MEDAL OF HONO 
 
 liiliiii 
 
 GENERAL CHARLES 
 
" IT WAS SHOULDER TO SHOULDER THAT DAY. IT S SIDE BY SIDE Now 
 
 Page in 
 
THE MEDAL OF 
 HONOR 
 
 A Story of Peace and War 
 
 BY 
 
 GENERAL CHARLES KING 
 
 AUTHOR OF "COMRADES IN ARMS," "A KNIGHT OF COLUMBIA," 
 
 "AN APACHE PRINCESS," "A DAUGHTER OF THE SIOUX," 
 
 "THE COLONEL S DAUGHTER," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 GEORGE GIBBS 
 
 " : : AND 
 
 E. W. DEMING 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE H. B. CLAFLIN COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS AGENTS 
 1905 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1904, 
 BY 
 
 THE HOBART COMPANY 
 
 Published March, 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 PART ONE 
 
 PAGE 
 1 
 
 Prologue: At the Point 
 
 PART Two 
 
 THE PATHS OF WAR 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Tonto Pass 21 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A Noble Rescue 3 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Only Just in Time 49 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Night Signals from the Agency 59 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 As the Major Told It 74 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A Soldier s Threat 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Medal of Honor 100 
 
 PART THREE 
 
 THE PATHS OF PEACE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 In Classic Shades. . 117 
 
 91S902 
 
CHAPTER II. PAG;: 
 
 A Cat in Strange Garret 140 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A Clash in Classics 158 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Mischief Afoot 178 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Stand to Your Guns ! " 188 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Strange Shadows by Night 200 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The Shot from the Cedars 211 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A Rumble of Thunder 221 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A Turn in the Tide 235 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Major Meets His Fate 249 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Dark s the Hour Before the Dawn " 264 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Night of Flame 273 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Confusion Worse Confounded 287 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Woman at the Bottom 296 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 As Told of the Major 307 
 
 PART FOUR 
 
 Epilogue : At the Point 325 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " IT WAS SHOULDER TO SHOULDER THAT DAY. IT S SIDE BY 
 SIDE Now" . Frontispiece 
 
 "TOGETHER HAD THEY RIDDEN EVERYDAY" . . . . 9 
 
 "CHARGING ZIGZAG UP THE SLOPE, FANE AND DOLAN IN THE 
 
 LEAD" 3* 
 
 "FANE STAGGERED INTO VIEW, BENDING ALMOST DOUBLE" . 46 
 
 " FANE WAS BACK IN A TWINKLING, His OWN FACE Now WHITE 
 
 WITH FURY" * 66 
 
 " STIRRING, SPIRITED BATTLE WITH CRAZY HORSE AND His BANDS" 342 
 
PART I 
 PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 
 
 IT was nearly time for parade. The drum major in 
 his tall lynx-skin shako was already marshaling the 
 band in the hollow north of Trophy Point, prepara 
 tory to the march over to camp. The sun had sunk 
 behind the westward heights, but was still glinting from 
 cornice and window among the scattered summer home 
 steads across the Hudson and taking a last peep through 
 the rift of Washington s Valley. Even the snowy tents 
 of the battalion, pitched at the eastward verge of the 
 " cavalry plain," were deep in shadow, though the whis 
 pering crests of the leafy square that hemmed the little 
 white city, as well as the dense cluster in the heart of 
 old Fort Clinton, were all agleam in the golden light. 
 The pathway from the south porch of the hotel, leading 
 straight away through the hedge to the " visitors tent," 
 was dotted by little groups of men and women sauntering 
 campward for the closing ceremony of the day, yet here, 
 perched on the piazzas commanding good views of the 
 broad thoroughfare from the south, straight as a die from 
 the grim " old Academic," and the curving road from the 
 west skirting the northward edge of the plateau here 
 
 3 
 
4 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 along .the railing l-n^rcd little bevies of bright-eyed, 
 excited gM.s,. chattering in hushed yet eager tones, 
 dressed in- dainty Summer toilets, ready even at this early 
 hour for the hop, scheduled to begin, temps militaire, at 
 eight o clock, and to close abruptly at beat of drum, one 
 hundred and ten minutes thereafter. They counted their 
 pleasuring almost in seconds, a generation ago at the 
 Point. 
 
 It was high time these fair vedettes should be at their 
 customary seats under the trees behind the guard tents, 
 unless prepared to see them occupied by aliens from 
 Cozzens and " the Falls." Cadet beaux by the dozen, 
 but lately in evidence, had scampered to join their com 
 panies, the last loiterers just skipping down the steps 
 after laughing, lingering adieux two First Classmen 
 who, being merely high privates, had not to wind them 
 selves into their sashes, but could don dress hat, belts 
 and gloves in twenty seconds. Something it must be of 
 unusual import still held so many damsels at the hotel 
 when, all other things being as usual, they should be 
 among the spectators at camp. " What can have hap 
 pened? " " She s got to dress for the hop! " " He s got 
 to inspect his company ! " " And there comes the band 
 now ! " These fragmentary excerpts from the remarks 
 that flew from lip to lip will perhaps furnish the clue 
 to the situation. " It was five when they rode away, and 
 now it s nearly seven ! And there s the drum ! " observed 
 Miss Felton, wide-eyed and fluttering. 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 5 
 
 " And here they come ! " suddenly announced a less 
 imaginative maiden, drawing instantly an eager flock to 
 peer in the direction indicated by her outstretched hand. 
 At swift canter, through the grand old elms at Trophy 
 Point, the riders came. At swift canter they emerged 
 from the twilight of the grove and the screen of waiting 
 carriages, darting into view with a little cloud of dust 
 like the tail of a comet following in their wake. Nearing 
 the hedge they gradually reined in to a decorous trot, 
 then to a walk as they passed beneath the battery of 
 searching glances along the railing. " I declare, every 
 girl at the Point is on watch. Look ! " she had murmured 
 as they neared the hedge, and he, who had had no eyes ex 
 cept for her, looked, saw, flushed a bit, but all the more 
 determinedly resumed his earnest words. He only tipped 
 his jaunty forage-cap impersonally to the line of archly 
 uplifted eyebrows, the pretty, questioning, quizzical faces 
 she had greeted with laughing ease and grace. " West 
 Point beauty en brochette," he whispered as he sprang 
 from his horse, turned him loose to be gathered in by the 
 impassive orderly in waiting, and stepped quickly to her 
 side as she threw her knee from the pommel and turned, 
 lightly touching his shoulders as she swayed forward to 
 meet his uplifted hands. Quick, deft, and firm he swung 
 her to the foot of the steps. There, one instant, her 
 graceful head was inclined to his as in parting he mur 
 mured a word or two. There was a rather lingering 
 handclasp, as all the girls, or almost all, on the south 
 
6 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 piazza saw at the time, and all on both piazzas heard of 
 it before parade was over. Then, barely touching the 
 stirrup, the young officer in the natty shell jacket worn 
 at the time by our cavalry and light artillery sprang 
 into saddle again and shot away through the east gate 
 and round Fort Clinton out of sight. The girl came 
 quietly up the steps, her stylish riding habit lifted clear 
 of the slender bottines, nodded again gayly to the groups 
 along the rail, but instantly joined an elderly, richly 
 dressed woman who stood at the entrance to the hall. 
 " Your father has been waiting ever since the Powell 
 came," they heard her say, reproachfully, and together 
 the mother and daughter passed from view. 
 
 There was silence a moment, then up spake the Dragon 
 of the day (Rest her soul, she is long since gathered to 
 her reward) : " Well, young women, if Senator Betts ex 
 pects to marry Ethel Hoyt he d better drop Wall Street 
 and dwell at West Point. Now I m going to supper." 
 
 They had been almost inseparable since her coming to 
 the Point, ten days before. It was her first visit. She 
 had spent much of the four previous years abroad; had 
 been educated in music and the languages mainly in 
 Dresden and Paris. Her French was something beauti 
 ful, said the girls, though they were not so sure of her 
 figure; the average woman finding it easier, somehow, to 
 concede to a possible rival intellectual rather than physi 
 cal charms. 
 
 She was an only daughter and, in a way, a 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 7 
 
 family fetich. The Dragon could tell all about her, acid 
 did, and what she told was not all either true or pleasant, 
 but none the less interesting. The father was senior 
 partner in the well-known and largely advertised firm 
 of Hoyt, Harriman & Company, in which company Homer 
 Betts of the Manhattan Club, State senator on the shady 
 side of forty and politics was believed to be a sleeping 
 partner and a wakeful power behind the throne. Well 
 preserved as the senator looked, he had " gone the pace," 
 said clubmates, and had a shady side to something be 
 sides his years and affiliations. But he had that which 
 covers a multitude of sins, yet is not charity. He had 
 gone to Carlsbad the autumn before, and later, when 
 restored to apparent health, to Paris. When he went it 
 was said that his liver was touched; when he came it 
 was only his heart. There could be no mistaking the 
 ardor of his admiration for Ethel Hoyt, just through with 
 her tutelage and ready to blossom out in metropolitan 
 society. He went over again in the late winter. He 
 came home with them, paterfamilias being too busy at 
 his desk, in the spring. He had encouraged one of the 
 sons, her brothers, in his aspirations to the heart and 
 hand of a charming girl who unhappily preferred an 
 other, and the young man went to China and a minor 
 consulate. He had seconded the second son, who longed 
 to be a soldier, in his designs on West Point, where he 
 was now, at twenty-two, a "turn back" to the Third 
 Class, though claiming Second Class privileges. He had 
 
8 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 sought, said Betts, to make a man of the third son, whom 
 he had succeeded in embroiling with his father to the 
 end that there was a violent row, money matters at the 
 bottom, winding up with the boy s accusing the family 
 friend of false pretenses, refusing to apologize and mend 
 his ways, and finally quitting the parental roof, he said, 
 forever. It was a sore topic. Fred, the youth in question, 
 had a warm heart as well as a hot head, and the mother 
 brooded over the sorrowful breach and prayed night and 
 day for his safe and speedy return. Father and family 
 friend both held that he must soon weary of working 
 for a livelihood, they knew not where. Father and friend 
 predicted his early restoration to home and common 
 sense, but he neither came nor communicated with them. 
 It was telling on the mother. It was a secret torment to 
 the father. It was a sorrow to sweet, winsome Ethel, 
 now entering her nineteenth year, though she had seen 
 her brother only at rare intervals during the four years 
 of her foreign studies. 
 
