with its enclosure to Ray, he could not steal, he 
 said, and at last, having recovered his horse, he returned 
 by night to Cheyenne, easily learned of Lieutenant Glea- 
 son's presence at Russell, and that very night rode out 
 across the prairie, tied his gray to a post near the north 
 east corner of the hospital enclosure, and stole to Glea- 
 son's back-yard. Not for an instant had he ever flinched 
 in his purpose. He knew the lieutenant was officer 
 of the day, and that he would be out to visit his sen 
 tries after midnight ; but it occurred to him he would 
 have no weapon but the sabre, and he meant to offer 
 him fair fight. A light was burning in the rear room. 
 He peeped through the blinds and saw him undressing 
 as though to go to bed. He could wait no longer. He 
 opened the kitchen door, which Shea had left unlocked, 
 entered the house, and rapped at Gleason's door. The 
 lieutenant supposed it to be Shea, probably, and opened 
 it himself. " Behold the man you have outraged, I 
 said. I give you one instant only to get your pistol. 
 We fight here to the death. He sprang back, still facing 
 me ; he was livid with fear ; he called for help, help ! 
 he ordered me to leave, he was a craven and would not 
 fight ; he called louder, and then I fired ; he gave a 
 scream and fell towards me on his face. I had hurled 
 my gauntlet at him as I challenged, but there was no 
 time to pick it up. I turned and fled. Some one 
 seized me at the back gate, but I hurled him aside and 
 ran on tiptoe to my horse. I heard voices coming, but 
 no one could hear me. I led my horse some distance ; 
 Mien mounted and galloped madly this way. Near
 
 372 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 town he stumbled, fell, and rolled on me, and I knew 
 no more till I heard them say he was dead and that the 
 Herr Lieutenant had killed him. Then I strove to 
 escape, and we had a fearful fight. They overcame 
 and drugged me, I think, but again I came to, and 
 begged to be let to see you. They keep me for the 
 reward, perhaps, but they see me dying, and the police 
 come at last." 
 
 In the solemn hush of the darkened room, far from 
 the land where he had been known and loved, where 
 doubtless his gifts had been valued, and his life, until 
 wrecked by that duel, was honored, the Saxon soldier 
 lay breathing his last. Mad or sane, there was no one 
 there to rightly judge. The one trait that shone to the 
 end was the strong love of the profession which he 
 could have adorned so well. His glazing eyes looked 
 wistfully into Ray's pale face ; his tremulous hand 
 sought that of the young officer, who knelt there by his 
 side ; in faint, broken accents he spoke his last earthly 
 plea: 
 
 " I was a gentleman once, Herr Lieutenant. I am 
 soldier even now. You are the soldier the men all 
 love. May I not take your hand ?"
 
 VINDICATED 373 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 VINDICATED. 
 
 LIFE at Russell had lost for the time being so much 
 of its customary gayety as to warrant Mrs. Turner's 
 discontented descriptive of "poky." With all but 
 three or four officers absent on campaign; without 
 even letters or news from them ; with Mr. Gleason's 
 tragic fate and Mr. Ray's romantic and mysterious con 
 nection therewith, there was too much of solemn and 
 shudder-inspiring element in the daily talk to render 
 conversation at all cheerful. All sorts of odd things 
 
 o 
 
 had happened since the death of that deserter, Wolf, 
 and Mrs. Turner was at her wit's end to make her con 
 clusions fit together. She had by no means ceased to 
 jump, that saltatory satisfaction at least remained to 
 her, but she missed the mark so often as to seriously 
 impair, for a while at least, her confidence in her the 
 ories, and nothing but a series of serious shocks could 
 have achieved that result. She, too, had her sorrows, 
 poor lady, for her regimental companions in number 
 eleven had shunned her society to such an extent as to 
 set the whole garrison talking about it, though it took 
 very little to accomplish that. 
 
 To begin with, Mrs. Truscott rarely went out at all, 
 and had denied herself to visitors on many occasions. 
 Mrs. Stannard and Marion were all the companions she 
 cared to see much of, though, to Mrs. Turner's incredu- 
 
 32
 
 374 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 lous wrath, Mrs. Wilkins was admitted on the very 
 days when she, herself, had called and penetrated no 
 farther than the parlor. Mrs. Wilkins had enjoyed 
 we use the term advisedly a furious quarrel with the 
 wife of the commanding officer, and had driven that 
 exemplary and forgiving woman from the field in utter 
 dismay. There had been no love lost between them 
 from the first, but Mrs. "Wilkins had hotly resented 
 Mrs. Whaling's lamentations over Ray's prospective 
 conviction and his undeniable guilt, and had given the 
 venerable black silk a dusting the very day that Ray 
 was carried off to prison. Then came the electrifying 
 intelligence that Wolfs dying confession had com 
 pletely exonerated Ray, and both Mrs. Whaling and 
 Mrs. Turner had flown to Mrs. Stannard to assure her 
 that neither one of them could have believed in his 
 guilt had it not been for the other. Mrs. Whaling 
 was positive that she had never spoken of him except 
 in the love and charity she would have used towards 
 her own son, and nothing but Mrs. Turner's accounts 
 of his wildness and dissipation would have shaken her 
 faith in him for a moment. She had always admired 
 his frank and fearless character, and so had " the gen 
 eral," who was heart-broken to think he had been so 
 outrageously imposed upon by Ray's enemies. Mrs. . 
 Turner vowed that she had really, loved Mr. Ray like 
 a brother, but that Mrs. Whaling had told her of the 
 positive evidence the general had against him, and so 
 what could she think? Mrs. Stannard listened to 
 both with uncompromising and decidedly chilling silence, 
 and each withdrew Discomfited. 
 
 Colonel Rand spent much of the morning after
 
 VINDICATED. 375 
 
 Wolf's revelation in overhauling papers with Colonel 
 "Whaling, but his visit to the ladies at number eleven 
 was of unusual length and cordiality. He left only in 
 time to see Ray and Blake a few moments in town be 
 fore taking the eastern train. It had been Mrs. Stan- 
 nard's intention to drive thither to call on Mrs. Rallston, 
 but she was too late. Mr. Green's telegraphic message 
 from Denver had warned him that Rallston was deliri 
 ous with fever, and after the rapturous interview be 
 tween brother and sister that followed upon his return 
 from Wolfs bedside, Ray had gently broken the news 
 to her of her husband's illness, and before the coming 
 of train time on the following day Rand had obtained 
 telegraphic authority for him to escort her to, and re 
 main with her in, Denver. His release by the civil 
 authorities would have had about it something of the 
 nature of an ovation, when at noon on that day the full 
 details of Wolfs confession were "spread upon the 
 records," but by ingeniously circulating the story that 
 he would return to the fort at sunset, Blake managed 
 to throw the public off the track. His arrest was sus 
 pended by the telegram from division headquarters. 
 Rand was ordered to come thither at once with his 
 documentary proofs of the falsity of the charges against 
 Ray, and the latter went quietly off to Denver with a 
 ten days' leave, conducting his sister to her husband's 
 bedside. He saw no one at Russell before going, but 
 we have reason to believe that the plethoric missive he 
 sent to Mrs. Stannard derived much of its bulk from 
 an enclosure that was not meant for her eyes at all, and 
 Blake went back to Russell to the lionizing he deserved. 
 But the gloom at the garrison was dispelled perforce
 
 376 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 by the arrival of troop after troop, company after com 
 pany, from east, west, and south, fast as cars could carry 
 them, all bound for the Black Hills to meet and sup 
 port Crook, who was reported fighting his way south 
 ward through unknown regions and unknown numbers 
 of the red men. Nothing had been heard even by tele 
 graph from the th from any source whatever since 
 the steamer came down to Bismarck with sick and 
 wounded, and the news that they had pushed out again 
 for the Little Missouri country the last of August, and 
 here it was beyond mid September. A whole regiment 
 of cavalry encamped for a day or two on the prairie, 
 then marched northward. Natty artillerymen from 
 San Francisco dropped in to pay their respects on their 
 way to "the Hills;" not a day passed without the 
 arrival of strange officers, scores of men, and squadrons 
 of horses. Russell had suddenly blossomed into first 
 rank as a great supply depot, and in all the excitement 
 of greeting the new-comers, and sending messages and 
 missives to the dear ones at the front, the pall of trag 
 edy was lifted from the post. Gleason and Wolf were, 
 alike, welluigh forgotten. 
 
 And then with sudden thrill the news tore through 
 the post, and flashed over the wires in every direction, 
 that a courier had ridden down from the northern 
 limits of the hills bringing despatches from Crook, and 
 announcing that, though half starved, ragged, and 
 practically dismounted, the followers of the Gray Fox 
 had reached the Belle Fourche, and would soon be able 
 to push on to the agencies. They had dashed upon the 
 Sioux villages at Slim Buttes, capturing hundreds of 
 their fat ponies (and greedily eating many of them that
 
 VINDICATED. 377 
 
 very night), had found the lodges crammed with the 
 spoil of the Ouster battle, had killed several warriors 
 and burned every ounce of Indian stores or provisions 
 they could not use, and had two days' ringing, spirited 
 fighting with Crazy Horse and his charging hosts 
 among the fog wreaths and dripping crags of those 
 strange, picturesque upheavals ; then burying their dead 
 and bringing away their wounded, they were once more 
 within reach of supplies, though it might be weeks 
 before they could come home. "Another battle and 
 we not there," was Blake's sympathetic despatch to 
 Ray at Denver ; but now the last seemed to be recorded. 
 Another week and letters might be expected. Another 
 fortnight and it was known that all the forces were 
 concentrating at Red Cloud to disarm the disaffected 
 bands near the agencies. And then Blake and Ray, 
 too, had both sped northward again to join their regi 
 ment. Ray's affairs had been summarily settled in 
 this wise. 
 
 Rallston's illness had been severe, and Ray and Nell 
 had been constantly at his side. When the fever broke 
 and consciousness returned, and the patient realized 
 where he was and who were his nurses, the man's re 
 morse and shame were something pitiable. Of him, 
 as an impartial historian, it is difficult to write, since 
 long association with Stannard had forcibly impressed 
 his views as to Rallston's character. Perhaps we were 
 as reluctant to hear of his subsequent behavior and to 
 believe in his contrition as Mrs. Whaling with all her 
 meek and lowly piety was to conceive of Ray's inno 
 cence of the various charges laid at his door ; but, in 
 the absence of proof to the contrary, we simply place 
 
 32*
 
 378 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 before the patient reader Nellie Ray Rallston's own 
 statement : that her husband emerged from that trying 
 illness a very different man, that he humbly begged 
 Will's forgiveness and hers, and that when he was well 
 enough to be moved home he had grown so fond of 
 Will that he could not bear to have him out of his 
 sight, and that he was rejoiced when orders came for 
 Will to go to Chicago, as it enabled him to travel with 
 them as far as Omaha. But you must remember, we 
 feel bound to say, that she was of that loyal loving 
 Kentucky nature singularly like her brother for that 
 matter that having once given itself in its entirety to 
 the service of lover or friend, is apt to stick to it through 
 thick and thin. We may be pardoned we worldlings 
 for doubting as yet the depth and sincerity of Rall 
 ston's repentance. " When the devil was ill, the devil 
 a saint would be," etc. You know the application ; 
 but, for the time being, Mrs. Rallston went home hap 
 pier than she had been for ages. 
 
 And Ray went on to division headquarters at Chicago, 
 wondering what on earth was up now. He was still 
 on leave, still clamoring to be tried, that he might be 
 cleared of those charges and allowed to rejoin his regi 
 ment. His wound had healed, though he was still thin 
 and worn, and he could not bear to think that there 
 might be any more fighting for the dear old th and he 
 not there. 
 
 But Rand had taken Rallston's letters and some 
 other papers with him to Chicago, as directed, and the 
 commanding general had seen in less than no time what 
 an outrageous case had been built up against a young 
 officer whose record up to date had been one that ap-
 
 VINDICATED. 379 
 
 pealed to all his sympathies. Ever since that daring 
 night ride Kay had been an object of the liveliest in 
 terest to the general, himself the cavalry leader par 
 excellence of his day, and when Rand laid before him 
 all the papers in the case there was an eruption that 
 made the rafters ring. 
 
 But when it came to cooling down and acting on the 
 case, much as the general might think Ray deserved a 
 triumphant vindication at the hands of a court, there 
 were a dozen things to make it impracticable. To 
 begin with, the court had been ordered before it looked 
 so black for Crook's command and the Black Hills 
 settlers, and all those infantry officers who were on the 
 original detail were now plodding up to Red Cloud. 
 The division was wellnigh stripped of everything but 
 staff-officers, and if a court did meet, what a scoring it 
 might give old Whaling and to his own staff-officer, who 
 took all that hearsay talk down around Leaven worth 
 and never gave Ray's friends a chance. It ended in 
 the general's impetuously directing that the court be 
 dissolved, and that Ray be ordered there post-haste. 
 " I'll vindicate him !" he said. 
 
 And he did. Ray's pale, anxious face turned all 
 sorts of colors when the general jumped up from his 
 chair and griped his hand like a vise, and looked into 
 his brave young eyes and said things to him that filled 
 them with tears and his soul with confusion. Ray had 
 no words, but his heart was full of a delight that none 
 but soldiers know, and the lionizing he got that day at 
 division headquarters would have spoiled many another 
 fellow. The general could, indeed, " vindicate" him. 
 He showed him the draft of the letters sent to the regi-
 
 380 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ment, and asked with a smile if he didn't think that 
 would do as well as the " not guilty" of a court ; and 
 that evening Ray took the westward train so as to stop 
 over in Omaha one night and see Nell, and then hurry 
 on by the Union Pacific to Cheyenne. His heart was 
 bounding with hope, with pride, with gratitude and 
 joy ; but through it all there was a sense of something 
 strange and new to him that tempered every feeling of 
 exultation. He had been tried as by fire, and hum 
 bled, softened, chastened by the fierceness of the flame. 
 Even bitterness and resentment seemed expelled from 
 his soul. Ray was a changed, a graver man. All that 
 was truthful, gallant, loyal in his nature was there yet, 
 but the recklessness of the past was gone. 
 
 Many letters had come to him in the few days he had 
 spent at Denver by Rallston's sick-bed, and while Mrs. 
 Stannard had frequently written to tell him how they 
 all were, and the colonel sent a courteously-worded ex 
 pression of his regret at the credence he had given to 
 the statements of a brother officer and what he termed 
 the " misunderstandings" of the summer, Ray was most 
 touched at Warner's "solid" and earnest appeal to be 
 regarded as a friend and not as one of the opposition. 
 