 Still it was not a matter she cared to talk of the 
 Dragon did that, with emendations of her own neither 
 was Miss Hoyt in the least degree confidential or com 
 municative on the subject of that alleged engagement to 
 Senator Betts, " more than twice her years," etc., but by 
 no means an easy winner. Baskets of delicious fruit, 
 boxes of Maillard s dainties, and "stacks" of superb 
 roses came to her by almost every trip of the Mary 
 Powell, but only once, over Sunday, had the munificent 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 9 
 
 donor appeared at the Point, and speedily left, supremely 
 disgusted with a hotel that sold nothing stronger than 
 small beer, and had not a room with a bath. Moreover, 
 it had rained all day. Miss Hoyt had insisted on going 
 to morning church at the cadet chapel, also to afternoon 
 service (Brother Jim sang in the choir he could sing), 
 and during the dripping evening both parlors and piazzas 
 swarmed with cadets until tattoo, and were infested with 
 stripling officers later. Betts, in spite of the wet, spent 
 the dryest night of his life, and blasphemed the Point, 
 the Corps, and the Army until all was blue. For a suc 
 cessful wooer he looked the most disgusted of men as he 
 drove away in the early bus. (Many a girl was up to 
 see him off, but not the one either he, or they, expected). 
 That visit really revealed nothing, and Miss Hoyt was 
 as unsatisfactory as the visit. Peaches, pralines, marrons 
 glacees, even roses she would share with some of the 
 girls, but confidences with none. At the end of the tenth 
 day Cadet Jim Hoyt s lovely sister was still a mystery, 
 a Sphinx, to the other girls, a belle among her brother s 
 comrades, and an object of the undivided attentions of 
 Lieutenant Ronald Fane, th Cavalry, instructor in 
 tactics and horsemanship, a soldier of good repute, and a 
 son of a soldier, but without a surplus cent to his name. 
 Together had they danced at every hop, together had 
 they ridden every day since the Sunday of Betts s unhappy 
 visit. She had sent for her habit and horse at Fane s 
 request, and now this exquisite Friday evening they had 
 
10 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 dared to come home late for parade, so to speak, keeping 
 a dozen damsels and one world-weary, hungry man long 
 waiting. 
 
 Now, every woman at the Point could see that Mr. 
 Fane was deeply smitten with Ethel Hoyt. Every woman 
 could see that she liked him well. He had not been too 
 assiduous a society man before her coming. He gave 
 much time to exercise. He had a wherry, and rowed well 
 for a soldier. He had a capital horse, and spent hours 
 in the saddle. He and a classmate of the Engineers had 
 taken many a lesson from expert hands and were accus 
 tomed to put on the gloves and pummel each other every 
 morning as preliminary to bath and breakfast. Fane 
 did not read much. He was no match for his sparring 
 partner in books or brains: he was rather a light-weight 
 in science: he was, moreover, rather below the standard 
 in stature, but he was quick as a cat, supple, sinewy, 
 trim built, and soldierly, a wholesome fellow in every 
 sense, clean in thought, square in act and word, and 
 chiefly reprehensible in being poor in purse and all too 
 quick in temper. Indeed, it was because of this frailty 
 he gave so much time to the gloves. Thomas Hughes 
 and other shining lights of his schoolboy days had said 
 there was no such training for hand and eye, wind and 
 temper, and life with Fane had much of self training, 
 self watchfulness. 
 
 And this exquisite evening in mid- July he had gal 
 loped back to camp ; inspected, while still in riding dress, 
 
TOGETHER HAD THEY RIDDEN EVERY DAY 
 

PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 11 
 
 the tents of his cadet company; hurried though his tub 
 and toilet with heart alive with a thrilling sense of hope 
 and exultation. He was late, and but few people were 
 still in the dining room when he reached the hotel, then 
 the summer mess room of the bachelor officers. All of 
 the girls, and most of the matrons, apparently, had 
 already gone to the hop. His name was on her card for 
 the seventh and twelfth dances. There was therefore 
 ample time. He had glanced, the moment he entered, 
 toward the seats assigned Mrs. and Miss Hoyt it had 
 become an unconscious habit but they were vacant. 
 He had passed two or three groups of middle-aged and 
 elderly civilians, prosperous looking men of affairs, and 
 exchanged civil greetings with a few among their num 
 ber whom he knew. He had noted that as one of the 
 party called him by name another in expansive white 
 waistcoat, gray whiskers and Tweeds, turned quickly and 
 looked upon him with obvious curiosity or interest, an 
 unusual symptom among these money magnates of the 
 world. 
 
 He found the officers table deserted except for one 
 man, Furlong of the Artillery, who nodded with the 
 exaggerated indifference of manner acquired as the result 
 of six weeks study in England. Fane was too glad- 
 hearted to be captious, and so spoke cheerily, it being 
 the theory in the Mess that the better Furlong liked a 
 man the less he showed it. Presently Furlong arose, 
 thrust his thumbs beneath the skirts of the single- 
 
12 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 breasted frock, the uniform of the time, and sauntered 
 over. 
 
 " Dahncing f night? " he asked. 
 
 Fane nodded over his iced tea. 
 
 " Rahtha wahm f r ex cise, don t you think ? " 
 
 " Don t mind it," answered the trooper, serenely con 
 tent. 
 
 "Does depend a lot on who s the girl," admitted Mr. 
 Furlong tentatively. 
 
 Fane thought so too, but said nothing confirmatory. 
 
 " Miss er Hoyt, I understand," pursued Furlong 
 reflectively, " isn t going." 
 
 " She was, when I left her an hour ago," and now 
 Fane, with interest, was studying his comrade s face. 
 
 " Fact, I believe. Papa s up from town in a pet about 
 something. Heard old Scrooge there say Western 
 Union and others had gone against him to the tune of 
 two hundred thousand. Fancy having two hundred 
 thousand to lose ! " 
 
 " Still I m unable to see why Miss Hoyt shouldn t go 
 to the hop," pursued Fane, intent on the main issue. 
 
 " Oh, well, as to that I understood there was a row of 
 some kind. Miss Hoyt seems to have gone to her 
 room." 
 
 " They generally do, don t they, getting ready for a 
 hop?" 
 
 Furlong allowed that might be so, but had other facts 
 in reserve. 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 13 
 
 " I ran cross them on the back piazza looked like 
 family jar: papa in temper; daughter in tears." Then, 
 suddenly dropping the airy tone he so much affected, 
 Furlong came down to himself, and from that positive 
 plane spoke to the point. " And, Fane, old fellow, don t 
 take it amiss. You know I m your friend. I think it s 
 about you, and you ought to know it. I reckon old Betts 
 has been blabbing." 
 
 " Why should he ? " asked Fane, toying with a tea 
 spoon. 
 
 " Because they say she s engaged to him that big cit 
 that was here Sunday old enough to be her father. 
 It s something I ought to have told you before, I think." 
 
 Fane sat looking beyond his friend and informant, his 
 eyes fixed on the doorway to the hall. He was crum 
 bling some bread in his nervous fingers. He seemed wait 
 ing to hear more, but no more came. His face had lost 
 much of the radiance that was there when he entered. 
 Presently, without looking up, he said, " Sit down here a 
 moment," and Furlong obeyed. " Now, tell me who 
 told you?" 
 
 " Mrs. Hegeman, to begin with." 
 
 Fane smiled. "The Dragon? Yes, she d be apt to." 
 
 " Three or four girls, and Mrs. Warren," pursued Fur 
 long. 
 
 Fane looked up quickly. " Did Mrs. Warren say she 
 knew it to be so ? " 
 
 Furlong hesitated. He was one of the school that 
 
14 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 taught the doctrine : " Don t tell all you know, but know 
 all you tell." He believed his informant told truth, and 
 he saw that Fane did not believe. Now, Mrs. Warren 
 was a woman in whom they both believed. The others 
 might have spoken, one from knowledge, the others from 
 hearsay. When Mrs. Warren spoke it was time to 
 listen. Fane was slowly rising. A middle-aged civilian 
 in gray Tweeds and sidewhiskers and expansive white 
 waistcoat had stopped at the doorway directly opposite 
 and was staring straight at the two comrades as though 
 half minded to enter and address them. Fane s face was 
 certainly paling, but his eyes were fixed upon the hesi 
 tating stranger, even as in low tone he queried, " Is 
 this Mr. Hoyt?" Furlong, half turning, nodded. The 
 civilian, seeing himself observed, felt the awkwardness of 
 the situation, entered, and approached them. Fane was 
 on his feet and facing him as he reached their end of 
 the table. 
 
 " Excuse me, gentlemen, for seeming to stare. This 
 is Mr. Fane, I believe. My name is Hoyt." The soldier 
 bowed solemnly, as soldiers will. " My wife has spoken 
 of you frequently. I er gathered you were to escort 
 my daughter to-night and thought you she had gone." 
 
 " I have not the pleasure," answered Fane, a trifle 
 stiffly. " Miss Hoyt s escort is Mr. McNeil. Yonder he 
 stands in the hall, sir." 
 
 Mr. McNeil, a cadet captain, indeed appeared zi the 
 moment, an open note in his hand, a look of perplexity 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 15 
 
 and not of pleasure on his face. A sudden impulse took 
 Fane to the door. " Pardon me, Mr. McNeil," said he, 
 " I have just heard that Miss Hoyt was not going to the 
 hop " 
 
 " It s what she says here, sir," answered the cadet, 
 mechanically standing attention, but looking- at his young 
 superior with eyes that asked for sympathy. " She 
 
 says " and here he read, " Make my apologies to 
 
 Mr. Fane and your friends who were so kind as to place 
 their names on my card. Mother is far from well, and I 
 cannot leave her." 
 
 It was then that the savoir faire of the Artillery told. 
 " Fane," said Furlong, " I have suggested to Mr. Hoyt 
 that a mint julep at the Mess might be more palatable 
 than Bass up here. We are going ahead." So saying 
 he led his willing captive to the south door, and Fane 
 was presently left to his reflections. Without her the 
 dance had lost its attraction. He was strangely dis 
 turbed by Furlong s tidings. The hall and north piazza. 
 were now deserted. Almost everyone had gone to the 
 hop. The soft music of the opening waltz came floating 
 through the still air. Darkness had settled over the 
 scene. The grand northward reach of the Hudson lay 
 far beneath, its mirror surface already sprinkled with 
 stars. Hastily he penciled a few words on a card and 
 sent it by a bellboy to her room, then went forth into 
 the night and stood where he could watch her windows, 
 and stood there long. It was nearly nine o clock when 
 
16 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 suddenly the shade was drawn and a slender figure for 
 a moment appeared. When again he reached the north 
 piazza the figure was there, alone, leaning at the railing 
 and looking out over the silent beauty of the night. She 
 knew his step, and turned to meet him. 
 
 " Thank you for your sympathy," she frankly began, 
 extending a slender hand that he would have been glad 
 to hold in his had she not almost instantly withdrawn it. 
 " Mother is better, but was and is miserable and upset. 
 I dare say you have heard ? " and her eyes sought his 
 face. 
 
 " Miss Ethel, I have heard something that " he had 
 
 begun impulsively, but hesitated. Then with sudden 
 resolution leaned toward her. " I ask you to tell me, 
 now, are you engaged to Senator Betts? " 
 
 She looked him full in the face, neither startled nor 
 surprised. " That was not what I thought you had 
 heard to-night. The other is far more serious." 
 
 "This is serious enough. Is it true?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Fane. It is not." 
 
 " One more question," he persisted, an eager, almost 
 imploring look in his young face. 
 
 " Lieutenant Fane ! Telegram for Lieutenant Fane ! " 
 loudly droned a cub of a bellboy, stumbling out upon 
 the piazza and coming suddenly upon them. Fane took 
 it and turned again to the girl, leaning there against 
 the white column, a filmy " burnouse " over her bowed 
 and bonny head. But the urchin waited. " There s an 
 
PROLOGUE: AT THE POINT 17 
 
 answer," he insisted. So Fane took it to the hallway, 
 opened and read: 
 
 WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON, July 19. 
 Lieutenants Allen and Stennett killed by Apaches. Captain 
 Turner on leave. Your troop without an officer. All ordered 
 to the field. Now s your time. BURROUGHS, 
 
 Assistant Adjutant General. 
 
 She saw his face, and came to him, paling. 
 
 " Have you, too, bad news to-night ? " she asked. 
 
 " Bad, indeed ! " he answered, half dazed. " Two of 
 our best gone killed by Indians. My troop is ordered 
 out, and I must go." 
 
 But even then the blockhead bellboy stood his ground, 
 and no more at the moment could be said. The bus, 
 with passengers from the last up-train for the night, 
 rumbled to the south steps. One of its human freight 
 was met by a waiter who led him straightway through 
 the hall and out to the north piazza where in the dim 
 light three forms were discernible, a young girl and a 
 young officer side by side at the railing, a bellboy 
 stupidly staring midway across. The waiter fell back. 
 The new arrival went forward. Neither lifting his hat 
 nor lowering his voice, but in the tone of a master he 
 abruptly spoke. 
 
 " Ethel, where is your father ? He gave me the slip 
 to-day." 
 
 She turned, startled, a sudden flush on her cheek, sud- 
 
18 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 den wrath or resentment in her eyes. She turned and 
 faced him, squarely, but for a moment made no answer. 
 The effort seemed to repress, rather than to make, reply. 
 Fane, too, had turned upon the intruder, astonishment 
 and indignation in his pose. When her lips moved as 
 though to speak, another voice was heard at the doorway, 
 a voice that had no welcome in it. 
 
 " You want me, Betts, I suppose. Ethel, dear, will 
 you go to your mother?" 
 
 Bowing her head, she obeyed, but at the doorway stood 
 one moment and looked back. Fane in an instant was at 
 her side. 
 
 " To-morrow you will be here ? " she asked. 
 
 " To-morrow surely," he answered, and she hastened 
 up the stairs. 
 
 But when the morrow came, and with it Fane, the 
 girl was gone. Father, mother, daughter and family 
 friend had taken the first train townward, leaving, ap 
 parently, not a word or line. Strange stories were afloat 
 with the crowded steamer that Saturday evening. At 
 the Mess and on the hotel piazza men in civilian garb 
 were whispering about Wall Street; men in uniform 
 about the war in the far Southwest. Fane had wired for 
 release from duty at the Point, and orders to join his 
 troop in Arizona. 
 
PART II 
 THE PATHS OF WAR 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 TONTO PASS 
 
 IN the blistering heat of the afternoon sun, tormented 
 by thirst and harassed by the merciless fire of the 
 surrounding foe, a little band of regulars had been 
 crouching for hours among the rocks of the Sierra 
 Ancha, grimly standing off a swarm of fierce Apaches 
 until rescue should reach them from the distant fort. 
 Only twenty in number when they left Danger Canon 
 with their prisoners at dawn two days before, they were 
 reduced to less than ten effectives now, and the lieutenant 
 commanding, his head bound in a blood-stained handker 
 chief, his eyebrow seared by the sharp fang of the 
 Indian arrow, had already begun to count his cart 
 ridges and to pray for " night or Blucher." Every hour 
 seemed to claim its victim and diminish his fighting 
 strength. Every moment seemed to add to the numbers 
 of the enemy. The great reservation was not so very far 
 away. By hundreds the keen-eyed, quick-witted young 
 braves could readily slip unnoticed from its westward 
 line, take full share in the slow annihilation of the secretly 
 hated soldiery, then as swiftly hie them back to the 
 shelter of the Agency, innocent, apparently, of either 
 deadly weapon or evil intent. 
 
 91 
 
22 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 It was the old story of the old days before railway or 
 telegraph had traversed the territory. Raiding parties, 
 recruited doubtless from San Carlos or the Sierra 
 Blanca, but inspired by Chiricahuas, schooled by such 
 virulent foeman as Cochise and Victorio, and led by 
 young Geronimo in person, had murdered a stage load of 
 prospectors at the mouth of the deep, dark canon, had 
 burned Hogan s ranch and butchered Hogan s house 
 hold. Small detachments from the nearest posts had 
 been sent with the customary orders, " Pursue and 
 punish." The McDowell " outfit," forty strong, under 
 Lieutenant Blake, had chased one little gang southward 
 toward the fastnesses of Superstition Mountain. The 
 San Carlos guard, twenty of them at least, under Lieu 
 tenant Hunter, had trailed another batch into the Wild 
 Rye Valley, and lost them; while a third scout under 
 Lieutenant Fane had had a sharp fight with a third frag 
 ment in the heart of the canon itself; had killed three, 
 captured two wounded warriors, two squaws and some 
 children, and scattered the rest. Then, encumbered with 
 these charges and two of their own men quite seriously 
 injured, they started homeward only to find the way 
 barred by rallying bands, with the result that, after forty 
 hours siege, with half their number dead, dying, or 
 dangerously wounded, they were penned among the 
 rocks high up the southward face of Tonto Pass, their 
 prisoners turned loose, and their butchered horses already 
 beginning to fester in the fierce rays, in the ravine below. 
 
TONTO PASS 23 
 
 They were out of water, well-nigh out of ammunition, and 
 particularly out of patience with a post commander who 
 would send forth so very few civilized men-at-arms to 
 tackle so very many savages. The main dread was that 
 their cartridges would not last until relief could come. 
 The one hope was that Corporal Lafferty, who knew the 
 country like a native, had succeeded in slipping through 
 the encircling foe during the dark hours before the dawn, 
 and could make his way to the cantonment, two days 
 ordinary march to the east, bearing warning of their 
 plight. Then, if the post commander was neither an ass 
 nor a coward, as some declared and more suspected, suffi 
 cient force would probably be sent to the rescue. 
 
 But rescue might not come too surely, and could not 
 come too soon. The major was not the wisest man in 
 the army ; neither was he the bravest. American soldiers 
 are quick to analyze the individual traits of their officers. 
 The " personal equation " is speedily estimated, and, nine 
 times out of ten, with shrewdness and accuracy. " Ould 
 Spigots wouldn t have sent twenty fellers to do the job 
 of a full hundred if he hadn t been scared of his own 
 skin," was Sergeant Hickey s way of putting it when 
 talking with his kind. " Spigots " had two companies of 
 Foot to guard the post and two troops of cavalry to do 
 his scouting. There were not Apaches enough in all 
 Arizona to whip those two companies of infantry fight 
 ing in defense of the women, children, and the post, and 
 Spigots would have been far wiser had he sent Captain 
 
24 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Turner with seventy or eighty troopers in the first place. 
 But he professed to believe the " rumors " exaggerated, 
 and so told Lieutenant Fane. It was Turner who took 
 the lieutenant aside, before the start, and gave the young 
 fellow pointers that made him grave and anxious 
 pointers that proved only too well founded. 
 
 It was his first serious responsibility. He had seen 
 some little scouting on the open " plains " of Nebraska 
 and Kansas, some blithe years of service in eastward 
 stations, especially West Point, but mountain work in 
 Apache land was new to him, and he was new to almost 
 all the men. Only a month or so had he been with them, 
 and there had been no opportunity to gauge his caliber 
 or test his mettle. Old hands saw something to approve 
 in his riding and his knowledge of drill; but those were 
 days when in Arizona they rode little, drilled less, lived 
 on field rations, and died, as a rule, on foot scouts. New 
 hands comprehensively called him a fop. Ten years later 
 they would have dubbed him a " dude," but the term was 
 unknown in the early 70*5. Old hands knew that the 
 well-born and gently nurtured, the so-called " swells " 
 among their officers, generally came out strong when it 
 came to a fight. New hands were invariably confident 
 that the contrary would be the case. But both old and 
 new hands were at first disposed to differ from the lieu 
 tenant when he ordered " forward " after slaking the 
 thirst of both " mounts " and men at the crossing of the 
 Coyotero, where scouting parties from the post had 
 
TONTO PASS 25 
 
 always camped for the night. It lay, however, in a deep 
 pocket of the mountains, with commanding heights on 
 every side heights which might be occupied by an active 
 enemy to the discomfiture, if not destruction, of the picnic 
 party below. " We camp later," he had briefly said to 
 Sergeant Dolan, as he led the way up the rocky trail in 
 the ravine beyond, and the wisdom of the decision was 
 apparent within three hours, for, halting and unsaddling 
 at nightfall, seven miles farther on and well up the 
 range, observant troopers, looking back across the deep 
 valley, saw the signal smokes floating heavenwards from 
 the very heights whose shadows they had shunned. The 
 Apache, then, was already there in force, and there, like 
 rats in a hole, would they, the returning troopers, prob 
 ably have died, cut off and surrounded. Now, if hemmed 
 in, as answering eastward smokes quickly told them they 
 might be, they could fight more on the level, with a 
 chance for their lives. 
 