 He answered promptly and cordially everything Mr. 
 Warner wrote with a single exception. The young 
 adjutant was requested by Colonel Whaling to put in 
 a word or two for the Hibernian quartermaster whom 
 Blake had cut dead, and who was perturbed in spirit 
 over the prospect of being otherwise lacerated when 
 Ray got back. Warner thought that the colonel or the 
 quartermaster himself should make the proper amende 
 in this case, but the latter was a poor hand at epistolary
 
 VINDICATED. 381 
 
 expression, and the former had long been a pronounced 
 adherent of that " divine right of" commanding officers 
 which makes the adjutant the transmitter and medium 
 of all correspondence involving matters of delicate or 
 diplomatic import. If the result be successful, all 
 right. It was written by direction of Colonel So and 
 So, and is presumably his own wording. If it fail, 
 then anybody can see ' that failure is due solely to the 
 clumsy and blockheaded manipulation of the adjutant. 
 
 Mr. Warner conveyed a hope that the quartermaster 
 might be included in the general amnesty, but to this 
 Kay made no response. He drew the line at those 
 who had been unkind to Dandy. 
 
 And now he was hurrying back to Russell to con 
 duct a large body of recruits and horses up to " the 
 Hills" to meet the regiment ; and a party of young offi 
 cers had joined, many of them graduates of that very 
 year's class at the Point, young fellows whom Mrs. 
 Truscott had known well but a few months previous, 
 when they wore the gray under Jack's tuition at squad 
 ron drill and riding-hall work. Their regiments being 
 in the field on active .campaign, they abandoned much 
 of the leave of absence due them and hastened to re 
 port for duty. Their services were most needed in get 
 ting the recruits into shape, and here they were at 
 Russell enthusiastic at the prospect of seeing Captain 
 Truscott again, devoting themselves to the ladies at his 
 army home, and eager to a man to see and know Ray, 
 whose name was on every lip, whom every man of 
 them envied, and who would arrive at noon on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Mrs. Stannard's piazza was the scene of a levee this
 
 382 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 lovely, sunshiny autumn afternoon. She was there 
 with Miss Sanford and Mrs. Truscott, who was reclin 
 ing in a comfortable wicker chair, and vastly enjoying 
 the sunshine, the bracing air, and above all the merry 
 chat of these young troopers, and envying them their 
 northward march. Would they not be with Jack in a 
 fortnight ? Half a dozen of the " boys" were flocking 
 around the ladies, and Blake was there sprawling over 
 the railing as was his wont, and convulsing the assem 
 blage every now and then with his outrageous travesties 
 and declamatory outbursts. Blake was in the wildest 
 possible spirits. He was bubbling over with fun and 
 the milk of human kindness, except for that poor 
 devil of a quartermaster, at whom he scowled diaboli 
 cally whenever they met. He had forgiven Mrs. Tur 
 ner, who was quick to see where the " gang" had gath 
 ered that afternoon, and was early on hand to lure the 
 new victims. Already she was making a deep impres 
 sion on Mr. Corry, who was gazetted to her husband's 
 troop, and was fetching him farther into the meshes 
 with every glance of her eyes. And then came Mrs. 
 Whaling, whom Blake hastened to meet, and with 
 elaborate genuflexions to usher into the circle, where 
 she was speedily seated and regaling the company with 
 her views on the chances of the campaign. It being 
 the ardent desire of every cavalry lady in garrison that 
 the th should be ordered thither for winter quarters, 
 Mrs. Whaling was full of information which "the 
 general" had received from confidential sources going 
 to prove that a great infantry post was to be established 
 there, which he would command, while the cavalry re 
 mained in the Hills until spring. Blake noted the
 
 VINDICATED. 383 
 
 silence among the young officers and the anxious look 
 in Mrs. Truscott's face (Mrs. Stannard had long since 
 ceased to be influenced by Mrs. Whaling's statements), 
 and he determined on a diversion. He felt morally cer 
 tain that the only "confidential" communication the 
 veteran post commander had received from any superior 
 in a week was the stinging rap from division headquar 
 ters anent the bungle he had made in Ray's affair, and 
 on general principles he felt that he couldn't let an op 
 portunity slip. 
 
 " Oh, come now, Mrs. Whaling, don't crush all the 
 hopes we had of spending the winter with you here. 
 ' Lady, you are the cruellest she alive' if you will lead 
 us to believe such ill report, and here we were all re 
 joicing that Ray comes to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Ray, to be sure ! and how delightful it is 
 to think that he has justified all our confidence in him ! 
 He returns like a the Bayard of old ; the chevalier 
 sans peur d et " 
 
 " Sans culotte ?" suggested Blake. 
 
 " Ah, yes ; thanks ! Mr. Blake. As though I could 
 have forgotten it for a moment ! Quite like the cheva 
 lier sans peur d sans culotte. Such a knightly fellow as 
 he always was !" 
 
 " Oh, Lord, yes ! All nightly, especially when the 
 luck ran his way." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Blake, how you distort my meaning !" 
 
 " Madame, you do me wrong, notorious wrong ! I 
 did but echo the words you spake a week agone. You 
 marvel at my meaning. Nay, then, 'tis not less strange 
 and weird than the tongue in which you tell of his per 
 fections ; less bizarre, if you will have French."
 
 384 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 "Mr. Blake, you tilt at wind-mills." ("Gad! 
 that's neat !" quoth he, sotto wee.) " I never said 
 anything about a bazaar, though that reminds me that 
 every one of you gentlemen should go to town and do 
 .something for the church before you leave. The fair 
 has been going on two days now, and not one of 
 you has spent a cent there. And they so need an or 
 gan " 
 
 "Mrs. Whaling, tell them to have Jarley's wax 
 works, and you'll be Mrs. Jarley or Mrs. Partington ; 
 I'll be John or Ike, I don't care which, and their 
 fortune's made," said Blake, shaking with laughter ; so, 
 too, was Mrs. Stannard behind the palm-leaf fan which 
 concealed, at least, her face. Miss Sanford, biting her 
 lips, looked reproachfully at Blake, and Mrs. Truscott 
 hid her face in her hands. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Blake !" protested Mrs. Turner, " you 
 never have been in town to church since your coming 
 here, and it's shocking the way you officers neglect it. 
 I'm sure I've offered to drive you in with me a dozen 
 times." 
 
 " True, fair lady ; but those eminently safe animals 
 of yours take an hour to traverse the intermediate 
 league. I have to get up too early." 
 
 " But Mr. Ray went once ; though, to be sure, Miss 
 Sanford and Mrs. Stannard brought that about." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! and came home sold. He never would 
 have gone only he heard that the text was to be from 
 the Sermon on the Mount, and he thought it was some 
 new wrinkle in cavalry tactics." 
 
 " Mr. Blake, you are simply outrageous !" " Wretch !" 
 " Shocking !" and a volley of like exclamations greeted
 
 VINDICATED. 335 
 
 this outburst. Mrs. Stannard rose from her chair and 
 shook her fan at him. 
 
 " You shall not teach so irreverent a doctrine here ! 
 Mr. Ray went gladly, and was far more devout and 
 reverential in church than some of the ladies." 
 
 "Any man could be devout sitting next to Miss 
 Sanford," he persisted ; but seeing no sign of levity in 
 her face, and that her blue eyes were bent upon him 
 " in pity rather than anger," he abruptly changed his 
 tone to one of melo-dramatic gravity. 
 
 " ' Lady Clara Vere de Vere, 
 
 I cannot stand and face thy frown.' 
 
 I'm not appreciated. I must betake myself to other 
 fields. Ladies, when I get in a gale it takes some 
 thing sterner than feminine rebuke to stop me. I'll 
 away and see Mrs. Wilkins. She likes it. If aught 
 I've said to wound thee," he continued, bowing with 
 hand on his heart in front of Miss Sanford, "re 
 member, Miss De Vere, in the words of your favorite 
 Tennyson, 
 
 ' The cold upon your old stone gates, 
 Is not more lyin' to you than I.' " 
 
 " Did you ever know such a rattlepate ?" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Turner, as the long legs went striding down the 
 row, and the young officers sat gazing after him in 
 wonderment. 
 
 " Never," replied Mrs. Stannard ; " and yet he has 
 as true a heart and as tender a nature as almost any 
 man I know. There was no fun in him while Mr. 
 Ray was in trouble ; and no more devoted and loyal 
 
 "R z 33
 
 386 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 friend could he find. I like Mr. Blake, and always 
 have liked him." 
 
 But Mrs. Whaling shook her head. "No right- 
 principled young man could speak so lightly of sacred 
 things. Ah ! here conies the orderly with the mail." 
 And as she spoke the trim young soldier entered the 
 gate carrying his budget of letters. Mrs. Whaling 
 stretched forth her hand to take the packet. 
 
 " Please, ma'am," said he, " I left yours at the col 
 onel's, and my orders is not to give the others to any 
 body but them as they belongs to." 
 
 " I will distribute them here, orderly," she replied, 
 with a superior smile, " as I know all these ladies and 
 gentlemen and you do not." She was determined to 
 see who received letters and from whom, if a possible 
 thing, and she carried her point. Most of them were 
 for the officers. Nothing came as yet from the regi 
 ment. Mrs. Truscott received two or three letters from 
 the East, which were not handed her until the self-ap 
 pointed postmistress had scrutinized the superscrip 
 tions ; so, too, she inspected the bills and billets that 
 came to the young subs, and two letters for Miss San- 
 ford, one from New York, the other, addressed in a 
 bold, vigorous hand, was from Headquarters, Division 
 of the Missouri, Chicago. At this, through 
 
 " All her autumn tresses falsely brown," 
 
 she shot sidelong daggers, indeed, as she passed it with 
 significant smile. 
 
 " I thought he'd write even though to-morrow would 
 bring him here himself," she said ; and Miss Sanford 
 bit her lip and colored far more in indignation than in
 
 VINDICATED. 337 
 
 confusion ; but, rallying like the little heroine she was, 
 and bent now on baffling the schemes of the wily inter 
 loper, she quickly leaned forward and took the letter, 
 glanced brightly at Mrs. Stannard, and exclaimed, with 
 all the delight and naivete of genuine surprise, 
 
 " Why, it is for me, Mrs. Stannard ! Now you shall 
 not see a line of it, for you would not show me yours." 
 And then with provoking coolness, while Grace gasped 
 in admiration and astonishment, Marion opened and 
 read with beaming smile her letter from Ray, the 
 only one he had time to write in Chicago. 
 
 It was very brief, yet when 'twas finished she wished, 
 'with all her heart, she could escape to her own room 
 and read it once again, all by herself. It was the first 
 letter in the least like it she ever received. It made 
 her pulses bound, and it put her mettle to the test to 
 turn at once to conversation with the one youth who 
 had received no letter. It made her long for stable- 
 call to sound that she might be alone and read it again 
 and again, and yet it was very, very simple and direct. 
 The trumpets rang their signal soon enough. The 
 young cavalrymen doffed their caps and scurried away. 
 Mrs. Stannard, smiling knowingly, said she would take 
 a walk with Mrs. Turner, and then the two school 
 friends were left alone. 
 
 " Maidie, what does he say ?" 
 
 "Let me read it quietly, Grace dear. I couldnt 
 there." 
 
 She had not seen him since sending that very, very 
 outspoken letter the afternoon after he was taken to 
 Cheyenne, and the letter he had written in answer to 
 that was full of gratitude for her faith in him, full
 
 388 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 of assurance that with such words as those to cheer him 
 he would bear his further trials as became a man, but, 
 until fully vindicated of every charge, he would not 
 return to Russell and could not hope to see her ; but, 
 once freed from the odium of any and every allegation 
 affecting his integrity, he should come to thank her in 
 person for the strength and comfort her beautiful letter 
 had given him. 
 
 And now he was coming. He could not wait for 
 his own arrival, since he had to stop over one day. The 
 instant he left the colonel's presence he had asked for a 
 desk in the aide-de-camp's room, had penned a few 
 hasty lines to her first of all, had hurried with them 
 to the Rock Island Depot, only a few squares away, 
 that they might catch the mail just starting, and she 
 she who had proved so gallantly her faith in him, be 
 the first to know of his complete vindication. Ray 
 never wrote such a letter in his life before : 
 
 " Only thirty minutes before the westward mail starts, 
 and this moment I have come unnerved and weak from 
 the presence of the general with the fullest vindication 
 man could ask. In the first glow of thoughtfulness 
 my thoughts turn instantly to you. May God bless 
 you for the words that came to bless me in my darkest 
 hours ! May He teach me to show you I can never 
 tell it the infinite value of your words to me ! May 
 He so guide my future that, henceforth, my life shall 
 prove worthy the trust you placed in me ! Until it has, 
 in some measure, so redeemed the past, I may not say 
 more. Only this : you, before all the world, I desire 
 to know of my acquittal of every allegation. To-
 
 VINDICATED. 339 
 
 morrow I shall hope to see you before we march, for I 
 shall go at once to the regiment. There may be little 
 opportunity for words even if I dared trust myself to 
 speak. Last time, in laughing talk, it was agreed that 
 I should wear your colors ; but now, even your will 
 would be powerless to prevent me, for my heart and 
 soul are pledged to them forever. 
 
 " WILLIAM P. RAY." 
 
 Nor did he mean to " say more" when writing that 
 letter. He meant that she he did not care who else 
 should know that the thought of her friendship and 
 faith had been his mainstay in the troubles which had 
 so suddenly involved his life and wellnigh wrecked 
 him. He wanted her to know, and he did not care who 
 knew, that from this time forth he was her knight, 
 sworn to her service, and bound to her by a tie he 
 could not break if he would. Seldom as they had met, 
 there had been from the first a halo of romance about 
 their association, and she had come to be, even before 
 he could realize it, the one fair woman in whom was 
 centred the fealty and devotion of his loyal nature. 
 He dare not hope : he would not expect that one like 
 her could so soon, so unsought, unwooed, have learned 
 .to look upon him as anything more than a friend whose 
 loyalty to Grace, her one intimate, and whose friend 
 ship for Mrs. Stannard had conspired to make him an 
 object of interest in their daily talk. With the humility 
 of true manhood he well knew that his name, clouded 
 with the recklessness and debts of his past life, was not 
 one that he dare lay at her feet ; but this, too, he knew, 
 and knew well, and would have faced the world to own 
 
 33*
 
 390 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 it as fearlessly as he faced a foe : he loved her, and, as 
 yet, could ask nothing in return. 
 
 And yet, when Blake met him at the station next 
 day, and they drove rapidly out over the hard prairie 
 roads, and he saw again the white peaks in the south 
 and the sunlight dancing over the distant slopes, and 
 the flag waving aloft over the dingy brown buildings of 
 the post, and his heart beat with eager joy at thought 
 of seeing her again, of touching that soft white hand 
 and looking down into the depths of her clear, truthful 
 eyes, and studying the face that, lovely always, had 
 grown exquisite in beauty to him, he wondered how 
 he could meet her, how he could speak to her, and con 
 trol the longing to implore her to overlook his past 
 life with its follies and its sins, and let him prove to 
 her how strong and steadfast he could be if she would 
 but bid him hope. And then he set his teeth and 
 tossed his head, the old Ray-like gesture, and vowed 
 that without a single word of hope she should see how 
 the faith of " one fair woman" had changed his whole 
 life. He could hardly answer Blake's eager, enthusi 
 astic talk. He could hardly hear what he was saying 
 until he caught the words " To-morrow morning, four 
 hundred recruits, five hundred horses, and you go in 
 command." 
 