 But even Turner had not foreseen the possibility of a 
 rally from the reservations. How was he to know that 
 one of the wounded Indians, being littered along by 
 Fane s little command, was no less a personage than 
 Solalay, medicine chief, seer, dreamer, prophet and high 
 priest of the Sierra Blanca Apaches fomenter of more 
 mischief and possessor of more following than any war 
 chief in the seven tribes of the Sierras all due to his 
 infernal rites and incantations and the supertitious nature 
 of his people. "Solalay shot!" " Solalay taken I " 
 
26 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " Solalay, his squaws, his son, his brother all prisoners, 
 and being taken to the fort ! " " Come warriors all ! " 
 " Come to the rescue ! " were the words that went like 
 wildfire through the " rancherias " and wickyups among 
 the heights and hollows of the reservation, and what 
 warrior dare deny him whose runners sped, crying: 
 " Come to the gorge of the Coyotero, on the trail to 
 Danger Canon ! " And in overwhelming numbers, 
 though in little squads of three or four, from a dozen 
 points along the westward boundary, all unguarded, the 
 rescuers came. The signals told them the white chief had 
 been too wary. He would not camp, as had been cus 
 tomary, on the bank of the clear, rushing stream. Even 
 though it involved a seven-mile stumble up a rocky trail, 
 and only tepid, brackish tank water to drink over night, 
 Teniente Chiquito had pushed on, prisoners and all, 
 to the first big fight of his young life, for at the break 
 of dawn they had " rushed " him ten to one ; had dropped 
 a dozen of their number in the fierce assault, and been 
 whipped back empty handed. Then came the wiser 
 policy of the " surround " and long-range pot hunting, 
 stalking their bayed enemy from rock, bowlder, cactus, 
 " suwarrow " ; filling the air with barbed arrows and 
 barbaric yells, slowly reducing the number of the de 
 fenders until, after sturdy, resolute, heroic fighting for 
 over seven hours, it had become apparent to Fane that by 
 nightfall there would probably be nobody left. To save 
 the remnant of his force he must at least suffer the loss 
 
TONTO PASS &t 
 
 of his prisoners, hitherto securely held in a crevice of the 
 rocks. Even then neither he nor the veterans among his 
 men had any idea that Solalay, the renowned, was one 
 of them. " The whole reservation must be out," said old 
 Dolan grimly, as early as seven o clock, and at eleven 
 every rock and bush on every side seemed to have its 
 swarthy tenant, and every tenant either his sheaf of steel- 
 barbed arrows, or his long-ranged but no more deadly 
 rifle. It was a case of at least thirty to one. It was well- 
 nigh desperate. 
 
 Farnham, Schmidt, and Welch lay dead among the 
 bowlders of the tanks; Doyle and Murray, transfixed by 
 arrows, were gasping in torment ; Fuller s right shoulder 
 was smashed by a bullet; Higgins was shot with a 
 Springfield .50 through both thighs, and had bled almost 
 to death. Many another was stung or scratched, but still 
 effective. Fane himself had a sharp clip along the right 
 side, yet hardly noticed it. The poor horses and a half 
 dozen pack mules, herded for safety in a little ravine 
 below the tanks, one by one, all but four, had dropped 
 and died, some now looking like magnified pincushions. 
 Halfway up the bowlder-strewn slope to the north, per 
 haps two hundred yards from the tanks about which his 
 men were crouching, Fane had marked a little clump of 
 cedars and what looked to be an overhanging, rocky 
 ledge, far too small to accommodate the men and horses 
 of his original command, but big enough as a refuge for 
 those he had left. If now they could only get there and 
 
28 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 carry thither the helpless among their wounded! That 
 was the problem ! Already it was occupied by several 
 Apaches, for the exposure of head or hand on part of 
 any man of the defense would be followed by instant 
 flash from the cedars or the rocks around them. Kneel 
 ing by his young officer as the sun climbed toward the 
 zenith was Dolan, veteran sergeant of the great civil 
 war, and many a year on the plains, and to him the sub 
 altern turned, unhesitating: 
 
 "A rush will drive those villains out," said he, "but 
 how shall we get our wounded there ? " 
 
 " Hoist them on what s left of the horses, sir, and then 
 drive the Indian prisoners ahead of them. It s the only 
 way. Once there we can turn those beggars loose." 
 
 It was the only way ! With all its risk and peril, it was 
 the only way! To remain meant slow annihilation. To 
 cut through to the cedars meant the possibility of refuge 
 for all survivors until help could come. Once there the 
 little band might be secure from fire from the north and 
 west, and it was worth the trial. " Fill every canteen 
 first," was the low-murmured order passed from lip to 
 lip, and Sutton, the boy trumpeter of the sorrel troop 
 (Alas that so many of Turner s beautiful horses should 
 now be lying, hoofs up, in that bloody ravine below!) 
 crept from man to man and then to the stagnant pools 
 of rainwater " tanks " by Arizona nomenclature held 
 in rocky basins since the April cloudburst. Presently 
 each trooper was supplied with a dripping canteen, some 
 
TONTO PASS 29 
 
 of the seniors with two. Saddle blankets were spread 
 over the stiffening forms of the dead, and a few loose 
 rocks heaped over and about them, the only sepulture 
 possible under the circumstances, a mute appeal to savage 
 foemen not to mutilate the poor remains, and this, too, 
 accomplished only at the imminent risk of life or limb, 
 for arrow and bullet hissed and spit about them as they 
 crawled from body to body, from rock to rock. Dolan s 
 hat was torn from his grizzled poll by a well-aimed 
 feathered shaft, but the veteran was destined to live to 
 fight and die another day. Young Sutton cried out 
 in sudden pang as the same arrow that uncrowned his 
 sergeant ripped a gash in his cheek, then cursed himself 
 for a baby, and, dropping his canteen, picked up poor 
 Welch s blood-stained carbine and, sighting over the 
 sheltering bowlder, sent a Sharp s bullet to the rocks in 
 vain search for the archer. 
 
 Then came the next stage of the desperate game. 
 Doyle, Higgins, and Murray, though conscious, were 
 helpless, and had to be carried. Fuller, though in ex 
 quisite pain, could at least use his legs and head. Three 
 of the horses, still able to stagger, were led up from the 
 ravine to the partial shelter of a rocky buttress close to 
 the westward tank, and waiting comrades crouched 
 ready to lift two of the sufferers into saddle, but poor 
 Higgins could not hope to survive the agony of riding, 
 with both thighs jetting blood. One horse fell before he 
 could be used. Two of the strongest men were told off 
 
SO THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 to lift the Irishman in a blanket. It was the best they 
 could do. It left only seven men to fight: six had to 
 look after the wounded. Then, leaving the Indian medi 
 cine man silent and glaring on his litter, Dolan called up 
 the trembling squaws, the but slightly wounded warrior, 
 and a wailing Apache lad. Wondering, they arose and 
 obeyed, though believing they were going to their death. 
 With the butt of his carbine the sergeant drove them 
 before him through the bowlders to the edge of the road, 
 and from the cedars before them and the rocky slopes 
 on every side went up a cry of mingled rage and anguish. 
 What could it mean but that the white soldiers were 
 about to shoot their prisoners, as the Indian would do, 
 despairing of his own escape? For a moment the 
 Apaches dare not fire, fearing to hit their own. The 
 young brave had begun his weird death song. The 
 young officer, with quivering nerves but teeth close set, 
 carbine in hand, came crouching to join his sergeant, and 
 then they heard his voice. " Now, men, it s to be a rush 
 for those cedars. No matter who drops, the others must 
 keep on. First get our wounded there, then we can 
 rescue any who are hit. Up with Doyle and Murray, 
 now ! Ready, sergeant ? " 
 
 " Ready, sir," came the veteran s answer, as, leaping 
 to his feet, he whacked the chanting savage between the 
 shoulder blades with the butt of his gun. " Now, you 
 blackguard, Ugashie!" he yelled, and like a deer the 
 Indian sprang up the slope ahead. The two squaws fled 
 

TONTO PASS 31 
 
 screaming after him, and, all in a second, Fane s little 
 party, firing right and left wherever savage headdress or 
 swarthy face appeared, with the staggering horses, the 
 half fainting riders in their midst, and the blanket- 
 stretcher bearers stumbling blindly after them, went 
 charging zigzag up the slope, Fane and Dolan shouting in 
 the lead. Desperate as it seemed, it was well contrived, 
 for now the Apaches fired wildly and without aim, and 
 only from flank and rear, for those in front were curtained 
 by the fleeing, shrieking prisoners, expecting every instant 
 to be shot down by their pursuers as they ran. Arrow 
 and bullet both hissed about the poor shrinking forms 
 in saddle, and zipped and bounded from the rocks. Cries 
 of agony and moans of anguish alike were hushed in 
 the uproar of the carbines and the maddening clamour of 
 the charge. No time for backward glance or laggard 
 pause. All eyes now were fastened on the goal, all 
 muscles steeled for the final effort. Right and left, with 
 streaming, dirty-white breech clouts, sinewy, dusky 
 forms went bounding away from the cedars too well 
 the Apache knew the risk of hand to hand fight with the 
 hated paleface and those tall, vengeful, cheering, blue- 
 shirted ruffians in the lead were rushing straight at them. 
 There was no Indian left to hold the fort when the fore 
 most troopers, with lowered carbines, came bounding in: 
 then, though breathless, turning to open swift fire on the 
 now more reckless foemen, and to lend a hand at lifting 
 exhausted comrades into the hard-won refuge. It had 
 
32 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 taken barely two minutes to cross that fire-swept, rock- 
 strewn slope. It had seemed almost an age, so desperate 
 was the peril so fierce was the volleying so awful, to 
 those who had to hold back and hear them, the piteous 
 cries of the tortured wounded. With two fresh arrows 
 sticking in his reeking sides one poor horse plunged 
 madly into the little space between the cedars and the 
 ledge beyond, his fainting rider, Doyle, toppling head 
 long out of saddle. There was no room for quadrupeds, 
 no mercy now for those that at any other time would 
 have been the object of their tenderest care. Fane s 
 heart seemed to come up into his throat in one great sob 
 of pity as he had to strike the blow that drove the suf 
 fering creature back upon the blistering rocks, which it 
 deluged with its blood, then dropped and died. One by 
 one the charging troopers reached the cedars and threw 
 themselves upon the ground gasping for breath, well- 
 nigh exhausted. Poor Fuller fell in a swoon fifty feet 
 short of the point, and Dolan grabbed him under his left 
 arm and dragged him along until Scott could bear a 
 hand in helping. Murray s horse, though shot the 
 second time, all unled, unaided, came safely into the 
 covert, his work accomplished, only to be driven forth as 
 soon as his limp rider could be lowered to the ground. 
 They saw him, neighing piteously, go staggering down 
 the slope again in search of comrades and of water. 
 They saw, at least some did, a blue-shirted arm uplifted 
 among the bowlders halfway back toward the tanks 
 
TONTO PASS 33 
 
 uplifted as though in appeal to the friendless brute to 
 rescue him, the abandoned of his own comrades. Then, 
 as they looked about them, gasping inquiry and dread, 
 these few who had succeeded in bringing their three or 
 four severely wounded fellows to shelter, to the sobbing 
 question " Who s left? " " Who didn t make it? " there 
 came the miserable answer of a poor lad, himself bleeding 
 from a fresh arrow wound, quivering with pain and ter 
 ror a young recruit on his first scout, " It s Hayden 
 him that was holding Murray in saddle! His leg was 
 broke by a bullet." 
 