 So soon, then ? And yet 'twas what he had prayed 
 for. He was eager to see the dear old regiment again. 
 He knew well how many faces of officers and men 
 would light up in welcome at his coming. In all the 
 misery of the past month he had almost forgotten that 
 in July he was with them at the front. How very far 
 away that night ride seemed, the ride that Wayne's
 
 VINDICATED. 391 
 
 and Truscott's fellows at least had not forgotten ! It 
 made him think of Dandy, and he questioned eagerly 
 if Dandy were still there. 
 
 " Still there ? You bet he is, Billy ! Hogan's heart 
 will break if you don't say first thing that he looks 
 better than he ever did in his life." 
 
 " Why ! How is it that Hogan has him again ? I 
 don't understand." 
 
 " Why ? You can't go without a horse, man, and 
 as commanding officer of the whole crowd you would 
 be entitled to your choice. I thought you'd rather have 
 Dandy, and so said. You can take another if you want 
 to ; there are lots of them, and beauties. Now we're 
 to go to Mrs. Stannard's for dinner at once. Shall we 
 stop and knock off the dust ?" 
 
 They were whirling in at the fort gate, the gate 
 through which he had last driven a prisoner in the 
 grasp of the law. The broad parade was covered with 
 squads of recruits drilling busily and with knots of 
 young officers, who looked eagerly at Blake and the 
 dark-eyed young gentleman in gray by his side. Along 
 the row were many of the ladies of the garrison and 
 romping children, all of whom nodded and smiled and 
 waved their hands as they flashed by. 
 
 " Quick, Billy," said Blake, between his set teeth. 
 " Out with you and into the house, unless you want to 
 be snared by Mrs. Turner. Oh, by the Lord ! Here 
 she comes, and Mrs. Whaling, too. Scoot !" 
 
 And Eay sprang from the light wagon, and lifting 
 his hat in salute to the ladies who were hastening down 
 the walk, he darted into the house, into the cool, 
 darkened rooms which he had last seen when there was
 
 392 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 not a spark of comfort, of hope, or love in a world of 
 black despair. And now, here was Hogan, all joy 
 and welcome and delight. There lay the " swell" un 
 dress uniform, his cap and gloves and little walking 
 switch, all in readiness on the bed, and not until he 
 became accustomed to the dim light after the glare of 
 the Wyoming sun, and the mists of emotion had begun 
 to clear away, could he see that Hogan's blue-gray eyes 
 were wet, and that he was ready to break down again 
 with sheer ecstasy. Ray laughed, the real old, joyous, 
 ringing laugh again, as he gripped the faithful Irish 
 man's hand. 
 
 "Why, Hogan, old fellow. It's good to see you 
 again ; and so Dandy is here, too, is he ?" 
 
 " He is, sir, and it's he that'll be glad to have you 
 on his back again. Oh, murther ! Did the lootenant 
 tell ye how he dumped the quarthermasther in the 
 creek ? He didn't ? " 
 
 "Come, Billy. No time to lose. Mrs. Stannard's 
 waiting for you. She had early dinner, as there's to 
 be a farewell hop to-night, and I've seen the colonel 
 and you needn't report until afterwards. Come, 
 man," called Blake, hurrying in ; and so Hogan's 
 ecstasies were cut short, and in a few moments more 
 Mrs. Stannard's beaming face welcomed them at the 
 door, and both her hands were cordially clasping Ray's, 
 and yet somehow, drawing him in and passing him 
 along into the little parlor, while she herself remained 
 volubly chatting with Blake, who did not pass the 
 portals with any rapidity at all. Ray never could 
 realize, much less explain it, but in another moment he 
 was standing in the little parlor, and Marion Sanford.
 
 VINDICATED. 393 
 
 lovely in her grace and beauty, lovely in her shyly 
 welcoming smile, lovely in the soft flush that had 
 mantled her bonny face, was slowly rising from her 
 chair to welcome him. All she said was " Mr. Ray !" 
 as with trembling hands he quickly seized the cool, 
 white, plump little member that was half extended to 
 greet him, and he could not speak; he knew not 
 what to say or do ; he longed for the first time in his 
 life to kneel at a woman's feet and press her hand to 
 his lips, but that would be an unwarrantable demon 
 stration in these conventional days. He simply bowed 
 low, held it one lingering moment in both his, she 
 must have felt their eager trembling, and then, with 
 out the kiss for which his soul was longing, reluc 
 tantly let it go and looked once into her eyes. 
 
 " Miss Marion, I cannot tell you how glad I am 
 to see you !" Low-toned, heartfelt, eager, they were 
 all he dare say. He meant to be true to his resolve, 
 and to prove his worth and his gratitude by something 
 better than words. And for once at least in his gallant 
 debonair life, Ray was mute and at a loss in a woman's 
 presence. He was indeed conquered, heart and soul. 
 
 A delightful dinner they had, that little partie carree; 
 Mrs. Truscott had declined, because she said one more 
 woman would spoil it all, and she wanted to write to 
 Jack. And then Ray had to go and see the colonel 
 and have a long talk with him about the big command 
 he was to take north on the morrow, and to shake 
 hands gravely with the embarrassed veteran, and cor 
 dially and gladly with Warner, and to welcome the 
 dozen handsome, soldierly, enthusiastic young gradu 
 ates, who came in a body to call and pay their respects
 
 394 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 and tell their young commander how their recruit 
 companies were doing ; and then there were a host of 
 other affairs to attend to, and an inspection of all the 
 five hundred horses that were to bear them northward 
 in the morning, and afterwards the four hundred re 
 cruits who were to go to the cavalry regiments with 
 him. And then came retreat parade, and the solemn 
 dinner with the colonel and his amiable better half, a 
 dinner which seemed interminable, but which was as 
 much a duty as attending roll-call, and so it was late 
 when he could get into full-dress uniform and go over 
 to the hop and see her once again. Warner, lucky 
 devil, was to be her escort, and the young officers 
 would have taken every dance but for the waltz he 
 found courage to ask for at dinner. How he rebelled 
 at the idea of having to escort Mrs. Whaling ! Still, 
 it was all part of his self-imposed penance, thought he, 
 with a grave, quiet smile, as Hogan was helping him 
 to dress, and the strains of the dance music came float 
 ing witchingly over the parade. He had only time to 
 see Dandy one moment, to pet and fondle him and 
 praise his beautiful condition (to Hogan's delight), and 
 then, just as tattoo was sounding, there came into the 
 room the quartermaster's clerk with some papers for 
 his signature. 
 
 " What are these ?" he asked in surprise. " Requisi 
 tion for forage for one private horse, the property ol 
 First Lieutenant William P. Ray, th Cavalry. 
 Why, man ! T own no horse." 
 
 " Them's the quartermaster's orders, sir. Lieutenant 
 Blake got permission to buy the horse. It's Dandy, 
 sir, but he said as how it was yours, and you'd sign the
 
 VINDICATED. 395 
 
 papers directly you got back. The forage was issued 
 on that understanding." 
 
 " Shure it's all thrue, sir," said Hogan. " Dandy 
 was bought last week, sir, and I thought as how Mr. 
 Blake had told you." 
 
 Hay said no word more. His eyes were filling ; he 
 signed the papers, finished dressing in silence, escorted 
 Mrs. Whaling with entire civility, and never heard a 
 word she said though she talked volubly every inch of 
 the way ; and once at the hop-room and he could break 
 loose from Mrs. Turner, who seized him to upbraid him 
 for not stopping to speak to her, and to tell him she 
 had saved three dances expressly for him, and she had 
 such a host of things she wanted to tell him, and she 
 had been hearing such a host of things about him, etc., 
 tc., he found Blake and caught him by the sleeve. 
 
 " No dodging now, Blakey. Who bought Dandy ? 
 Who gave him to me ?" 
 
 Well dang it ! I did. Haven't I a right to ?" 
 
 " No, old man ; and, forgive my saying it, you and 
 I cannot afford such presents. What was he ap 
 praised at ?" 
 
 " Oh, they fixed it low ; because he was to be yours, 
 you know. I got him for two hundred." 
 
 " But, Blake, you hadn't ten dollars when I went 
 away. I know full well how much I owe you in this 
 matter. Bless you, old man ! But the truth now. 
 You can afford to tell me when I say I must know 
 before it comes to saying good-night to her. What 
 had Miss Sanford to do with it ?" 
 
 " Everything, Billy."
 
 396 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 
 
 SHE was talking brightly with a knot of half a 
 dozen young officers, all clamoring for " extras," when, 
 soft and sweet, the strains of " Immortellen," that love 
 liest of Gungl's waltzes, floated on the air, and Ray 
 stood there before her. 
 
 " My waltz, Miss Sanford. Can I claim you in face 
 of such an array of aspirants ?" 
 
 She rested her hand on his arm, nodding blithely to 
 the group, and calling laughingly back to them as he 
 led her away. Then she noticed how silent he was, 
 and for the first time looked up in his face. 
 
 " You have not been dancing, Mr. Ray ?" 
 
 " No, Miss Marion ; and it was a piece of selfishness 
 in me to ask this. I have not danced since coming 
 back from the Cheyenne, and yet I could not go with 
 out one. Shall we try ?" 
 
 Will he ever forget her as she looked that night ? 
 How gloriously deep and soft and tender were her eyes, 
 how wavy and rippling her hair, how exquisite the 
 delicate tints of her complexion, how rich, how lovely 
 the warmth of her parted lips ! Her dress seemed as 
 airy, as fair as her own quiet grace. For the life of him 
 he could not describe it, but it was the first time he had 
 seen her in evening attire, and Marion Sanford's neck 
 and shoulders and arms were perfect, fair and white
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 397 
 
 and round and lovelier than an angel's, thought Ray, 
 as his glowing eyes looked down in rapture upon her. 
 She had glanced up in his face as he spoke, but his 
 eyes met hers with such uncontrollable worship in their 
 gaze that she could not face them. His arm twined 
 lightly about her waist, and without a further word 
 they swung away in the long, gliding measure that 
 seemed so perfectly in accord with the spirit of the 
 dreamy music. She danced lightly as a fairy ; " guided," 
 as he would have said, " with the faintest touch of the 
 rein," and he forgot the stiffness of the wounded thigh, 
 and everything else but that, to the music of all others 
 he fancied most (surely the leader had an unusual fit 
 of inspiration that night), he was dancing at last with 
 the girl whose beauty enthralled his every sense, whose 
 loyalty to him in all his troubles had won his undying 
 gratitude, and whom he loved, humbly 'tis true, yet 
 thrill ingly, passionately. He never saw that all over 
 the ball-room curious eyes were watching eagerly. 
 Hers were downcast, while his were fixed almost in 
 adoration on her face. Sweeter, softer, dreamier rose 
 and fell the exquisite strains. "Will he ever forget the 
 " Immortellen" ? Soft ripples of her hair were drifting 
 close to his lips. Their delicate fragrance stole over his 
 senses like a spell. He felt the light pressure of her 
 tiny hand upon his arm, and envied the dead gold of 
 his shoulder-knot, when once, as they reversed and a 
 quick turn was necessary to avoid collision with a 
 bulkier couple, her flushing cheek had rested one in 
 stant upon it. He could not speak ; a lump rose in 
 his throat and his heart beat wildly. What could it 
 mean ? what could it mean ? this strange thing Blake 
 
 34
 
 398 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 had confessed to him ? She she had bought Dandy 
 to give to him ? He must find words to thank her, 
 but how could he without betraying all ? 
 
 Such silence could not last. Even in the thrilling 
 instant of an avowal the woman does not live who so 
 far forgets herself as to be insensible to the gaze of 
 lookers-on. Totally ignorant of the extent of his 
 knowledge, since she had charged Blake that it was all 
 to be kept a profound secret; thinking only of the 
 necessity of breaking that treacherous, betraying silence, 
 she summoned her courage, and, looking up one instant, 
 she made some laughing allusion to the fact that Mrs. 
 Turner would never forgive him if he left without 
 dancing with her ; and, indeed, he must dance with Miss 
 Whaling, since he had dined there that evening. 
 
 " I will try. I will do anything you ask or suggest ; 
 only, Miss Marion, we march at eight to-morrow morn 
 ing. Come with me to the gallery one minute. I must 
 speak to you." 
 
 So after all she had only precipitated matters. He 
 had ceased waltzing directly opposite one of the open 
 doors, and, without waiting for reply, with the quick 
 decision that so marked him at times, he led her, speech 
 less, from the room, snatching up a cavalry cape from 
 a chair, and this, as they stepped out on the low wooden 
 piazza, he threw over her shoulders. Several other 
 couples were promenading slowly up and down, or gaz 
 ing in at the dancers. He led her rapidly past all these 
 until they came to the end of the platform, and there, 
 with the moonlight shining full on his eager features, 
 Ray turned and faced his fate. She knew he was 
 trembling ; she knew his voice was low and broken and
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 399 
 
 husky. His words had been hardly audible to her in 
 the hop-room, but his emotion any woman could see. 
 Oh, how white and cold and still the distant mountains 
 shone in the pallid light ! Oh, how silent, peaceful, 
 deserted, the far-away slopes and ridges over the prairie ! 
 Oh, how faint and far and glimmering were the night 
 lights of the stars, dimmed into nothingness by the 
 broad, brilliant, overwhelming radiance of the Queen 
 of Heaven ! Oh, how sweet, luring, love-lighting were 
 those \\dtching waltz strains floating out upon the breath 
 less air ! Oh, how warm and close was the pressure 
 of his strong arm as it held her hand upon his beating 
 heart ! Knowing well knowing what must be com 
 ing, powerless, even if determined to check him, she 
 bowed her sweet face, and the young soldier's surging 
 love words broke, low, tremulous, but irresistible, upon 
 her listening ears. 
 
 " God knows I meant to hide as yet, until my life 
 could have shown the influence you and your blessed 
 faith have had. God knows I meant to have striven 
 to show myself worthy before coming to say what now 
 I cannot restrain ; but to-night the truth came out that 
 to you I owe my pet, my Dandy. No ; let me speak," 
 he went on, impetuously, as for one instant she raised 
 her head as though to check him; he had seized her 
 hand, too, and held it down there under the folds of 
 that happy cavalry cape. " I ask nothing. I know 
 I've no right to hope or expect anything as yet. You 
 have blessed me infinitely beyond my deserts already ; 
 but now I could not go, I could not go without giving 
 you to do with as you will the only thing on earth I 
 have to offer, my heart, Marion. Oh, my darling, my
 
 400 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 darling, don't shrink from me ! Listen, sweet one. 
 There can be no wrong, no shame in your knowing 
 that I love you, love you beyond any power of mine to 
 tell you. Were I to go now, after all you have done 
 for me, and hide all this simply because I did not and 
 could not hope you would return it, yet, I would hang 
 my head in shame. The man who loves as I do must 
 tell it, no matter what the answer be." 
 
 And then there was a moment's silence, through 
 which she could plainly hear the loud beating of his 
 heart, in which she could not find words to speak, and 
 yet there lay her hand in his, since it was powerless to 
 check him. 
 
 " Have I startled you, Marion ?" he w r hispered low. 
 " Did you not read much of this in my letter ?" 
 
 She looked bravely up in his eyes. Her own were 
 full of unshed tears. Her sweet face was lovely in the 
 pale moonlight, and as once more she saw the worship 
 in his eyes, the flush of joy, pride, of what else could 
 it be? again mantled her soft cheeks. She made no 
 effort to withdraw her hand. 
 
 " I have no right to be startled, Mr. Ray. I could 
 not but see something of this all in your letter, though 
 that might have been attributed to a very unnecessary 
 gratitude. But I would not have you think anything 
 like like this due to me because of my interest in all 
 that has taken place this summer. We all thought 
 Mrs. Stannard and Grace and I that you had been 
 most outrageously wronged, and it did seem as though 
 everything had turned against you, and I made Mr. 
 Blake buy Dandy because that seemed the only way to 
 save him, too, from being abused. I couldn't bear it.
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 401 
 
 Oh, Mr. Bay, the letter did not half prepare me for all 
 this ! I have liked you. I do like you better than any 
 man. I know," she said ; and now her swimming eyes 
 were fixed full on his, and his lips were quivering in 
 their eagerness to kiss away the tears, but he drew her 
 no closer. 
 
 " That in itself is more than I had a right to hope, 
 that in itself nerves me to tell you this. I go back to my 
 duty with a stimulus and to my temptations with a 
 safeguard I never knew before. I never have been 
 worthy your faintest thought, much less your love." 
 
 " Mr. Ray, don't say that ! I know well that no 
 man who has been such a friend of Mrs. Stannard's, 
 such a friend to Captain Truscott and Grace, could be 
 what you paint yourself. Oh, don't think don't think 
 for ah instant I undervalue the gift ; you you shall 
 not speak of yourself that way ! Do you think any 
 woman who deserves a thought could fail to glory in 
 such a name as you have won? Oh, Mr. Ray, Mr. 
 Ray, I hardly realize that it is possible that you care 
 for me ! You, so brave and loyal and daring." 
 
 His eyes were blazing with a rapture he could not 
 control. It was so infinitely sweet to hear her praise. 
 
 " You make me hope in spite of yourself, Marion," 
 he murmured, with trembling eagerness. " Oh, think ; 
 look way down into your heart, and see if you cannot 
 find one little germ of love for me, one that I may 
 teach to grow. Try, my darling, try. Ah, heaven ! 
 am I mad to-night ?" 
 
 And now her head was drooping again and her heart 
 beating. She felt that since it had come she could not 
 bid him go comfortless. 
 
 oo 34*
 
 402 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 " Only within the last day or two," she whispered, 
 " have I been thinking that that I've been wonder 
 ing how I dared write to you as I did when you were 
 in Cheyenne, wondering whether if Dandy were 
 not yours to-day I could find courage to say what I 
 did to Mr. Blake. Does that tell you anything, 
 Mr. Kay?" 
 
 " Marion ! Marion ! Oh, my darling ! let me see 
 your face." 
 
 She struggled one instant. She even hid it upon his 
 breast, and the helmet cords made their mark upon her 
 blushing forehead; but quickly he took her face be 
 tween . his strong, trembling hands, gently but firmly 
 raised it until his eyes could drink in every lovely fea 
 ture, though the fringed lids still hid from him the 
 eyes he longed to see. 
 
 " Marion, sweet one. Maidie ! with all my life and 
 strength I love you. Have you not one little word for 
 me?" 
 
 " What must I say ?" she murmured, at last, still 
 shrouding her eyes. 
 
 "Say, ' Will, I think I love you just a little.' " 
 
 No answer. Only beating hearts, only quick-drawn 
 breath, only the distant call of the sentry, " Half-past 
 eleven o'clock ;" only the dying strains of the " Immor- 
 tellen" wafting out through the open casements. 
 
 "Try, Maidie," he whispered, eagerly. "Try be 
 fore the call comes back to the guard-house. Try be 
 fore the last notes of that sweet waltz die away for good 
 and all. Try, sweet love,' Will, I think I do.' " 
 
 A moment's pause, then then 
 
 "Will, I I Tcnmo I do."
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 403 
 
 And the strong, straining arms clasped about her 
 under that blessed cavalry cape, and the bonny face 
 was hidden on his breast, and Eay's trembling lips 
 were raining passionate kisses on that softly rippling 
 bang, just as the last thrill of the " Immortellen" dreamed 
 away, and the rich, ringing, soldierly voice of the sen 
 try on number one echoed far out over the moonlit 
 prairie the soldier watch-cry, " All's well." 
 
 What a gem of a morning was the morrow when 
 they rode away northward ! After the command had 
 filed out of the garrison, led by the band on their placid 
 grays, and the ladies all along the row had waved their 
 good-byes and kissed their dainty white hands, and the 
 children had hurrahed and shouted and rushed out 
 among the horses' hoofs in their eagerness to have one 
 more farewell shake of the hand from some favorite 
 officer or man, and two or three dames and damsels 
 had stolen away to the back rooms up-stairs, Marion 
 Sanford stood with tear-dimmed eyes at the window, 
 gazing far out over the prairie at the long blue column 
 disappearing in the dust over the " divide." By her 
 side stood Grace Truscott, twining her arms around 
 that slender waist and clinging to her with a new and 
 sweeter sympathy. Who, who was the cynic that 
 wrote that even as she stood at the altar plighting her 
 troth to the husband she had chosen, no woman yet 
 forgave the man whom, having rejected, she knew to 
 have consoled himself with another? Grace never 
 for a moment admitted that Kay had been her lover 
 in Arizona; he had been devoted to her always 
 for Jack's sake; but there were those who thought
 
 404 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 that only a little encouragement would have tumbled 
 Mr. Ray over head and heels in love with her in those 
 queer old days. But all that was past. There was no 
 doubt that Mr. Ray was desperately, deeply in love 
 now, and that two women in that garrison Mrs. Stan- 
 uard and Mrs. Truscott knew it well, and rejoiced 
 that his love was requited. But, late as it was, Ray 
 had had a very happy yet earnest talk with Marion on 
 their return from the hop. He told her plainly that 
 he had a term of probation to serve, and that not until 
 he had freed himself from his burden of debt and fur 
 nished his quarters, so that he might not be utterly 
 ashamed to welcome her to such a roof as even fron 
 tier cottages afforded, he would not ask her to be his 
 wife; he would not ask her to consider herself even 
 engaged to him. He had no right, he said, to speak to 
 her of his love, much less to plead for hers ; but that was 
 irresistible, 'twas done. Long engagements are fearful 
 strains, and our social license of questionings renders 
 them wellnigh intolerable to men and women, who natu 
 rally shrink from speaking of matters which are to them 
 so sacred. Ray declared that she should not be harassed 
 by any such torturing talk and prying and questioning 
 as that which has to be undergone by almost every girl 
 whom civilized society fancies to be engaged. She 
 could never doubt him for an instant, he felt assured, 
 and he well, he couldn't begin to realize his blessed 
 fortune at all, so she must excuse his incredulity ; but 
 he declared he would leave her utterly untrammelled. 
 There should not even be an " understanding." He 
 would not ask her to accept his class-ring, all he had 
 to offer, but write to her he would. Grace and Mrs.
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 405 
 
 Stannard should know if she saw fit, and Truscott, but 
 no one else at Russell. Then, if she came to her senses 
 when she went back to New York and her friends the 
 Zabriskies in November, and met some fellow worthy 
 her acceptance, why but here a little white hand 
 was laid firmly upon his lips ; he said no more, but 
 compromised by kissing it rapturously. 
 
 But he, and Dandy, too, had come to say good-by 
 before marching, and Dandy's coat shone like silk, and 
 he arched his pretty neck and looked at her with his 
 soft brown eyes as though he wanted to tell her he 
 knew all about it, as indeed he did. Had not Hay 
 gone into the stable early that morning while he was 
 crunching his oats and whispered it all, and ever so 
 much more, into that sensitive ear ? A famous confidant 
 was Dandy on the long march that followed, for Ray 
 used to bend down on his neck and talk about her to 
 him time and again, to the wonderment of his " sub." 
 Ray breakfasted at Mrs. Stannard's the morning of the 
 start, and when he came away and it was time to mount, 
 he wore in the button-hole of his scouting-shirt a single 
 daisy Marion's own flower and a tiny speck of dark- 
 blue ribbon. The yellow facings of the cavalry were 
 linked with the Sanford blue. 
 
 And wasn't Blake in a gale that morning? Rat 
 tling with nonsense and misquotation and eagerness to 
 be off, he strode from gallery to gallery with his Mex 
 ican spurs clattering at his heels. He had bought in 
 town a little china match-safe, which he gravely pre 
 sented to Mrs. Whaling as a slight addition to the col 
 lection of what she termed her brick-a-braw. He 
 implored Mrs. Turner to sing to him just once, for
 
 406 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 singing was a doubtful accomplishment of hers, and 
 she had already good reason to know that he had para 
 phrased one of her songs, because of her defective 
 enunciation, into 
 
 ; " Some day, some day, some day 
 
 I shall meat chew," 
 
 and she never forgave ridicule. He declared he meant 
 to kiss Mrs. Wilkins good-by, and dared Mrs. Stannard 
 to come down and see him do it; but when it was 
 really time to ride to the head of his troop of recruits, 
 he bowed to Miss Sanford with a knowing look in his 
 eye, and bent low over her hand. 
 
 " ' Love sought is good, but given unsought is better ;' 
 
 and yet, fair lady, you fail to see the overpowering 
 advantages of accepting mine. In the language of 
 Schillerschoppenhausen, Ich habe geliebt und gelebt, 
 which being interpreted means, I've loved and got left. 
 Fare ye well." And away he rode, bestriding his horse 
 like a pair of bent dividers on a broad grin. 
 
 And Ray, though pale from recent illness and con 
 finement and lack of the old open air life, never had he 
 looked so full of hope and buoyancy and life as, after 
 one thrilling little squeeze of her hand, he swung into 
 saddle, doffed his broad-brimmed hat to all, and went 
 bounding away to take his place in front of the long 
 mounted line that awaited his coming. Then his voice 
 rang out clear and firm and true, and with the daisy 
 nestling in his breast he galloped to the head of cc lumn. 
 Duty, Loyalty, and Hope were leading on before.
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 407 
 
 Two long weeks of marching it took to carry them 
 to the romantic valley in the Black Hills where the 
 old th so eagerly awaited them, and meantime letters 
 were flying to and fro. Ray meant to bring his new 
 riders and new horses in perfect trim to their regiments, 
 and so made short marches and constant inspection of 
 his stock. Heavens ! what a gloom had settled over 
 the regiment that miserable day, when one of their 
 number, having ridden into Dead wood, came back with 
 a several days' old Cheyenne paper giving the fearful 
 details of Gleason's death and Ray's probable guilt. 
 It was three days more before they met the mail-stage 
 fairly laden down with bags of letters for them. Stan- 
 nard had been almost sick, Truscott sad, silent, but 
 incredulous. There had been a difference between him 
 and Billings, for the latter was inclined to believe the 
 story true, and Truscott said that he was prepared to 
 hear this from other men in the regiment but not from 
 him. Eager as lovers and husbands to get their mail, 
 every man had dropped the letter he happened to be 
 reading when young Hunter, searching a later Chey 
 enne paper, set up a whoop that made the pine-crested 
 heights echo again and again. Then waving his paper 
 and dancing like a madman, the youngster yelled at the 
 top of his voice, 
 
 " Ray's innocent ! Ray's acquitted ! 'Twos a de 
 serter, Wolf, who did it ! He's confessed. Now, Crane. 
 By heaven, swallow your words ! Wh-o-o-o-p !" 
 
 Officers and men, the whole regiment sprang to their 
 feet and came tearing to the spot, and such a scene of 
 hand-shaking and shouting and jubilee the Black Hills 
 never knew before or since. It was easy enough for the
 
 408 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 officers to hurry back to their letters from wives and 
 children or sweethearts, but for hours the men kept up 
 their hurrah ; Ray had been their hero for years, and 
 the affair of the July fight of Wayne's command had 
 simply intensified the feeling. 
 
 Naturally, the letters bearing the postmarks of latest 
 dates were those first opened. Fancy the facos of Stan- 
 nard and Truscott as they read, letter by letter, back 
 ward through that summer's record. Turner looked 
 as sad and anxious as ever ; almost the first one he 
 opened said, " If you have not already seen and read 
 those that precede this, please burn them without read 
 ing. I was mistaken ;" and Turner well knew that 
 when his wife got so far as to admit that she had been 
 mistaken, it meant that in some way she had been play 
 ing the mischief. He never read, therefore, all her 
 graphic details of Ray's mysterious flirtation with Mrs. 
 Truscott, or of the thrilling evidence in Mrs. Turner's 
 possession of his guilt. A good fellow was Turner, 
 a loyal soldier and husband, who loved his pretty and 
 capricious better half, and deserved a still better one. 
 
 That night when the first keen frosts of October 
 made the camp-fires doubly welcome, old Stannard and 
 Jack went off among the pines and built a little blaze 
 all by themselves, and there talked gravely over the 
 strange events of the summer now so fully set before 
 them in those volumes from Russell. All Wolfs wild 
 infatuation. All Gleason's cunning malice, and ah ! 
 De mortuis nil nisi bonum. May God forgive him ! 
 All Ray's loyal and devoted services, and his cruel suf 
 fering and wrongs. What wonder was it that for days 
 the regiment could talk of nothing but Ray ? What
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 409 
 
 wonder that they could not fathom the secret of the tie 
 that made Stannard and Truscott inseparable now? 
 What wonder that those two officers obtained permis 
 sion to ride forward a day's march and meet Ray and 
 his command, and that when they came upon him can 
 tering gayly up through Buffalo Gap, lie hardly knew 
 them, so gaunt, worn, and ragged were they; they 
 hardly knew him, so radiant was the halo of hope and 
 love around his once devil-may-care face ; so earnest, 
 so grave, yet so joyous had become his once flippant, 
 reckless mien. Yet, in their very greeting, Ray well 
 knew that deep and faithful as had been the old trust, 
 there was new born from the harsh ordeal of this strange, 
 sad summer a friendship firmer, deeper, than ever earthly 
 menace could shake a trust and loyalty that was reg 
 istered in heaven. Not one word for hours was inter 
 changed between Jack and Ray as to that scene in 
 which he carried to Grace the letter Gleason had stolen, 
 or found. Together, with Blake occasionally injecting 
 his rattling comments, they talked over all the sea of 
 troubles through which he had passed, and together 
 they would have mourned it all anew but for Ray. 
 