 * And already the besieged could see that the agile 
 Indians, darting from bowlder to bowlder, were fast 
 closing in upon the abandoned position of the tanks, upon 
 their comrades, the unburied dead, upon that latest vic 
 tim of the ambuscade, their comrade, the stricken and 
 helpless and conscious living, and in the awed and awful 
 silence that fell upon the party, faint, yet distinct came 
 the appealing cry " For God s sake, boys, don t leave me 
 here ! Don t let them get me ! " 
 
 And then the volleying began again. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A NOBLE RESCUE 
 
 THAT was at noon the first day. Now it was 
 noon of the second, and in those twenty-four 
 hours the question of that " personal equation " 
 had been settled for all time, so far as the lieutenant com 
 manding was concerned. The caliber had been deter 
 mined; the mettle was declared. From an unknown 
 quantity as an Indian fighter and a man, Lieutenant Fane 
 had sprung into the fullness of a soldier s reward the 
 love and reverence of his men ; for love and even worship 
 both they give in unstinted measure to the officer who 
 dares death, perhaps by cruel torture, to save the hum 
 blest of their kind from the possibility of such a fate. 
 This had Fane done in face of most appalling odds. This 
 had Fane done in spite of vehement remonstrance from 
 veteran campaigners. This had Fane done after Dolan 
 had been wounded, and Sinclair shot dead in the desperate 
 attempt. This had Fane done when reason itself pleaded 
 with him not to dare it, and even conscience gave him 
 pause. Were there not others to be considered? others 
 here and elsewhere to whom his life and services might 
 soon be necessary? For many a day that deed became 
 the talk of many a tongue in soldier circles all over the 
 
 34 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 35 
 
 West. For many a month it stood without a parallel in 
 point of daring and difficulty, and for some strange rea 
 son for many a week it stood unheralded, unrecognized 
 in official reports, therefore does it deserve its full meed 
 of honor and attention here. 
 
 Hayden had come from nobody knew where, a young 
 recruit who within the month had been assigned to Tur 
 ner s troop from the last batch received from the States. 
 He had given his age as twenty-one, his birthplace some 
 little interior town of Pennsylvania, his occupation a 
 clerk, and the recruiting officer had done the rest. He 
 did not look to be twenty-one. He had delicate, almost 
 girlish, features. He was barely five feet six in his 
 spurred cavalry boots, and he could not have weighed one 
 hundred and thirty, yet had he been accepted. He proved 
 a good rider, and somewhere had learned something of 
 foot drill and the manual. He was either homesick, 
 or perhaps " hazed " too much when the detachment was 
 ordered out, but he and young Ferniss, who came with 
 him, had begged the first sergeant to let them go, and 
 when that gruff but worthy veteran told them to be off 
 about their business (they whipped off their caps and 
 stood attention to, and in awe of, first sergeants in those 
 days) they never stopped to argue, but shot for the door 
 and collided at the threshold with a man they as yet knew 
 and feared far less their captain. Turner asked what 
 was wanted, and shook his head when told. " Mr. Fane 
 may need good shots and steady old hands/ said he. It 
 
36 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 was Major " Spigots " who settled the question in favor 
 of the youngsters by happening in at that very minute to 
 say to Captain Turner that instead of sending half a troop 
 he should only send his lieutenant with twenty men. 
 " And I wish our recruits broken in as quickly as pos 
 sible," he added, " so send two or three with every scout." 
 Orders are orders. The captain and the sergeant ex 
 changed glances but no words. The two lads went, 
 and as related, Furniss, terror-stricken at the fate of his 
 friend, had dropped the reins of poor Murray s horse and 
 run for the cedars, while little Hayden, with his left leg 
 shattered below the knee, lay shouting for help among the 
 rocks halfway back down the slope. 
 
 It was on the dash for the cedars that Mr. Fane was 
 nearly blinded by an arrow from the left that tore a rent 
 along the forehead just over the eyes. The blood poured 
 into them, and much rude surgery and not a little of his 
 shirt and all of his handkerchief were needed before his 
 men could stanch the flow. Much water, too, was used 
 at a time when all the command, wounded and un- 
 wounded, were taking a pull at the canteens. For an 
 hour, while his best shots, lying prone or crouching in 
 their little fortress, held the Apaches at respectful dis 
 tance and rattled their rapid fire, the lieutenant lay on his 
 back, quiet and uncomplaining, occasionally aiding Cor 
 poral Scott, his amateur surgeon, with some suggestion. 
 He knew of Hayden s plight; had called with powerful 
 voice to him whom he could not see : " Lie still. We ll 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 37 
 
 get to you presently," and now was striving to plan some 
 way, not only of reaching, but of bringing him in. To 
 him it might not be so difficult to crawl, edging from 
 bowlder to bowlder. How to bring him up that hundred 
 yards of missile-swept slope was the problem, yet before 
 dark it must be done, for at dusk of a surety the Apaches 
 would steal among the rocks until they reached him, and 
 then leisurely, lingeringly, would butcher him with their 
 knives, rejoicing the while in the awful screams of their 
 helpless victim. Fane knew all about it, though this was 
 his first independent scout in Arizona, Indian methods of 
 torture being much the same the wild West over. 
 
 But, before he was able to see and to resume command 
 again, Sergeant Dolan, with one gallant fellow to aid 
 him, had made an essay of his own. It was spontane 
 ous, unpremeditated, and well-nigh fatal to all concerned. 
 
 Hayden s cries for help had not ceased. He seemed to 
 think it necessary to keep up the clamour, and, while it 
 could no earlier bring him aid, it kept the enemy informed 
 of his exact position, and only just missed compassing his 
 death. Two of the Apaches, more venturesome than 
 their fellows, coveting the distinction of killing a defense 
 less foe, had crawled, snakelike, across the road from the 
 side of the tanks, and slowly, cautiously wormed their 
 way, keeping out of view of the besieged, and presently 
 the poor lad caught sight of them slowly creeping toward 
 him, the foremost with his knife in his teeth, and then his 
 yell for help was unearthly in its agony. It was more 
 
38 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 than Dolan and Sinclair could stand. Carbine at full 
 cock, they were aiming through the cedars at the bowl 
 ders beyond the road, watching for the first head to show 
 itself. They were at the west end of the little ledge at 
 the moment, while their officer, faint from loss of blood 
 and blind from his bandages, lay beneath the overhang 
 of rock toward the eastward side, Scott s nervous fingers 
 still busily at work. " Shall we try ? " muttered Sinclair. 
 " Come on ! " said Dolan, setting his teeth, and down the 
 slope they drove, full dash for the point where Hayden 
 lay. Instantly arrow and bullet flew to meet them, yet 
 happily missed. They reached him unscathed. Both 
 Indians at sight of them sprang to their feet and ran 
 venire a terre, but Dolan s bullet tore through the vitals 
 of one and sent him sprawling on his face. The other 
 reached the tanks unhurt. Then, between them, the two 
 daring, devoted fellows strove to lift and carry the 
 wounded boy. As much as twenty yards they actually 
 dragged or bore him before poor Sinclair paid the for 
 feit of his devotion, and sank without a sound, shot 
 through the brain. " Lie you here, Hayden ; I can t lift 
 you alone," said Dolan, " I ll stay with you." But, even 
 as he spoke and before he could sprawl beside the faint 
 ing lad, a bullet tore across his broad and heaving chest 
 and flattened on the bowlder by his side. Two more of 
 Fane s best men were hors de combat, and the day was not 
 yet done. 
 
 An hour later, his clothing soaked with blood, Dolan 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 39 
 
 managed to crawl to within a few yards of the cedars and, 
 being aided into the refuge, was given stimulant from the 
 lieutenant s flask, and then told his tale: Sinclair dead, 
 Hayden half dead and now suffering for water. Dolan 
 himself, faint and exhausted from loss of blood, was yet 
 eager to gather strength and go again to the succor of the 
 wounded boy. But not an eye looked into his with an 
 swering fervor. Death had won too many. The men 
 were getting cowed. Fane s eyes were still shrouded by 
 their bandage. Scott dare not lift it for fear of starting 
 again the enfeebling flow. But Fane could listen and 
 reflect and ask questions that plainly showed the trend of 
 his thoughts. Those soldier spirits were beginning to 
 lean on his judgment now. He had skillfully withdrawn 
 them from a position of peril to one that promised safety 
 for another day, perhaps even until relief could come. 
 The move had been accomplished with less loss than 
 seemed possible and, so long as they clung to the cedars, 
 though both arrow and bullet whizzed above and about 
 them, no man had been struck. Dolan and Sinclair had 
 met their wounds in venturing forth; therefore should 
 there be no further venturing if others could prevent it. 
 The best troops in the world, say the authorities, find their 
 breaking strain when one-third of their number are shot 
 down. These men had suffered the loss of more just 
 more than half. And now poor Hayden s voice was 
 again uplifted, feebler far, and to his former plea for help 
 was added the prayer, " For God s sake water ! " There 
 
40 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 was not a full canteen among them. Some few were 
 already empty. Dolan was drinking long from Scott s; 
 his own, pierced by a bullet, had leaked out every drop. 
 In their fevered state and in the fierce and glaring heat the 
 wounded men were already moaning for more. 
 