 " No, major. No, Jack. I see well that it was all 
 for the best. God knows I have been ten times re 
 warded for anything I may have suffered then. There 
 was a lesson I had to learn, and did learn : that there 
 are hundreds of people who think that when a man 
 drinks at all there is no crime that may not properly 
 bo lodged at his door. It has been a hard siege, but 
 every hour has been inestimable in result and in re 
 ward." 
 
 But before they rolled in their blankets that night 
 s 85
 
 410 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Truscott looked him in the eyes one moment, then held 
 out his hand. 
 
 " Is it necessary for me to say how I value what you 
 did and bore for Grace and me, Billy ?" 
 
 " Not a word, Jack." 
 
 Then came the march to meet the regiment, the royal, 
 ringing welcome, a day devoted to lionizing Ray, greet 
 ing the new officers, choosing horses, assigning recruits 
 to companies, and then a dash down the Cheyenne, a 
 week's ride in the glad October sunshine, and, one bril 
 liant evening as they returned, heading in toward the 
 agencies, there met them the courier with despatches and 
 letters, and Kay's heart went bounding up into his 
 throat as four dainty envelopes, all addressed in the 
 same hand, were lifted up to him as he sat on Dandy, 
 and then Jack Truscott came riding quickly to his side, 
 his eyes glowing, though wet with emotion, his lips 
 compressed, yet a world of joy and gratitude shining in 
 his face. Ray looked up eagerly, and their hands clasped. 
 
 " I have a son, Billy, and all is well, thank God !" 
 
 And then came the day when with the long skirmish 
 lines deployed, far as eye could see, the th, with the 
 comrade battalions of the other regiments that had 
 shared the rigors of the Yellowstone campaign of '76, 
 came sweeping over the open prairies from the north, 
 and whirling in ahead of' them the sullen, scowling, 
 blanketed bands of old Machpealota ; " herding" them 
 up the valley of the White River towards the agency, 
 and penning them between the glistening crags of Dan 
 cer's Butte and the barrier bluffs on the other side, 
 while MacKenzie's troopers, trim and fresh in their
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 4H 
 
 natty garrison dress, "rounded them up" from the 
 south and west, and by night the work of disarming 
 and dismounting the silent Indians was begun. New 
 forces were all there ready to take the field against the 
 hordes of Cheyennes still lurking in the mountains ; but 
 for the th the campaign of the centennial year was 
 virtually over. A few days of rest and jubilee and 
 greeting of old and new friends among the regiments 
 there assembled, and then they turned their horses' 
 heads southward, gave one backward look at the valley 
 where they turned the tables on the Cheyennes, where 
 Wayne had so nearly sacrificed his whole command, 
 where Ray had run the gauntlet of death by torture to 
 save them, where Truscott's night dash to the rescue 
 had brought him charging just in time, and over the 
 rolling prairies they marched to seek far to the south 
 their winter homes. 
 
 Thither had Ray and Truscott already gone. The 
 summer's work was done. The campaign was ended, 
 and there came by telegraph from Cheyenne a notifica 
 tion that Lieutenant Ray would be needed as a witness 
 on the trial of the owners of that gambling-den in 
 which the soldier Wolf had been done to death. The 
 " Gray Fox" was sending in his ambulance and a staff- 
 officer at that very moment. He sent for Ray to bid 
 him good-by and offer him the welcome lift. And just 
 as Truscott was writing sonie hurried lines to Grace, 
 cheering her with the news that in two weeks he could 
 reach her, the colonel laid a quiet hand upon his shoul 
 der, an unusual demonstration, and one that meant a 
 good deal, and said, " It has occurred to the general 
 that you might like to go ahead with Ray, captain ; he
 
 412 MARIONS FAITH. 
 
 appreciates the circumstances under which you hurried 
 to join us, and thinks that now Mrs. Truscott is en 
 titled to claim you, so Mr. Billings will send your 
 orders after you by mail." He did not say that he had 
 himself gone to the general to ask this indulgence for 
 Truscott, but so it happened that long before sundown 
 the three old comrades, Truscott, Ray, and Mr. Bright, 
 of the staff, were whirling ahead towards Laramie, and 
 that the precious inmates of number eleven at Russell 
 were electrified by the news that Jack and Will, 
 " Jack and Will !" would be there ten days ahead of 
 the anticipated time. 
 
 A blessed ten days they were. Grace and Baby 
 Truscott were in readiness to welcome paterfamilias 
 long before Mrs. Stannard, like sister Anne on the 
 watch-tower, reported the cloud of dust that told of 
 the coming of the Laramie stage, and when that grimy 
 vehicle finally drew up at the gate, and two eager war 
 riors sprang out (maybe there were not dozens of watch 
 ing eyes along the row !), there was Maid Marion down 
 the walk with a troop of the garrison children flocking 
 about her, and Mrs. Stannard (by special arrangement 
 and request) was awaiting them on the piazza ; and when 
 Jack, after very brief and hearty greeting, was passed 
 on into the house and up the stairs, and into the hands 
 of that awesome potentate in petticoats before whom 
 from the moment of their entry into this world of 
 troubles all men must bow in helpless submission 
 the monthly nurse, and the bronzed and bearded and 
 somewhat haggard soldier meekly surrendered himself 
 into her custody, and was ushered by her into a little 
 room, where he was bidden to make himself as civil-
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 413 
 
 ized as possible in appearance, lest his war-worn guise 
 should shock mamma and frighten baby into convul 
 sions, he obeyed in silence, nay, even with propitia 
 tory smiles and gestures. Ay, lay down your arms 
 and bend the suppliant knee, sheathe your useless 
 sword, and hush to soothing whisper the voice that 
 thundered in command a week agone ; hide away with 
 noiseless hand the heavy boot and clinking spur ; off 
 with belt and buckle and scratching shoulder-strap, and 
 don your softest dressing-gown and creakless slipper ; 
 submit to search for pins and needles you never carried ; 
 promise you will only talk just so much, and stay only 
 just so long, and will sit only just in such a place and 
 won't attempt to agitate her, " for we must still be very, 
 very careful," and at last you are admitted, and you 
 kneel by the white bed and hear the rapturous ecstasy, 
 of welcome in her faint voice, and read of her sacred 
 martyrdom in the white cheek and fragile hand, and 
 glory in the pride and joy of that wondering, wonder 
 ful mother-look in the great, deep, lustrous eyes, and 
 kiss again the warm, sweet lips that are heaven's nectar 
 to the thirst of yours ; and then and then there is re 
 vealed to you that little, wrinkled, ruddy head, all folds 
 and puckers and creases, all the redder and uglier for 
 contrast with the snowy bosom in which it twists and 
 burrows, and those expressionless, saucer-blue, liquid, 
 blinking little eyes, and tiny upturned nose, and puck 
 ering, gurgling, querulous mouth, all that is visible 
 from the folds of the white blanket worn as only In 
 dian and baby can wear one ; and you are bidden to 
 declare that he is the very, very image of you, bless 
 his honeyed lips ! and then you must take him one 
 
 35*
 
 414 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 minute, nurse must let her see Jack with his baby 
 boy in his arms ! and though fearful, you assent, and 
 with reverent, prayerful gratitude, you receive your 
 first-born to your heart, and thank God for the infinite 
 mercy that has brought her, the sweet young wife and 
 mother, through her deadly peril, and then you would 
 kiss the helpless, staring, blinking, little blanket-framed 
 face ; but at first touch of those bristling moustaches a 
 powerful spasm has convulsed the tiny features, and a 
 vehement, plaintive, wailing protest bursts from the con 
 torted lips, and then your son and heir is snatched 
 away, and you stand like convicted felon, while nursey 
 dandles and tosses and condoles and condones and cud 
 dles. " Well, well, well, did it nearly fighten its pes- 
 sus, pessus life out with its horrid, awful, uggy beard ? 
 .Well, it never, never sail aden, never! No, nursey 
 wouldn't let it." That's it, Jack ; sit down and make 
 the best of it. Your reign as lord and master is over 
 and done with. Lo ! Baby is king, and Mrs. Muggins 
 is his prime minister ! 
 
 But, down in the pretty parlor, the returning soldier 
 is still master of the situation. Thank heaven for the 
 beneficence which surrounds the birth of love with the 
 supervisory ministration of no meddling old woman ! 
 Were it otherwise, the ancient and honorable profession 
 of which Mrs. Sairy Gamp is the faithful exponent 
 would never have been called into being. Ray and 
 Mrs. Stannard were exchanging rapturous " so glad to 
 Bee you's" and shaking hands, and giving and receiving 
 news about all manner of people, while Marion San- 
 ford was still some distance " down the row" with the 
 romping group of youngsters, and chatting briskly
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 415 
 
 with Mrs. Wilkins and some of the infantry ladies for 
 all the world as though Kay were nowhere within a 
 thousand miles. She wanted to keep faith with the 
 children, she said, and they made too much noise for 
 Baby's slumbers when playing about the house. Of 
 course she looked, as did the other ladies, all eagerness 
 to see the returning officers, and was quite prepared to 
 parry all thrusts which were certain to come, all the 
 deft insinuations which people are so practised in giv 
 ing under certain suspected circumstances. Of course 
 that moonlit interview the night of the hop had been 
 seen by more than one, and told to more than a dozen, 
 though Ray had kept between her and the couples that 
 happened to be on the gallery, and so concealed the 
 sweet denouement, and his subsequent devotions that 
 night to Mrs. Turner and to Miss Whaling had com 
 pletely bewildered them. For her sake, he had writ 
 ten, the matter should be so managed as to subject her 
 to as little questioning as possible. It was already ar 
 ranged that she would be returning Eastward about the 
 time the regiment got fairly settled in winter quarters. 
 Already the infantry were packing up and shipping 
 their goods and chattels to their new posts, and it was 
 just barely possible that, with a little dissembling and 
 apparent indifference, the train of talk might be thrown 
 from the track. Mrs. Stannard's blue eyes danced 
 merrily as she welcomed Ray, and they gave one quick 
 glance towards her that he might know where " she" 
 was, and it was then arranged that he was to return to 
 the house with certain letters as soon as he could un 
 pack his valise and change his dress. By that time, 
 too, Miss Sanford was recalled by a message from
 
 416 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Grace, and so when Ray reappeared and the servant 
 ushered him into the cool, darkened little parlor, and 
 scurried away to the kitchen to exchange confidences 
 with cook, he had seen and spoken to all the ladies of 
 the regiment, and given them news of their lords, and 
 had not yet exchanged one word with the lady of his 
 love. For a moment he stood there, looking around at 
 the familiar and dainty objects in the room which ho 
 had pictured in his mind's eye a million times in that 
 brief month ; at the piano, closed and unused of late ; 
 at the pictures and statuettes, and the quaint little odds 
 and ends in the way of "what-nots," book-stands, 
 tables, and chairs ; at the broad and inviting lounge 
 with its beautiful covering and soft pillows, and the 
 bear-skin rugs at the foot ; at the rich silk and bamboo 
 screen of Japanese handiwork that kept the chilling 
 draught from the piano or work-table when the ladies 
 were there, and was big enough to form a complete en 
 closure about them, their "<corral" he had termed it, 
 and, was that her footstep on the floor above ? No ! 
 Too heavy and slow. The maid had just gone up 
 with the mail ; besides, her room Her room was now 
 on the ground-floor, off the dining-room. Why didn't 
 she come ? She must know how hard all this assumed 
 indifference was to bear. She must know how eager 
 he was to look once more into her sweet blue eyes and 
 read their shy welcome; she must know how his arms 
 longed to enfold her. His eyes were growing more ac 
 customed to the curtained light, and he could see his 
 own reflection in the mirror between the windows, and 
 noted with natural satisfaction how bronzed and " ser 
 viceable" he was looking again, and then he thought it
 
 THE COLORS ENTWINE. 417 
 
 would be a good plan to draw that screen across the 
 end of the piano and hide behind it, and watch her as 
 she came in, before rushing forth to well, wait a mo 
 ment ! Would she be quite prepared for so rapturous 
 a greeting as he longed to give her? Eyes and lips 
 and arms and breast were yearning for her, but, would 
 she not be abashed at such a demonstration ? It would 
 serve her right for keeping him waiting, and he took 
 hold of the screen to draw it towards him, and the 
 screen unaccountably resisted. He dropped on his 
 knee to loosen the foot from a supposed catch in the 
 heavy rug, and gave a stronger pull and away it came, 
 and there like Lady Teazle, only all sweet smiles 
 and welcome and blushes and shy delight, a lovely, 
 winsome picture of loving womanhood, crouched bonny 
 Maid Marion. 
 
 " Maidie ! Oh, you darling ! you delight !" And 
 his arms were about her in an instant. He sprang to 
 his feet, and, despite attempted resistance and retreat, 
 she was clasped to his heart, and held there, held there 
 close and strong : held there so firmly that she could 
 not get away, and so, in default of other hiding-place, 
 her face was buried on his breast, and well, she had 
 to put her arms somewhere. When does a woman look 
 so like a stick as when her own arms hang straight 
 down by her side while a lover's are twining about 
 her? If you need confirmation of this startling 
 theory, mademoiselle, simply take one look at that 
 otherwise delightful picture "At last Alone." Ob 
 serve the ardor of the lover-husband ; note the unre 
 sponsive droopiness of the charmingly attired bride, 
 and defend the straight-up-and-down hang of that use- 
 id
 
 418 ATA ETON'S FAITH. 
 
 less arm if you can. She might, at least, take the stiff 
 ness or limpness out of it by simply placing the little 
 hand on his shoulder, and that is just what Marion 
 did, until until he himself seized and drew it around 
 his neck. The question as to how he should greet her 
 had, somehow, solved itself. 
 
 At last he raised her head. She was indistinctly 
 murmuring something. 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Blue-Eyes ; but to whom did 
 you speak ?" 
 
 " To you ; I said that, if all the same to you, I would 
 like to look at you." 
 
 "And what did I hear you call me?" 
 
 " I said Mr. Kay." 
 
 " Mr. Ray ! Are you aware of the fact that Mr. 
 Ray is quite a thing of the past ? very, very far in the 
 past," he added, with deep and earnest feeling in place 
 of the playful tone of the previous words. " I have 
 been Ray or Mr. Ray, or Billy Ray and ' that scamp 
 Ray/ many a long year. Only one woman on earth 
 called me always by the one name I strove to teach 
 you, Maidie, and that was mother. Am I not yet 
 'Will' to you?" 
 
 A moment's silence, a moment's hesitation, and then, 
 with blushing cheeks and beaming eyes, bravely, loy 
 ally, comes the answer : " Yes ! In every thought, in 
 every moment, only it was not quite so easy to say." 
 
 " Apd now, if I forgive you, will you tell me, since 
 you have had the look you demanded, just what it was 
 you wanted to see in such a sun-tanned specimen? 
 What is there to warrant such flattering notice, Maidie 
 mine?"
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 419 
 
 She was looking up at him with such a halo of hope 
 and love and pride and trust shining about her ex 
 quisite face ; she stood there with one soft little hand 
 resting on his shoulder, while the other shyly plucked 
 at the tiny knot of dark-blue ribbon on his breast, 
 the ribbon that had fastened her daisy to his scouting- 
 shirt. He had relaxed the pressure of his arms, but 
 they still enfolded her, and he looked the picture of 
 brave young manhood blessed with the sweetest knowl 
 edge earth can give. Two big tears seemed starting 
 from the blue depths of those shining eyes. He bent 
 fondly towards her. 
 
 " What is it, sweet one ? tell me." 
 
 " I had been thinking of all you had written me of 
 your past, and of all your troubles and wrongs this 
 summer, and wondering wondering how any one 
 could think of the loyalty you had always shown to 
 those you loved, how any one could look into your 
 eyes and say you would ever disappoint my faith." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDIXG. 
 
 AND now the th were all in from the field, and the 
 wives and families of those officers who were there to 
 be stationed were arriving by every train, and the post 
 was all bustle and confusion and rejoicing. Some 
 changes had occurred, as had been predicted by the colo
 
 420 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 nel, but many of our old friends and several of later 
 date were ensconced within the homely walls, and pre 
 paring for the combined rigors and comforts of a Wy 
 oming winter in garrison. Here again were old Stan- 
 nard and his loyal, radiant wife : here were the Tur 
 ners and Raymonds and Webbs and Waynes and 
 Truscotts and Heaths and Freemans, and others of 
 whom we have not heard, and stanch old Bucketts, 
 the sorely badgered but imperturbable quartermaster, 
 and Billings, the peppery adjutant, and Mrs. Billings 
 (whom their next-door neighbor Mr. Blake epitomized 
 forthwith, to the lady's vehement indignation, as Billings 
 and Cooiugs), and Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins and the little 
 Wilkinses, and a " raft of youngsters," as the junior 
 bachelor officers were termed, and with Blake was his 
 sworn friend and ally Billy Ray, now the senior lieuten 
 ant of the regiment. Life was gayety to all but him, for 
 Marion the light of his very existence had returned to 
 the East. For ten days before the arrival of the regi 
 ment Russell was paradise. There were long, joyous, 
 exquisite interviews in the dear little parlor at the 
 Truscotts'. There were rides and drives over the 
 boundless prairie ; there were plannings and promises, 
 and I fear for once in his life Ray felt no great joy 
 in the arrival of the old regiment, for on that day 
 Major Taylor's family went East for the winter, and 
 under their escort Miss Sanford departed. Bright and 
 gay as was the winter that followed to all the ladies and 
 most of the officers, there was one fellow at least to 
 whom hops and dinners and germans had faint attrac 
 tion. Routine duty at a cavalry post soon palls on the 
 most enthusiastic. The endless round of roll-calls,
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 421 
 
 stables both morning and evening, of drills and guard- 
 mount, boards of survey and garrison courts, recitations 
 and rifle-practice, all serve to keep up constant de 
 mands on time and attention. There is just one thing 
 that will throw about them all a halo of romance and 
 interest, the presence at the garrison of the girl you 
 love ; and when such a blessing has once been enjoyed 
 and then is suddenly taken away, the utter blank is 
 beyond description. Only to a few has it happened 
 that the love of their lives has been found in garrison, 
 and only they will quite realize what life at Russell 
 became to Ray after Marion Sanford went East. He 
 had greatly changed as every one saw. Not that he 
 was less buoyant and brave, but that he was far more 
 thoughtful, grave, and earnest. He was exact and 
 punctilious in the performance of every military duty, 
 was always ready to " bear a hand" at the entertain 
 ments and parties, but the haunts where he had once 
 reigned supreme knew him no more. The post trader 
 was heard regretfully to remark that Ray wasn't half 
 the man he expected to find him, and there were rattle- 
 pates among the youngsters in the regiment to whom 
 " Ray's reformation" was a source of outspoken regret. 
 " If that's the effect of getting all over in love," said 
 Mr. Hunter, " I don't want any of it in mine." 
 
 Poker, too, languished as a popular pastime ; the de 
 mand for morning cocktails had unaccountably fallen 
 off; the bar-keeper would fall asleep at the club-room 
 from sheer lack of employment during the afternoons 
 and early evenings, for many of the married ladies had 
 brought maiden relatives as friends to spend the winter 
 ?ith them, and half a dozen new romances were start- 
 so
 
 422 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 ing ; and the colonel had his eye on some of the old 
 habitues of "the store," and Wilkins and Crane and 
 one or two other formerly reliable patrons were kept 
 too busy to spend time or money at that once seductive 
 retreat, and with the injustice of embittered human 
 nature it was their wont to ascribe it all to Ray's back 
 sliding, a matter of which that young gentleman was 
 for some time in ignorance. He spent his off-duty 
 hours in writing or reading or long chats with Trus- 
 cott and romps with Baby Jack ; he always dined with 
 them on Sunday, and was in and out between their 
 house, the Stannards', and " Saint's Rest" (as Blake had 
 named the bachelor ranch which he and Ray occupied 
 in partnership) at all hours of the day or evening ; he 
 was properly attentive at the colonel's, and called fre 
 quently upon the young ladies visiting the Waynes' and 
 Heaths' and Billings' (Mrs. Turner never would have 
 young ladies with her, they were too distracting), and 
 of course he was subjected to incessant queries about 
 Miss Sanford. It was too absurd to deny the engage 
 ment, said the garrison, for everybody knew he wrote 
 regularly and she answered. Nevertheless, Ray, Trus- 
 cott, Stannard, and, of course, Mrs. Truscott and Mrs. 
 Stannard, denied that any engagement existed. Ray 
 and Marion had quietly decided, as has been indicated, 
 that there should be none, until until he could offer 
 her a little army home. But denials only stimulated the 
 womenfolk into hazarding ingenious questions and sug 
 gestions, and the men to various conjectures more or 
 less wooden-headed. At first it was theorized that he 
 had proposed and been rejected ; that was disposed of 
 by her frequent letters. Then that " she had him on
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 423 
 
 probation/' and would marry him if he could keep 
 clear of the old temptations a year, two years or so, 
 unless some fellow came along meantime and swept 
 her off. Bets were hazarded on the different events; 
 and there was no end of talk about it, and Ray was the 
 object of much, sentimental interest among the ladies. 
 One thing, however, was clearly observable. They, the 
 ladies, with the confiding, caressing, insinuating, and de 
 licious impertinence of the sex, could and would hazard 
 their suggestions to him in person, and were laughingly 
 parried ; but if any one among the men were ass enough 
 to suppose that all the old Ray had vanished he had 
 only just to attempt to be jocularly familiar or inquisi 
 tive with him on that or a kindred subject, and get a 
 Kentucky kick, as Blake called Ray's snubs, that would 
 make him red in the face for a week. Poor Crane was 
 the victim of the final experiment, and it was his last 
 attempt to be facetious for many a weary month. It 
 was a snapping December morning, one of the Advent 
 Sundays, Truscott was officer of the day, and Ray had 
 escorted Mrs. Truscott to church in town, and it so hap 
 pened that a number of officers were in the club-room 
 (for the colonel and Billings had gone away to North 
 Platte on a court-martial, and the major did not care to 
 haul in on the reins while the chief was absent), and 
 looking out on the wintry prairie as they came driving 
 into the garrison. There was some little sly comment, 
 thoroughly good-natured, over the metamorphosis which 
 a year had made in Ray, when suddenly the door opened 
 and he bounded in. 
 
 " Give me a flask of good brandy, Muldoon ; our 
 driver is almost frozen."
 
 424 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Of course there was a ripple of laughing chaff over 
 the unchristian spirit which prompted people to search 
 the Scriptures in such ^weather and freeze the helpless 
 victims of their piety, the drivers. All this Ray 
 parried in his old jaunty way, his white teeth gleam 
 ing and his eyes twinkling with merriment over some 
 unusually good hit ; but as ill luck would have it Mr. 
 Crane had been up too late or too early or both and 
 had managed to drink more than was prudent. He 
 had always smarted under the scoring Ray had given 
 him in Arizona, and he saw, or murkily thought he saw, 
 a chance to say a stinging thing. The bar-keeper had 
 just wrapped the flask in paper and was handing it to 
 Ray, when Crane thickly began, 
 
 "Slakes a heap of difference in a man this gettin' 
 spooney, don't it ? Year ago Ray would have sneered 
 at fellow's going to church, an' now he's doin' it self. 
 Next thing, by George, he'll be havin' 'ligious scruples 
 'bout goin' Indian-fighting." 
 
 There were sharp, sudden growls of " Shut up, you 
 idiot !" " Choke him off, somebody !" but all too late. 
 Ray heard every word of it, and his eyes blazed in an 
 instant. Every man saw the coming storm, and there 
 was an awkward rising from chairs and gathering about 
 Crane as though to hustle him out of the room. For 
 a moment Ray stood there quivering with wrath, seem 
 ingly making strong effort at self-control, then, with 
 the old ring and snap to every word, he first sent the 
 bar-keeper out of the room, telling him to take the flask 
 at once to his quarters, then turned quickly on Crane, 
 who was stupidly shuffling at a pack of cards. 
 
 " This is the third time, Mr. Crane, that you have
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 425 
 
 made it necessary for me to bring you up with a round 
 turn. You intimate that a year ago I would have 
 sneered at a man's going to church. Never, sir, in my 
 whole life has man or woman, boy or girl, heard from 
 my lips one word of ridicule or disrespect for religious 
 faith or religious observances. You are in no condition 
 to-day to appreciate what I say, perhaps, so you may 
 have until to-morrow for complete apology and retrac 
 tion ; but this much you can understand, sir : if you 
 fancy for one instant that religious scruples, or any 
 other kind, will interfere with my fighting now or at 
 any time, you are most damnably mistaken, sir, as you 
 will find as soon as you are sober enough to receive a 
 message." And with that he turned and left the room. 
 The next morning Blake was out with a note, as every 
 body knew would be the result, and poor Crane tied a 
 wet towel around his head and sent for Wilkins and 
 Heath and others, and they all told him the same thing. 
 He had made an outrageous ass of himself, and had 
 best write a full apology, and he did. It was "the 
 church militant," said Blake, " that Billy joined," and 
 it was evident enough that the chip was still there on 
 Ray's shoulder. Even Marion Sanford's sunny head 
 had not displaced it. 
 
 And then came a time in the spring when Ray's let 
 ters began to be very frequent, and Rallston's big fist 
 sprawled in on all manner of envelopes from all man 
 ner of Iowa and Nebraska hotels. He was doing a 
 lively business in the horse and cattle trade again, had 
 quit gambling, said rumor, and Mrs. Rallston was with 
 him now on all his journeyings, and looking marvel 
 lously well and happy ; and along in April Blake and 
 
 36*
 
 426 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Ray were doing all they knew how, with Mrs. Stan- 
 nard's assistance, to make their quarters habitable for 
 lady's use, and Rallston and Nell came and paid them 
 a visit of an entire week, and went away enraptured 
 with the regiment. Rallston was ill at ease at first, 
 but his wife's grace and beauty, the fact that she was 
 Ray's sister, and that Mrs. Stannard and Mrs. Truscott 
 became devoted to her from the start, and that " old 
 Stannard" and Truscott took Rallston under their pro 
 tecting wings, and showed him around as though there 
 had never been a flaw in his record, all these things 
 and his natural good nature combine:! to make him 
 popular among the officers, and the night before they 
 left he had the whole crowd in at a " stag party" in 
 town, whereat there was much conviviality and good 
 feeling ; and the next thing whispered about the gar 
 rison was that Ray had " an interest in thj business," 
 for when Billings wanted a new horse, and could find 
 none just to suit him in- the stables, he sought Ray's 
 advice, as he always did in such matters (the cloud be 
 tween them had long since drifted away, but not until 
 Billings had " made a clean breast of it"), and Ray 
 told him to wait a few days and the horse to suit him 
 would be there, and he could take his own time in pay 
 ing for him, too. (He did, by the way.) And when 
 May came, and with it orders for a summer camp, 
 Ray's old troop took the field without him. Another 
 vacancy had occurred, and. Rallston sent three baskets 
 of champagne from Omaha that all might drink the 
 health of the new captain, whose troop was down the 
 road at Sidney. Verily, Fortune was smiling on the 
 gallant fellow on whom she had seemed to frown.
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 427 
 
 Even the course of true love was defying all previous 
 record, and had run with exceptional smoothness. 
 Barring the one fearful task of having to write to her 
 father, his courtship had been sweet and unimpeded as 
 all its first surroundings had been bitter. And now, 
 free, hopeful, redeemed, what was there to wait for? 
 "Why not claim his bride and a long leave of absence, 
 and take her with him to see the dear old mother in 
 Kentucky ? " The engagement is at last announced," 
 wrote Grace to Truscott, who was scouting over the 
 Big Horn, " and the wedding will be some time this 
 summer. Was it not odd that you and he should each 
 have received promotion just before marrying? Little 
 did dear Maidie and I ever dream in the old days at 
 Madame Reichard's that we were to marry captains of 
 cavalry in the same regiment. Oh, Jack ! why didn't 
 I have a military wedding? Marion says that the 
 entire community is so shocked at the idea of her ac 
 cepting an unknown army officer that she has deter 
 mined to have a brilliant aifair of it, and Mr. Sanford 
 says that she shall have everything she wants that 
 money can buy, and they say he is ' rolling in wealth' 
 now. His wife has been behaving like an angel ever 
 since Marion's return, and, much to the Zabriskies' 
 disappointment, the reception will be at the Sanfords', 
 and she will be married from there and the whole clan 
 will be gathered to see it, and there will be eight brides 
 maids, three of whom were our classmates at school, 
 and, of course, the wedding itself will be in the old 
 cathedral church, and all the officers there in full dress 
 and the band from Governor's Island. Oh, Jack ! 
 can't we' go back and do it all over again? Marioii
 
 428 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 says there is only one thing to mar her happiness : she 
 cannot have cavalry officers for groomsmen because 
 almost all Mr. Captain Ray's (there I go making 
 the same blunder that used to exasperate me so in Mrs. 
 Turner last year : she would speak of you as Mister 
 long after you were captain, only I knew she did it on 
 purpose) Captain Ray's friends are in the field and 
 cannot be spared, but Mr. Blake is to be best man, and 
 there will be plenty of other officers. Marion says that 
 at first her father looked very, very solemn at the idea 
 of her falling in love with a cavalry officer, and could 
 not be reconciled to it, but one evening he came home 
 late from New York, he had been at a dinner at the 
 Union Club, and there was introduced to General 
 