 Fane signalled with his hand. Corporal Scott bent 
 over him. " One of you shout to Hayden to be patient a 
 little longer," said he. "We are coming to get him." 
 And Scott, with a shake of the head at the concluding 
 words, nevertheless told Mullins to shout as ordered. 
 Mullins obeyed, and for response there rose a derisive 
 jeer down by the tanks a few loud words in the Tonto 
 dialect, and then a chorus of taunts, yells and laughter 
 
 from on every side. It s that d d scoundrel, the Kid ! " 
 
 said Scott, between his teeth. " He picked up English, 
 with his living, around the garrison, and now he s play 
 ing interpreter. his hide ! " 
 
 But Fane was paying no heed to taunt or laughter. 
 He was pondering deeply. Life had been sweet to him 
 through his young manhood. Born and bred in the army, 
 he had grown up steeped in its tenets and traditions ; had 
 gone early to West Point, a reward for the brilliant ser 
 vices of his soldier father, and now that father was com 
 manding his regiment in the distant East, hoping again to 
 wear the stars before retirement. The loving mother, 
 and the girls, his sisters, were there on the seaboard with 
 him, and well did Fane know with what confidence and 
 pride they watched the despatches from the Pacific slope. 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 41 
 
 He, the only son and brother, would never fail them. The 
 name had never known a shirk or coward. Thus far in 
 their reports his seniors had spoken well of him. Thus 
 far he had upheld the traditions of his House, but all had 
 been plain sailing, so to speak. Never until now had 
 there come supreme test, but come at last it had. Now it 
 was for him to decide, to act, to take his life in his hands 
 and, daring all, to do or to die. There was a dream, a 
 hope that had been fondly and secretly cherished ever 
 since the previous summer. Even Pet, his confidante 
 among the sisterhood of three, had never been told. He 
 meant to tell her, though, if all went well and the answer 
 to his letters, sometimes four weeks on the way, should 
 warrant it. There was a girl in cloudland and a distant 
 Eastern State who had looked with favoring eyes on the 
 young trooper; had danced with him rather more, and 
 ridden much more, than with anyone else the previous 
 summer at the Point. She was an acknowledged belle, 
 and a partially acknowledged beauty. She had been 
 spoken of, commercially, as a " catch," which Fane heard 
 with inward shrinking it hurt his chances for one rea 
 son, though there were others. Such letters as had come 
 were pleasant reading, very friendly, quite encouraging, 
 just such society letters, as experienced fellows could have 
 told him, that girls send when they wish to hear more 
 than has yet been said, without for their part saying any 
 thing. Fane thought them charming, if vague ; but then 
 why should she how could she say more when as yet 
 
42 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 he had made no definite proposition? If she knew any 
 thing, and he believed she knew much, she knew he cared 
 for her far more than for any girl he had ever met ; only 
 how could a man ask any girl to give up such a home 
 as hers to dwell in Arizona ? Another year, probably, the 
 regiment would be eastward bound, that had been 
 almost promised, and then, then with his captaincy 
 surely not four years away, he might pluck up courage 
 and go and ask her. 
 
 But meantime here was his little force reduced one- 
 half by death or wounds, by arrow or bullet; cut off 
 from food, friends, or water by a host of circling and 
 savage foes, foes that took few chances and gave no 
 quarter. Meantime here, only eighty yards away, in the 
 scorching sun, crippled, tortured and imploring, here was 
 young Hayden, shrieking in his misery, praying for aid, 
 and he, the responsible officer, had said, " No matter who 
 drops, the others must keep on. Get our wounded there 
 first, then we can rescue any who are hit." Hayden lay 
 demanding the fulfillment of a soldier s promise the 
 keeping of a knightly word. 
 
 Then Fane rose slowly to his knees. " We must have 
 this off now, corporal," said he quietly. " I have got to 
 look about me." Silently the soldier obeyed, his hands- 
 trembling a bit as slowly and cautiously he removed the 
 sodden folds. One end of the jagged rent began again 
 to bleed. " Draw the edges together," said Fane, " and 
 stick on a strip of court-plaster." Scott knew what that 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 4S 
 
 meant, and glanced appealingly at Dolan, lying flat in the 
 scant shade of a little cedar. 
 
 " The lieutenant surely will not try it," began Dolan, 
 rising to his elbow. " It s certain death, sir." 
 
 " You tried it," answered Fane briefly, and looking 
 about him with eyes that blinked in the insupportable 
 glare. In spite of scorching heat how wan and drawn 
 were the faces all turned now full upon him. The strain 
 was indeed telling on one and all. 
 
 " We tried, sir, when there seemed a chance," was 
 Dolan s answer. " They made us understand there was 
 none. I beg the lieutenant to wait till evening, till dark, 
 then two of us can venture down and ride him up on Hig- 
 gins s blanket." From the eyes of every man came re 
 sponsive pleading, from the lips of every man responsive 
 murmured protest. From down the slope again there 
 came, though fainter, feebler still, the wailing cry of that 
 tortured boy. " Oh, for God s sake, fellows, help 
 water ! " and now Fane shook loose the restraining hand 
 the corporal had ventured to place upon his shoulder, and 
 crawled to the edge of the shelf of rock whence he could 
 peer through the cedars. Meantime the men lay, looking 
 helplessly into each other s faces until Dolan spoke : 
 
 " It will take the heart out of what s left of us, sir, if 
 anything happens to you. Let Sutton slip down to him 
 with a canteen. The boy s willing to try." 
 
 The boy might have been two hours earlier, but he had 
 seen and suffered too much. There was not a soldier left 
 
44 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 sound and stout-hearted enough to make the desperate 
 essay, and Fane saw and realized it. " Give me my belt 
 and revolver," was his only answer. In silence he buckled 
 it about his slender waist. " Now, a pull at a canteen," 
 he presently added. " No, not the flask," for Scott 
 glanced up inquiringly. " It may have to be slow work, 
 not a dash." Rinsing his mouth, he then poured a little 
 over bis wrists. " Now, listen," said he. " I know how 
 firemen carry heavy men. My muscles are sound and 
 strong, thank God, and Hayden doesn t weigh much more 
 than a child. I ll crawl till I get to him, give him a swal 
 low or two, then hoist him and start. You men, all of 
 you, blaze away at every head in every direction, and I 
 believe we can make it. If we don t, then Sergeant 
 Dolan s in command until the captain comes, and you can 
 count on his coming." 
 
 Once more came the appeal from the sergeant, " For 
 God s sake, wait till evening, sir." Once more the appeal 
 from below, " For God s sake, come I m dying." 
 
 " Don t you hear? " said Fane.. " That poor lad won t 
 last till nightfall, even if the Indians don t get him. Re 
 member the instructions now. That s all." 
 
 With that the slender, sinewy form of the young leader 
 quickly, suddenly dove from the eastward opening, 
 straight for the shelter of a bowlder some ten feet out in 
 front of the shelf, and only a few feet below its level. It 
 was done in an instant, but a yell went up from the encir 
 cling rocks a quick crackle of shots on the breathless 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 43 
 
 air. " All right so far," his humbler comrades heard him 
 call, and then, such as could not shoot, such as could only 
 watch and pray, dragged themselves to the natural parapet 
 along the trees and peered under the stiff, hot branches. 
 They saw the lithe form flat thrown upon the sands, clad 
 like their own in flannel shirt, canvas hunting trousers, 
 and Apache moccasins whose loose folds fell about the 
 ankles ; saw him go twisting and squirming from the first 
 bowlder across the burning slope to the shelter of the 
 next, even as bullets flattened and barbed arrows bounded 
 upon the rocks about him. They saw him peering cau 
 tiously out from one rock in search of another refuge; 
 saw him half glide, half scurry, across another patch of 
 open space", the earth tossed in little jets by the few shots 
 that hit close about him, and then the bowlders hid him 
 from their view. All they could do was wait and listen 
 until somebody should tell them he had reached their 
 stricken comrade, and then, shame-faced, Mullins begged 
 leave to go. " Stay where you are," said Dolan, " and 
 shoot low. You ve got the down-hill side." 
 
 It was then that Dunn and Tracy, perched among the 
 bowlders at the back, with orders to keep down the fire 
 from that quarter and check any attempt to rush them, 
 shouted warning to the little party under the ledge. 
 " Watch out, fellers ! They re sneaking on him from 
 down there at the road ! " Then indeed was the peril 
 double, for, even as Fane was hidden by the rocks that 
 strewed the hillside, so were the Indians who sought to 
 
46 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 creep forward. From the clump of cedars both parties 
 were now invisible. Carbine in hand, Scott hastily swung 
 himself aloft and flattened out like a squirrel on the upper 
 level. 
 
 " I see them," he cried in eager triumph ; crammed 
 a cartridge into his " Sharp," took long and steady aim, 
 then fired. The bullet went spat against the face of a 
 rock not a foot from a white-turbaned, swarthy head 
 barely protruding, and the head popped instantly out of 
 sight. There was momentary check to the approach from 
 the roadway, then the storm from right and left burst 
 thrillingly on Scott. Down he came with sputter and 
 slide and nervous laugh, but conscious of work well done, 
 a diversion in favor of his young chief. 
 
 And then, all on a sudden, burst from Mullins s lips a 
 cry of mingled triumph, admiration and dread. " My 
 God, boys ; look at him ! " And there, full seventy yards 
 away, with young Hayden s left arm drawn down over the 
 broad blue shoulder, with Hayden hanging helpless on his 
 back, half dead, yet conscious of the fearful danger, Fane 
 staggered into view, bending almost double, but rushing 
 from one rock to another in the desperate hope of carry 
 ing his shrieking burden through unscathed. In the tor 
 ture of splintered bone and lacerated flesh and sinew, in 
 the terror of seeing or hearing swift-darting missiles 
 about and on every side, the poor lad could not suppress 
 his cries. Just as a moment before he was imploring aid, 
 so now he was madly begging : " Put me down ! I can t 
 
A NOBLE RESCUE 47 
 
 stand it ! Oh, for God s sake, put me down ! They ll kill 
 us both!" 
 