 S , who sat next him, and in some way he asked 
 
 about Mr. Ray, and the general said there wasn't a 
 braver man or finer officer in the cavalry, and spoke of 
 him in such a glowing way that Mr. Sanford came 
 home radiant. Well, excepting my Jack, the general 
 was right." And Jack's answer was that he thought 
 it would be an excellent plan for Mrs. Grace to take 
 Baby Jack and a " two months' leave," and go East 
 and exhibit her glory and delight to grandpapa and 
 grandmamma, and see Marion married. Mrs. Stan- 
 nard was to start by June 30, why not go with her ? 
 The California mining venture his old Arizona in 
 vestment would fully warrant the extravagance. 
 Many a woman will refrain from attending the gayest 
 of balls because her Strephon cannot be there, but 
 where is the woman who can resist a wedding ? Grace 
 went, as a matter of course. 
 What pen can describe the sensation that had shaken
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 429 
 
 society to its foundation when it began to leak out that 
 the lovely Miss Sanford, eldest daughter of the Honor 
 able Blank Sanford, plutocrat, was going to marry 
 an army officer ? This, then, was the reason why swains 
 from Philadelphia and New York had sighed in vain 
 all that winter. Ever since November she had been 
 the acknowledged belle, frank, joyous, radiant, gracious, 
 winning, a woman all men worshipped and all women 
 envied. "I wish I could find something in her to 
 criticise," was the despairing summary of a would-be 
 rival. " She is so courteous, so considerate, so gener 
 ous, so hopelessly regardful of everybody else's rights 
 and feelings. I don't think she's a radiant beauty. 
 You cannot but see defects in her features, but who 
 ever saw a more winning face ? I don't wonder every 
 body, old and young, is simply fascinated by her. I 
 watched her there all last evening when they had that 
 little party. She was surrounded every moment. She 
 was having the best kind of time, but her eyes were 
 everywhere watching to see that everybody was enter 
 tained, and no sooner was a woman left alone for an 
 instant than she was by her side with a gracious word 
 or a man. It is so everywhere she goes. Now, who 
 on earth can this officer be ? What's an officer like, any 
 how?" 
 
 It was no isolated opinion. Marion Sanford was a 
 marked woman in general society, a woman who reigned, 
 queenlike, over every heart ; but, among the circle of 
 her relatives, the uncles and aunts and cousins who 
 lived within the sphere of her attractions, she was held 
 to be little less than the angels. It made it all the 
 harder for Ray, since everybody was eager to see what
 
 430 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 manner of man it was that had won so peerless a pearl 
 from their midst. It was loyalty to him, pride in him, 
 love for him more than anything else, that made her 
 choose a military wedding, that all at home might see 
 something of the brighter side of army life and the so 
 cial attractions of the men who were his chosen com 
 rades. 
 
 And at last it comes : a day of cloudless sunshine, 
 of soft and balmy air, heralding a moonlit evening that 
 could have served for the Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 and inspired the melodies of Mendelssohn ; and the 
 massive walls of a great cathedral church are silvered 
 by the rays without, and pierced by the brilliant flood 
 of colored light shining from within. Carriage after 
 carriage rolls up through the dense throng of curious 
 but silent spectators and discharges its load of richly- 
 dressed occupants through the carpeted, canvas-roofed 
 lane of belted police, through the massive portals of 
 the church, past the welcoming " masters of ceremo 
 nies," two society swells, who know everybody and 
 where everybody is to be seated, and by them are 
 presented to one of half a dozen stalwart young officers 
 in all the glitter of shoulder-knots, helmet-cords, aiguil- 
 lettes, sabres, and belts, and these martial ushers re 
 ceive the wondering ladies on their arms and escort 
 them with much' ceremony to the designated pews, 
 wherein they are deposited with the precision of mili 
 tary bows, and the escort returns forthwith, clanking 
 down the aisle followed by curious eyes. Carriage after 
 carriage arrives, party after party is ushered in with 
 the same unerring ease, just as the staff-officers conduct 
 detachments to their assigned positions : no break, no
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 431 
 
 confusion ; and the good people of the peace-loving 
 metropolis, to whom army matters have long been a 
 dark and uninviting mystery, begin to admit that there 
 are some points worth noting in a military wedding. 
 And then " society" begins to recognize each other with 
 nods and smiles and fluttering fans, and to look about 
 and take mental inventory of the marvellous changes 
 in the vast interior. Verily, Marion San ford's circle 
 of friends and relatives has effected transformation here ! 
 Back of the congregation the organ-loft is concealed 
 from view by ornamental screen-work and an arbor- 
 like arrangement of vines and leaves, from which the 
 gilded pipes and gothic spires shoot up into the vaulted 
 ceiling ; but no one knows who or what may be there 
 concealed. Towards the altar the church is a bower 
 of beauty. Immediately in front of the chancel rail 
 and facing inward towards the centre aisle are the ele 
 vated seats of the choristers, with the pulpit and lec 
 tern on opposite sides and at the outer edge of the 
 choir-stalls. The pulpit and lectern themselves are a 
 creamy mass of daisies, Marion's own flower, while 
 between them stretches a light trellis-work, half con 
 cealing, half disclosing, the choir-stalls beyond, twined 
 with srnilax, and thickly studded with white roses and 
 carnations. Over the centre aisle this trellis takes the 
 form of an exquisite floral arch, spanning the steps to 
 the choir-level and the broad aisle beyond. All the 
 pillars are twined with smilax ; all the chancel rail is 
 similarly decked, while roses, carnations, and " snow 
 balls" are every where. Each side of the altar is orna 
 mented by tall pyramidal groups of palms and tropical 
 plants, while the upper portion of the church is filled
 
 432 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 here and there and everywhere with foliage and blos 
 soms. A great marriage-bell of carnations hangs over 
 the altar steps ; the altar itself is one mass of daisies ; 
 the air is heavy with perfume and now, as eight o'clock 
 approaches, rich with soft, exquisite melody that comes 
 floating from an unseen orchestra in the loft. Every 
 now and then there is unusual flutter and curiosity as 
 the ushers stride up the aisle with comrades in full uni 
 form, who, with their wives, are "army guests," and 
 they are escorted to the seats just back of the choristers, 
 among the relatives and nearest friends, where they are 
 placed half facing the crowded assemblage, and are at 
 once the object of hundreds of curious eyes. There are 
 the bald head and red face of old Colonel Pelham and 
 the majestic proportions of his much-better-half, who, 
 as scion of all the De Ruyters, is quite at home con 
 fronting the social battery ; and Mrs. Stannard with her 
 happy blue eyes and noble bearing, and Mrs. Truscott, 
 exquisitely dressed and an object of no little admiration 
 among observers of both sexes. " Old Stannard" 
 fidgets at the unaccustomed harness of full uniform, 
 and kicks impatiently at his sabre, wishing himself out 
 on the Arizona deserts again, but defiantly determined 
 to hold his own and glare the people down. Men of 
 the artillery and engineers, too, are ushered into their 
 seats, and then everybody seems to be settled ; it lacks 
 but two minutes of eight by the watch, and a military 
 wedding must be of all things on time. Suppressed 
 excitement can be heard without. The doors leading 
 into the vestibule are closed. Everybody is staring 
 back at the church entrance, and still the sacristy door 
 remains firmly shut. Surely 'tis time for the groom
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 433 
 
 and his best man to appear there ; one minute of eight 
 and no sign. Who in all that crowd could dream that 
 Ray and Blake have vainly stormed the vestry door and 
 found it locked ? By some unaccountable error the 
 sexton has barred their entrance as well as that of the 
 intrusive uninvited whom he meant to exclude. 
 
 " What on earth shall we do, Billy ?" quoth Blake. 
 " I can heave a brick through the window and crawl in 
 after it. It will ruin our uniforms, but we'll get there 
 on time." 
 
 " Back to the front !" says Ray, pardonably white 
 and tremulous. " We can scurry up the side-aisle. 
 It's our only chance now !" So back they go, and the 
 next instant the vestibule door opens just a few inches, 
 the congregation rises to a woman, and two slim-built 
 fellows in full cavalry uniform, the long yellow plumes 
 of their carried helmets floating behind them and their 
 sabres clattering, hasten up to the head of the church 
 just as the tower clock booms the first stroke of eight. 
 Organ, orchestra, and ringing voices burst into trium 
 phant melody, the vestibule doors fly open, and, headed 
 by the crucifer and his sacred emblem, the white sur- 
 pliced choristers come thronging up the centre aisle, 
 while the whole congregation turns and faces them, 
 as wedding congregations will, and the lofty rafters 
 ring with the exultant strains, 
 
 " Hark ! hark, my soul ! Angelic songs are swelling." 
 
 Slowly, reverently, they move up through the broad 
 lane, flanked by eager faces ; the choristers are followed 
 by the brilliant party of ushers, soldier and civilian, 
 T cc 37
 
 434 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 the gray-haired father and his handsome wife ; then 
 come the fair bridesmaids, two and two, all in fleecy 
 silk, and bearing dainty bouquets of daisies tied with 
 the cavalry colors, while between the last two, sister 
 and cousin, and as though led by them, veiled, and with 
 downcast eyes, a matchless picture of sweet womanly 
 grace and beauty, is Marion. 
 
 The choristers file to their places, the father with the 
 lady of his name halts at the archway, stepping to one 
 side that the ushers and bridesmaids may move on to the 
 altar, which they encircle right and left ; Hay, pale and 
 white, but with eager light in his handsome dark eyes, 
 steps quickly down, with Blake close at his heels, and 
 bowing low, meets his fair bride at the arch, then turns 
 and faces the two white-robed clergymen who come 
 forward from the chancel, leaving the venerable bishop 
 at the holy altar. The swelling hymn has ceased, and 
 in its place low, sweet, witching strains of music float 
 through the vaulted sanctuary ; a hush as of intense 
 expectation falls upon the listening throng, and the 
 deep voice of the rector is heard in the solemn opening 
 exhortation, " Reverently, discreetly, advisedly, so 
 berly, and in the fear of God." Is it fancy? or, as 
 that never-answered challenge comes : " If any man 
 3an show just cause why they may not lawfully be 
 joined together ?" does Kay throw back his head with 
 something of that same old semi-defiant gesture that as 
 much as says it wouldn't be a safe thing for any man 
 to try ? And then another voice is heard, feeble, trem 
 ulous with years, ay, with deep emotion ; it is that of 
 die revered old soldier of the Cross, whose lips long 
 years before propounded the same solemn query to her
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 435 
 
 sainted mother; who under that same roof received 
 this child, a smiling baby-girl, into the congregation 
 of Christ's flock, and signed her with the sign of the 
 cross ; who led her, a sweet maiden, to the altar there 
 beyond to renew the solemn promise and vow that was 
 there made in her name ; from whose hands she had on 
 bended knee so often received the consecrated elements ; 
 whose aging accents had trembled in grief and sympa 
 thy even as they uttered the words of solace, " Blessed 
 are the dead who die in the Lord," and whose consola 
 tion was sweetest to her in the bitter days when that 
 blessed mother died. No wonder Hay can feel that she 
 is trembling from head to foot, and that his " I will" 
 is firm and strong as he looks squarely into the eyes 
 of the venerable priest and honors him for the gather 
 ing tears he sees there; no wonder his own turn 
 proudly, fondly, down on her as her soft hand is placed 
 in his nervous palm, and Blake sets his teeth to repel 
 the gasp of delight with which he hears the clear-cut 
 enunciation of every word of his solemn troth. For 
 the life of him he cannot help thinking how many a 
 time he has heard that voice in the wild days on the 
 frontier, in Indian battle or in garrison debate, and 
 marked the same ring of determination when he was 
 deeply moved. " By gad, but he means it ! I never 
 knew him when he didn't mean every word he said !" 
 he gasps to himself. And then 'tis her turn, and 
 clear, bell-like, yet silvery soft, her sweet voice repeats 
 the trembling words of her old pastor ; and all over 
 the great church men and women hold their breath and 
 listen with eager ear; and eyes grow moist and throats 
 grow lumpy, and some who love her dearly can hardly
 
 436 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 restrain a flood of tears, for never for an instant, from 
 the first word to the last, do her eyes, glorious in their 
 trust and faith, exquisite in hope and love and tender 
 ness, falter from their fond, loyal gaze up into his. 
 There is uncontrollable recourse to handkerchiefs, a 
 rustle, and sensation throughout the crowded ranks of 
 society as the last solemn word of her troth is spoken, 
 and Blake thanks heaven that the organ tones grow per 
 ceptibly louder and more triumphant, and so does Ray, 
 who would gladly balk that awful hurdle on which so 
 many a poor fellow has floundered, " With all my 
 worldly goods I thee endow ;" but he holds gallantly 
 to the ring. He hardly knows that they are following 
 the white-robed clergy forward to the altar now, and 
 that there it is the bishop's voice that greets them ; but 
 despite the helmet and sabre that hang twixt him and 
 her he is close by her side, and ere he knows it is 
 kneeling there at the chancel rail and listening to the 
 grandest, sweetest benediction in all the eloquent ritual 
 of the church, and then and then, he has risen and is 
 gazing into the humid eyes of his wife. 
 