 But all unheeding, relentless, grimly determined, Fane 
 came plunging on, and every man within the refuge lifted 
 up his voice in cheer or prayer or even execration. Every 
 carbine barked its blazing answer to the Indian fire. 
 
 Once, not forty yards away, Fane stumbled, and down 
 went carrier and carried upon their faces in the sand. 
 But the young athlete was up in an instant. Again was 
 Hayden seized and swung to the strong young back. Once 
 again down they went, this time by design, between two 
 rocks where there was at least partial shelter. Then 
 came the supreme moment, the last effort, and now, do or 
 die, there was an open space of over forty feet that must 
 ^be crossed at the run. They saw him moisten his lips 
 ^once more from the battered and dripping canteen; saw 
 I the despair and agony in Hayden s woeful face; then, 
 once again, deaf to cry or entreaty, Fane slung him to his 
 shoulder, that broken, bleeding leg flapping and dan 
 gling about the slender, sinewy limbs. " Now, give em 
 hell, men ! " they heard Dolan shout, and every eye had 
 to turn in search of pursuers or peering, cruel faces sight 
 ing over the surrounding rocks. Then with a rush on 
 came Fane again, and pandemonium broke loose in Tonto 
 Pass, for all the fiends of the infernal regions seemed out 
 for a howling holiday. Half, two-thirds the way, de 
 spite hurtling arrow and hissing lead, despite splintering 
 rock or scattering sand, the daring fellow bore his sense- 
 
48 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 less load, for pain and terror had done their work at last 
 and Hayden had fainted. Then down once more went 
 Fane, still short pistol shot from friends and refuge, and 
 then they saw that his exertions had been too much for 
 the restraining plaster, that the blood from his torn fore 
 head was blinding him again. He drew his flannel sleeve 
 across and swept it for the instant aside, grasped again 
 his almost lifeless burden, and plunged dizzily ahead, 
 stumbled a third time, some low outcrop snaring the moc- 
 casined foot, yet caught himself and staggered on; and 
 at last God only knows who turned aside those jagged, 
 hissing, death-dealing missiles dropped all in a heap at 
 the foot of the cedars, and was dragged in by eager hands, 
 lifted in by stalwart arms, and borne beneath the shelter 
 ing ledge, gasping for breath, exhausted, yet victorious, 
 for there, too, lay Hayden, white and limp, senseless, but 
 safe for the day at least, with Scott dripping whiskey 
 down his thankless gullet. 
 
 " Yell all you like, you murthering devils ! " cried old 
 Dolan, his voice all broken with strain and emotion, " but 
 we ve got em safe and sound, and you ll never see the 
 chance again ! " 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 ONLY JUST IN TIME 
 
 THEN came a night no survivor of that episode, 
 the siege of Tonto Pass, has ever been able to 
 forget. The last drop of water was gone by 
 sunset, the last scrap of bacon or hardtack long since de 
 voured. It was too dark for those of the besiegers who 
 would have been glad to steal in upon the suffering party. 
 It was too light for any of the besieged to venture down 
 in search of water. Three of the wounded became deli 
 rious before midnight. All of the defenders were worn 
 and well-nigh exhausted. It was a mercy that the 
 Apache is a coward when he cannot clearly see his 
 way. 
 
 Just before dawn there had come a gleam of hope, a 
 drop of comfort. The moon had sunk behind the Matitzal. 
 The signal fires that had been burning far to the west 
 across the Coyotero died out before twelve, and others 
 appeared ten or twelve miles to the north. Between the 
 Tonto tanks and the east, the direction in which lay the 
 reservation and the fort, rose the high, rugged range that 
 stretched for many a league, a barrier between the spark 
 ling, swift-rushing stream they had crossed with their 
 prisoners now thirty-six hours agone and the broad valley 
 
 49 
 
50 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and more sluggish current of the Salado, a good day s 
 march to the east. Signals from the reservation could not 
 be seen on the west side of the Pass, but somebody was 
 signaling to Dolan, signaling something those vagabonds 
 about them should know without fail, for they were being 
 repeated from a high point across the Coyotero Valley 
 whence both the bold crest of Sombrero Peak, the Apache 
 signal tower, and the westward face of the Tonto Range 
 could readily be seen. "Those signals," said Dolan, 
 " like as anything mean Look out ! Soldiers coming ! " 
 Like as not they meant that Lafferty had managed to 
 reach the post, give warning of their plight, and Captain 
 Turner, with lots of the boys, was already in march to 
 relieve them. It was a cheering faith, at all events, and 
 did much to bolster heart and courage through the dismal 
 hours before the dawn. The drop of comfort came 
 through little Sutton. Inspired by his commander s dar 
 ing, and determined to make amends for his own 
 weakness, Sutton, too, had won his spurs and the blessing 
 of his fellows. 
 
 Thrice during the late afternoon he had noted that 
 certain mountain birds, twittering and hovering over 
 the tanks now held by the Apaches, came flying up 
 the slope, and every time had dropped at the same spot 
 among the bowlders, somewhere about pistol shot away 
 to the west of the cedars, yet well within the encircling 
 lines. They daren t get water at the usual place," he 
 argued. :t They know some hole in the rocks up here." 
 
ONLY JUST IN TIME 51 
 
 Warm, stagnant, lifeless pool of rock-basin rainwater 
 though it might be, it was priceless if only they could 
 reach it. Sutton whispered his theories to Dolan, grimly 
 keeping watch and ward while Fane, for a while, slept 
 the sleep of exhaustion, and Dolan whispered back it was 
 worth the trial. With three big, felt-covered canteens 
 strapped to his shoulders, his revolver in his belt and his 
 boy heart in his mouth, the youngster crept cautiously 
 down in the shadow of the cedars, then wormed himself 
 along on his belly through the soft, warm sand, past rock 
 and bowlder and greasewood clump, until he came to a 
 hollow perhaps twenty feet wide, and down in this dip on 
 the westward slope were stony basins, three or four, and 
 in two of these, beneath overhanging rock, something was 
 gleaming. Water! water! God be thanked! And in 
 trembling eagerness he shuffled down, stooped, drank his 
 fill drank till he could drink no more then noiselessly 
 uncorked and sank his canteens, noting with sorrow that 
 after filling the three he had well-nigh emptied the first 
 and deepest of the two receptacles. Then back he 
 crouched with his priceless treasure, and in three minutes 
 more parched tongues and fevered lips were praising him. 
 Two more expeditions made the boy, unseen, unheard, 
 unmolested, of their foe, and then, though still there was 
 need, there lived no warrant for another trip the last 
 drop had been sponged up and squeezed into the last can 
 teen. Blessed relief and comfort it brought indee d, but 
 all was gone by noon of that second day, even that por- 
 
52 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 tion hoarded for the wounded men, and by early afternoon 
 the torment was again upon them. 
 
 Whatever the meaning of the signal fires, there had 
 been nothing as yet in the conduct of the siege to warrant 
 the belief that the Apaches were in any wise disturbed. 
 Knowing as they did that the only food of the besieged 
 was the handful of hardtack or bacon they had seized 
 from the packs before the rush for the cedars ; knowing 
 that they must be suffering sorely for want of water, and 
 hearing from time to time the sweet music of the cries of 
 the delirious wounded, the savage warriors were appar 
 ently biding their time and taking no chances. Those 
 about the tank, it was true, had crawled across the road, 
 and as many as thirty or more had established themselves 
 among the bowlders down the slope, interposing between 
 the coveted water and the craving garrison of the little 
 fort. Others, too, had been having a merry time among 
 the slaughtered horses and mules, emptying saddle-bags, 
 flour, sugar, and coffee sacks, and gorging themselves, the 
 first in possession, with beans and bacon and hardtack. 
 But all the time there were a dozen or more of their best 
 marksmen keeping vigilant watch on every side, sending 
 in a spiteful shot whenever hat or hand of the besieged 
 Thowed above the rock parapets they had piled up during 
 the night. At two o clock in the afternoon poor Murray 
 was dying, and Doyle sinking fast. Higgins was tossing 
 and moaning in feverish torment. Fuller lay with ghastly 
 face, biting into the flesh of his forearm to stifle the 
 
ONLY JUST IN TIME 53 
 
 groans that agony would have wrung from him. Poor 
 young Hayden by turns dreamed deliriously or woke to 
 full consciousness of his increasing pain and their immi 
 nent peril. He was beginning to realize what he had es 
 caped when, in awe-stricken tones, Mullins, posted as 
 lookout toward the south, announced, " My God, fellers, 
 they ve found Sinclair s body. Hear em screeching." It 
 was true. Creeping stealthily forward, sheltered by the 
 rocks and secure against sortie, three or four of the most 
 venturesome had at last come upon the lifeless form, and 
 had proceeded, after their kind and custom, to make the 
 most of their opportunity. Their shouts and shrieks of 
 rejoicing attracted others to the spot, and tempted one 
 young brave beyond his covert, when Mullins stretched 
 him with a well-aimed shot. But all the same the revelry 
 went on. Presently a blood-dripping shirt was waved in 
 triumph over the rocks. Then Sinclair s riding trousers 
 were swung and flourished. Then, presently, an awful 
 sight, a human head was tossed in air and thrown about, 
 and finally set up, staring with sightless eyes from the 
 highest bowlder. It sickened Mullins, and he cowered at 
 the foot of the parapet. " There s where you d a been, 
 Hayden/ he sobbed, "if it hadn t been for the 
 lieutenant ! " 
 
 The situation was becoming unbearable. Up the pass, 
 to the east, only at one point was it possible to see the 
 road. From that direction, said they all, must rescue 
 come if it were coming, and Dolan s haggard eyes again 
 
54 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and again turned thither, for again it was his watch, while 
 Fane, who had waked most of the night and all the morn 
 ing, and Scott, his helper, sought what sleep it was pos 
 sible to find. Little Sutton, flat on his stomach, his 
 boy face buried in his arms, was lying in some fitful 
 dream. 
 