 Oh, with what triumph and joy the mingled tones 
 of organ and orchestra burst into the exultant music 
 of the Wedding March ! How the lights dance and 
 whirl ! how overpowering is the perfume of rose, hya 
 cinth, and carnation ! He has blindly shaken hands 
 with some one, but Marion takes his arm, and together 
 they meet the thronging sea of faces and step blithely 
 down the surpliced lane of choristers, down the arch 
 way stairs, down the broad and carpeted aisle between 
 the batteries of smiles and tears, and after them comes 
 Blake towering beside the first bridesmaid ; come all
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 437 
 
 the other damsels on the arms of their attendant cava 
 liers ; aud carriage doors are banging, and there is a 
 merry chime resounding through the moonlit street, 
 and away they drive to the handsome old home, with 
 all its windows ablaze with light, and grounds with col 
 ored lanterns ; and there in the great bay-window they 
 take their stand, with the circling ranks of lovely brides 
 maids and gallant groomsmen about them, and have 
 time to note the lavish and beautiful decorations, for 
 here, as at church, flowers are everywhere, and banks 
 of daisies with the R. S. monogram in carnations, 
 the crossed sabres of the th, cavalry guidons, and 
 the stars and stripes all tell of the work of loving 
 hands and hearts. And such a picture as she makes as 
 she stands there by his side ! When, when was Marion 
 half so lovely ? Her rippling hair, her lustrous eyes, 
 her pure complexion, her beaming, blissful smile, her 
 winsome charm of manner that none could ever quite 
 describe, none could ever imitate ! Her dress ? Must 
 I tell of that ? True, madam, I bow in all meekness. 
 No wedding description could be even tolerable, as 
 you say, that ignored the bridal toilet. "Why ! therein, 
 too, Marion shone forth in one of her quaintest, most 
 original guises. Such a struggle as she had had with 
 Madam Finnegan, that autocrat of metropolitan mo 
 distes ! " I will be no conventional bride," she de 
 clared ; orange flowers she would not wear, but her veil 
 was fastened by her own flower, exquisite daisies in 
 silver and gold filigree work ; and the dress ? Madam 
 vowed it would ruin her prestige, that it was unheard 
 of, impossible ; that no bridal dress could be made low- 
 necked and sleeveless ; but Marion well knew the beauty 
 
 37*
 
 438 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 of her neck and arms, and Ray had begged it should 
 be so. Madam protested, but in vain ; the low-cut, 
 sleeveless corsage fitted closely to the lines of the lovely 
 figure, and gleamed with pearl embroidered lace, while 
 the front of the skirt was trimmed en tablier with the 
 same, and a profusion of rich point-lace fell on either 
 side from the waist to the bottom of the skirt. Soft, 
 rich, creamy satin was the material, falling in long, 
 straight, ample folds from the waist to the end of the 
 train. Neither pearls nor diamonds would she wear. 
 Not a gem is in her ears. Her one decoration is an 
 exquisite daisy-chain or necklace, a dainty and deli 
 cate piece of handiwork in gold and silver, and this 
 is Ray's present to his bride. 
 
 Of the hundreds invited to the church, only relatives, 
 closest friends, and " the Army people" are bidden to 
 the reception at the Sanfords'. The Army represent 
 Ray's kindred, for the loving old mother had been 
 growing too feeble of late to venture on the journey, 
 and she had decided to await their coming to her at 
 Lexington; and Nellie Rallston, who longed to be 
 present, gave it up when her husband decided that his 
 business would not permit him to be so far away at 
 such a tune, but as compensation, he told her to com 
 pute every dollar she thought the journey with all in 
 cidentals would have cost them, and to double it and 
 send to Chicago for the loveliest present the money 
 would buy as her own gift to Billy's wife. As for 
 himself, he had already chosen his present, the pret 
 tiest Kentucky saddle-horse that ever woman rode. It 
 was his way of expressing his appreciation of what she 
 had done for Dandy. And so it happened that in the
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 439 
 
 big room up-stairs, where the presents are shown to the 
 limited few who are bidden to the reception, Nell's 
 beautiful bracelets are flanked by two photographs, 
 counterfeit presentments of a most shapely and know 
 ing-looking little steed, yet unnamed, with Mr. Rall- 
 ston's congratulations and best wishes. There is no 
 describing the many costly and beautiful gifts from 
 the great circle of friends, relatives, and schoolmates. 
 Papa's, too, is of eminent solidity, though flimsy paper 
 is the medium, but there are some that cannot be 
 passed over without remark. There is significance in 
 them. 
 
 One is a worn iron horseshoe, framed and set in gold, 
 backed with velvet, and surrounding an oval miniature 
 of a horse and rider ; the horse is the lithe-limbed 
 sorrel, Dandy; the rider, in the broad-brimmed hat, 
 the blue scouting-shirt, and Indian leggings, is Ray. 
 Touch a spring at the base of the frame and the front 
 flies open and reveals that this is but the enclosure, for 
 within nestles an exquisite little Swiss watch and chain 
 of daintiest workmanship, with the monogram M. S. in 
 diamonds. The horseshoe bears this inscription : " From 
 the officers and men of "Wayne's squadron, th U. S. 
 Cavalry, in grateful remembrance of a deed of heroism 
 which renders sacred to them the name of Ray." And 
 there is a letter from "Wayne, which says, " The shoe is 
 one of the four your gallant husband stripped from 
 Dandy's feet the night he braved death to bring us 
 rescue. The other three are not to be had for love or 
 money. My wife and children have one of them : the 
 two companies that composed the command have each 
 another, framed and inscribed over the first sergeant's
 
 440 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 door." (Marion had no present she was so eager every 
 one should see as this.) Then there is a wonderful clock 
 of curious workmanship with a musical chime of bells 
 that is going to prove something of a white elephant in 
 moving from one post to another out on the frontier, 
 but Marion vows it shall never be left behind. It 
 comes from the men of the captain's own troop, many 
 of whom served under him in Arizona, and there's a 
 letter signed by the whole company, from the first ser 
 geant down to Private Zwinge, in which they send their 
 loyalty and duty to the bride of the bravest officer and 
 kindest friend soldier ever had, and Marion shows this 
 to Grace with blithe, happy laughter. " Now talk to 
 me about your Jack !" she says. 
 
 Ah, well ! Smiles and tears are intermingled, as they 
 must be even in the marriage feast. There are so many 
 there to whom the bride recalls the gentle, winsome 
 mother, only, never was seen on that young mother's 
 face, even in her maiden days, such peace and joy as is 
 in the bride's to-night. There is no long lingering over 
 the reception. Society will be invited to some formal 
 affairs of that kind when the happy couple return from 
 their brief wedding-tour, and only a few magnates from 
 abroad have to be shaken hands with. The immediate 
 wedding-party are soon seated twenty of them at the 
 great table in the dining-room, while all the guests are 
 scattered about at little quartette affairs around the 
 broad halls and conservatory, and the orchestra plays 
 sweet strains from their perch on the enclosed piazza, and 
 busy waiters fly to and fro, and soon the champagne- 
 corks are popping and the rooms are ringing with mirth 
 and merriment, and Ray and Marion, seated side by side
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 441 
 
 at the head of the broad table, are bombarded with toasts 
 and congratulations, and the laughter and applause 
 grow incessant as the bridesmaids and groomsmen ex 
 change the poetic " mottos" in the favors they find at 
 their places, and no bridesmaid seems quite able to 
 properly affix the little gold sabre that is nestling in 
 the folds of her napkin : it takes a soldier's practised 
 hand to fasten them in those dainty India silks ; and 
 every groomsman swears that no one but a woman can 
 ever properly adjust the daisy, which, as a scarf-pin, is 
 his reward for the evening's services ; and some in 
 spired fellow-citizen gracefully proposes the health of 
 the hostess, and an eminent statesman present ponder 
 ously does likewise for the bride, although it was the 
 fixed determination that there should be no formal 
 speech-making ; but Mr. Sanford happily comes to the 
 rescue in a few remarks of unaccustomed humor, in 
 which he sets the room in a roar by expressing his sat 
 isfaction at having married off one encumbrance, his 
 modified rapture in the reflection that there were still 
 two or three in the way of daughters and nieces whom 
 he felt bound to similarly dispose of, his comfort in the 
 sight of half a dozen such likely young officers as those 
 present, and his hope that they wouldn't " fool away 
 their time." This dispels anything like formality, and 
 the next thing there is a health to the Army and shouts 
 for Blake. He finds his long legs slowly, and comes 
 to the scratch infinitely puzzled as to how he is to 
 worry through, but all is merriment by this time, and 
 fun and laughter reward his feeblest shots. He is 
 understood to begin somewhat as follows : 
 
 " You ought not to expect me to respond for the
 
 442 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 Army. I can't speak for the ladies thereof because they 
 never gave ine a chance to practise (oh ! slander !), and 
 I can't drink for the men because they insist on doing 
 it for themselves (another libel !). In fact, after being 
 here five days as the guest of our hospitable friends at 
 the club, I'm wondering how any one ever could see 
 anything to drink to in the army. Life there is a fear 
 ful grind. In the lofty and inspired language of Canon 
 Eangsley, if not cannon, he was at least a big guu in 
 ecclesiastical circles (oh !), it is a life in which 
 
 ' Men must shirk and women must sweep.' " 
 
 (Loud protestations.) " Indeed, if it were not for the 
 ladies God bless them ! we would have nothing but 
 fighting in the field and stagnation at home; but, 
 whenever they get to running things their way, it it is 
 just the reverse." (Shame ! No ! Wretch !) He 
 vainly strives to rally under the fire of imprecation, 
 but it is too late. The groomsmen are denouncing 
 him, as he deserves to be, as a slanderer and recreant. 
 Mr. Ferris and Mr. Waring spring to their feet to 
 implore the assembly to reject any and all such state 
 ments as the emanations of an embittered, oft-rejected, 
 and "subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man;" and poor 
 Blake, who really wanted to wind up with an apos 
 trophe to the crowning excellences of the bride, is 
 driven to cover, a victim of his vicious propensity for 
 burlesque. He has created illimitable merriment, how 
 ever, and is to be infinitely congratulated on getting 
 off so easily. And then the bride-cake is cut, and eager 
 is the excitement over the search for the prophetic ring,
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 443 
 
 and the blushing bridesmaid who gets it has plainly 
 made a deep impression on the young artilleryman who 
 is seated next her, and is accused of already wearing 
 his colors in her cheeks; and then comes the dance, 
 and the crash-covered floors are speedily alive with 
 twinkling feet, and the bride's own set in the lanciers 
 is surrounded by a throng of eager lookers-on. And 
 Ray's color has come back to his bronzed cheeks, and 
 he has looked so well, so infinitely happy, so proud and 
 radiant all the evening, and yet so grave withal, so 
 quiet and self-restrained. All men speak of the earnest 
 feeling that is evident in his acceptance of the showered 
 congratulations, and the army comrades who have been 
 long separated from him wonder at the change that has 
 come over the fellow they once called " Rattling Ray." 
 And Marion ! Heaven's blessings never lighted a 
 more exquisite face than is hers to-night ! She is 
 simply radiant, simply irresistible, for the girls hang 
 about her to repeat their congratulations again and 
 again, to win another kiss, to hear the winning, gra 
 cious accents of the voice that has so long charmed and 
 enthralled them. Old and young, rich and poor, big 
 and little, those kinsfolk, school-mates, and neighbors, 
 especially the little ones who were her scholars in the 
 Sunday-school, flock about her, watch her with fasci 
 nated eyes ; and for every one she has sweet and gra 
 cious words and beaming smiles ; she holds them to the 
 last. The children troop about her as she is led away 
 to change her bridal-dress for the journey. 'Tis ap 
 proaching midnight and the " owl tram" leaves within 
 the hour ; and they hang about the stairways waiting 
 for her reappearance, and hover in mysterious fascina-
 
 444 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 . tion about Captain Ray as he comes in his travelling 
 suit of mufti, and wonder why he should discard his 
 uniform and sword, and the carriage is now at the 
 door, and great store of rice and old slippers are got in 
 readiness, and presently down the broad stairway she 
 comes, metamorphosed as to raiment, but radiant, win 
 some as ever ; and they seize upon her and bear her off 
 bodily into the great parlor, and throng about her and 
 pull her this way, that way, every way, and kiss and 
 maul and squeeze and rumple, and never seem to ex 
 haust her infinite patience or their own extravagant 
 capacity ; but at last they begin to surge towards the 
 door- way, and the bridesmaids hover in circle for the 
 closing ceremony, and she tosses her bouquet to the 
 ceiling amid shouts and scurry, and, marvel of mar 
 vels ! it is captured by her of the rosy cheeks and 
 dancing eyes who has already secured the ring and fas 
 cinated the artilleryman, and they reach the door, and 
 Ray has squeezed out to the steps, and some of the 
 emotional cousins have retreated sobbing to deserted 
 nooks and corners about the house, and at last she comes 
 forth and springs lightly down the stairs, and the rice 
 rattles after her along the broad walk, and the grooms 
 men line the gate- way and usher her into the carriage, 
 and stand there ready to volley them with old slippers, 
 and Ray is just about springing in beside her, when 
 down comes Blake with his seven-league strides, bear 
 ing a sobbing little sunny-haired maiden of seven in 
 his arms. 
 
 " Hold on !" he shouts. " This is my little sweet 
 heart, and she shan't be left out in the cold." 
 
 And Marion leans from the carriage, and Ray stands
 
 A CAVALRY WEDDING. 445 
 
 to one side, as the weeping little one holds out her 
 arms. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Ma wion, I haven't had one kiss. They 
 all cwowded so, and I was the only one." And her sobs 
 break forth afresh. 
 
 " My own little kitten !" she cries, as the child is 
 seized and folded to her heart. " How could I have 
 come away without seeing my baby scholar ?" And the 
 mite is hugged and kissed and comforted and sent back 
 tp Blake's strong arms, rapturous because she has had 
 Queen Marion's last embrace, and then Ray springs to 
 her side and the door slams, and the horses plunge, and 
 away they drive amid a shower of blessings and old 
 slippers ; and they have gone a block before she notes 
 his silence, and, turning, sees that his eyes are closed, 
 that a tear is glistening on his bronzed cheek. 
 
 " Will, husband," she whispers, lovingly, tenderly, 
 half-reproachfully. "What is it?" And her little 
 hand steals into his. 
 
 For a moment there is no reply. His arm is quickly 
 thrown around her and she is drawn close to his breast ; 
 his lips are pressed to her forehead, but he utters no 
 word. 
 
 At last she hears the answer, 
 
 "My darling. I am wondering what I ever did to 
 deserve one moment of your love. I am wondering 
 what man could deserve you ; and, I was praying 
 God's guidance that I might never disappoint your 
 trust." 
 
 It is many a long year since that bright summer, 
 liav 
 33 
 
 Men have come and men have gone. Vows have been
 
 446 MARION'S FAITH. 
 
 made and vows and hearts together have been broken, 
 and yet, some lives, though into each " some rain must 
 fall," have been full of sunshine. 
 
 Only the other day there came Eastward a letter 
 from a proud young matron, still young despite the 
 cares incidental to the possession of a lively brood, 
 among whom there seems no higher ambition than to 
 emulate the exploits of a certain Master Sandy Ray, 
 who is in pristine knickerbockers and perennial mis 
 chief. " Jack says/' writes this proud mamma, " that 
 with all his pranks that blessed little rascal is his father 
 all over, fearless, truthful, and generous, and Captain 
 Ray fairly idolizes him. My Jack junior is a head 
 taller and nearly two years older, but the two are in 
 separable, and it is a sight to see them ( going off scout 
 ing' on their Indian ponies. As for Marion, I believe 
 she is the happiest woman in the army." 
 
 Well ! Mrs. Truscott ought to know, and this goes 
 far towards substantiation of Truscott's theory, that 
 Marion's faith was given to a man who was loyal in 
 every fibre of his being, tender as he was brave, stead 
 fast as he was loving, and he loves her as such a woman 
 deserves to be loved, tenderly, faithfully, and to 
 
 TIIE END.
 
 PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. 
 
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 UC SOUTHERN REG ONA LBRARYFAC LIT 
 
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 M33