 An arrow, glancing from the rock above and deflected 
 downward, had torn through his hatbrim and ripped a 
 furrow down his shoulder blade, adding to his earlier 
 pangs and nervous unrest. The shrill clamour down the 
 slope roused the young commander, and sitting up, he 
 swept aside the bandages that Scott had renewed, and 
 peering through the cedars saw between him and the 
 abandoned tanks the grewsome trophy of Apache prowess. 
 Weak and weary though he was, it stirred his heart to 
 wrath to swift and vengeful action. They saw him 
 stretch forth his hand for a carbine that lay at the little 
 parapet, but old Dolan spoke : 
 
 "Will the lieutenant look?" he said, and, without 
 another word, turned and his extended arm directed 
 Fane s glance to the stark form of Murray, the dead face 
 covered by a stained neckerchief to still another from 
 which the last spark of life had but that moment fled, poor 
 Doyle, whose eyes the corporal was striving gently to 
 close and could not, for the tears that blinded his own to 
 the writhing form and clinching hands of Hayden and 
 Fuller, both burning now with fever, to little Sutton hid 
 ing his face in vain efforts to hide his suffering. Fane 
 
ONLY JUST IN TIME 55 
 
 saw what was meant, saw it in the drawn features and 
 haggard, pleading eyes before Dolan ventured to speak 
 again : " We can t let the lieutenant risk anything now, 
 sir, when we ve lost so much already." 
 
 " Then may God bring us relief," was the murmured 
 prayer, unheard among the heights of the Sierras, yet 
 answered from on High. There came a hail from the 
 lookout post to the northward, and Dolan signed to Mul- 
 lins to see what was needed. The Irish trooper was back 
 in an instant, his eyes blazing with hope. " Lootn t ! 
 Lootn t ! " he cried. " There s somethin comin God 
 knows what only the Injuns are lighting out ! " 
 
 Then those northward signals, those beacon lights on 
 the jagged cliffs of the Matitzal, meant something after 
 all, something the Apaches might wisely have earlier 
 heeded. " Lighting out " they were indeed ! Far down 
 the sunset slope of the range, five and six hundred yards 
 away, the lithe forms, with their flapping clouts of dingy 
 white, could be seen at intervals scurrying toward the 
 roadway in the ravine. Glancing eastward in response to 
 the excited shout, " Look yonder ! There s more of em ! " 
 Fane could see still other dusky shapes gliding noiselessly 
 among the bowlders, all heading southward. They had 
 ceased their fire, too. It seemed as though they were 
 striving to escape from some swift-coming force, giving 
 no sound to guide the pursuit. Then what the enemy 
 dreaded the enemy should get, was Fane s instant and im 
 pulsive decision, though well he knew there were in all 
 
56 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 their belts perhaps not thirty cartridges left. He was 
 ablaze with excitement, enthusiasm, lust for vengeance 
 now he who had been so cool, calculating, and deter 
 mined but the day before. The fever of his hurts had 
 burned into his blood. The hot rage of battle was again 
 in his soul, and it was a sudden word from Mullins that 
 swept for the moment sense and judgment from his brain. 
 " My God, fellows, can t we get after those blackguards 
 that chopped up Sinclair? " One look southward showed 
 that ghastly head, still mutely staring at them in the glare 
 of the slanting sunshine. 
 
 " We ll do it ! " cried Fane, springing to his feet. " Come 
 on ! " And never heeding, never hearing, perhaps, Do- 
 lan s restraining plea, never thinking now of personal risk 
 or possible ambush, the young officer, followed by four or 
 five still active and uninjured men, carbines in hand, went 
 bounding down the slope. " My God," moaned the ser 
 geant. " It may be only a trick, and we haven t five shots 
 left apiece ! " And still he, too, found his feet and went 
 reeling after them. 
 
 With a yell of vengeance and fury, the little party 
 dashed straight as the rocks would permit toward that 
 dead yet summoning mask. Four seconds took them 
 forty feet on their way. Then suddenly, down went the 
 bloody, sightless head, jerked from behind; some savage 
 Apache, even in flight, seeking to take his fearful trophy 
 with him. Then a dark form appeared one instant, fifty 
 yards ahead, and three carbines barked almost in unison, 
 
ONLY JUST IN TIME 57 
 
 and missed. But on rushed the shouting troopers. Back 
 came the answering shout, and almost before they knew 
 it, they were once again halfway down the slope, again 
 the center of at least a partially encircling, if hurried and 
 ill-aimed fire. One Indian, and only one, they felled close 
 to the bowlder where lay the poor butchered remnants; 
 where lay, too, the severed head ; but by this time reason 
 had resumed her sway and Fane s wits were again about 
 him. " Halt and kneel ! " he shouted. " Hold your shots 
 until you see an Indian ! " and even as he glanced about 
 him to enforce his order, before himself seeking shelter, 
 a sudden numbness seized his left arm, a sudden gush of 
 blood soaked the blue flannel sleeve. Something had torn 
 through the bone only just below the shoulder and, broken 
 short off, the now useless member dangled dripping at 
 his side. , 
 
 Oh, well for Fane and his raging followers that it was 
 no mere Indian trick to lure them forth, then surround 
 and finish them ! Oh, well for him and his that the mur 
 mured prayer had indeed been answered from on High ! 
 Even as he crouched behind the granite bowlder, half dis 
 posed to curse his boyish folly, the exultant shout came 
 ringing from the cedars : " It s the captain, fellers the 
 
 captain and the hull d d caboodle ! Hurray ! " If 
 
 confirmation were needed they could find it in the sound 
 of distant shots, of distant cheering, in the sight of stream 
 ing breechclouts down the southward slope and across the 
 road. Only a few more missiles, mere Parthian arrows, 
 
58 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 came whizzing and hurtling back, unaimed, unnoted, and 
 their tormentors of the two long nights and days were 
 fast scurrying out of range, and then from a distance, 
 with beady, hate-burning eyes, watching the reunion of 
 soldier comrades, rescued and rescuers, among the bloody 
 sands and burning rocks of Tonto Pass. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 
 
 TOUCHING that matter of the relief and rescue 
 of Lieutenant Fane s command, there was much 
 misunderstanding at the time, and much mis- 
 statement afterwards, in which, as finally established by 
 patient and impartial investigation, " Quid Spigots " had 
 led off with magnificent, though as he would have it, 
 unconscious mendacity. 
 
 Lafferty had succeeded, after much peril, some suffer 
 ing, and more delay, in reaching the fort in the dead of 
 night the second night after his morning start in the 
 starlight. From the sentry at the stables he learned that 
 Captain Turner, with two subalterns and all the available 
 cavalry at the post, had been sent forth by the major com 
 manding to gather in, coax and bring back the refugees 
 from the reservation, for whom, indeed, the major was 
 responsible, and of whom an astute agent declared, " They 
 are simply frightened away by the threats and bullyings 
 of the soldiers of the guard." And " Spigots " professed 
 to believe him. 
 
 Turner had been gone forty-eight hours when Lafferty 
 arrived. Turner had theories of his own as to whether 
 the renegades were drawn or driven, but he wisely sup- 
 
 59 
 
60 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 pressed them until beyond probability of recall to the post. 
 Then he took his officers and certain sergeants into his 
 confidence. He also took another trail. Southwest from 
 the San Carlos had the Indians flitted to Tonto Pass, 
 where they concentrated along the road to Danger Canon. 
 Southwestward from the post, and until well beyond 
 Sombrero Peak, Turner obediently followed his instruc 
 tions and the same road. Then, halting for a few hours 
 to rest and bait his men and horses, he bade one of the 
 most trustworthy non-commissioned officers to take the 
 binocular and keep a sharp lookout for signal fires any 
 where about the Peak, now several miles to their right 
 rear; also for answering signals from the opposite and 
 more distant range to the west. This done, Turner com 
 posed himself to sleep. Three hours later he was up and 
 listening with all apparent gravity to Sergeant Hickey s 
 report, and Hickey was a regimental celebrity. 
 
 " Two fires at the Peak, sorr, and two way up yonder 
 in the Sierra." 
 
 " Sure, sergeant ? " asked Turner. " We may have to 
 swear to it." 
 
 " Sure, sorr ; swear to it on a stack of bibles if the 
 captain says so." 
 
 " Sure," he muttered to himself and to others of his 
 coterie, a moment later, with his tongue in his cheek and 
 a wink in his eye. " Sure as I know Corp-ril Gribble was 
 sint to start em at the Peak leastwise, an that was 
 enough to start em all over the Sierra." 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 61 
 
 " Sierra be d d, Hickey! " laughed Sergeant Wells. 
 
 " Did you see e er a blaze northwest of Sombrero where 
 the ould man pointed?" And Wells was beginning to 
 see why Gribble, with three followers, had been sent off to 
 the right front ten hours earlier, when the Peak loomed 
 due west. 
 
 " Why wouldn t I, Wells, wid Collins an his hand glass 
 glintin into the big end of the binocular? " and there was 
 a shout from his listeners. 
 
 Now, Turner s orders read : " Follow the trail of the 
 Indians reported to have taken the road through Tonto 
 Pass, unless there should be indications that they have 
 crossed the Salado and are making for the Matitzal." 
 But Turner s long experience in Apache land had taught 
 him that to follow on that trail meant simply to keep an 
 overwhelming band of warriors, actuated by some sud 
 den and vehement impulse, between him and the little 
 detachment earlier sent forth under Fane. Turner knew 
 that Fane would probably seek to return by the Pass, that 
 he would therefore stand every chance of being held up 
 somewhere between the Coyotero where he had been 
 warned not to stop and the crest of the Sierra. The In 
 dians had abundant force, not only to surround Fane, but 
 to render that Pass impassable to Turner, even though 
 Turner had eighty men. There was just one way, in his 
 judgment, to reach his lieutenant, and then, from the west, 
 to turn on the renegades and drive, not coax, them back. 
 That way was to quit the road in fine, to disregard the 
 
62 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 major s injunction to keep his command ever as a screen 
 between the hostiles in the Sierra and the little garrison 
 at the post. The old trail to the Tonto Creek and Wild 
 Rye country led northwest from the nearby crossing of 
 the Salado. Now, if only " indications " of some kind 
 could be discovered warranting the theory that the bulk 
 of the Indians had turned that way, after reaching the 
 Sierra, there might be plain sailing. Therefore the halt 
 to rest and reconnoiter. Therefore the doubled fires at 
 the Peak. Therefore Sergeant Hickey s report that an 
 swering signals had been discovered up the range, 
 and that he had not seen one to the south and south 
 west. 
 
 " Why would I," grinned Hickey, later, " wid Collin s 
 caubeen between the Sierra an the spy glass ? " 
 
 By dawn, therefore, the second full day out, Turner, 
 with four score seasoned troopers had, all unopposed, 
 pierced the range ten miles north of Tonto Pass, had 
 reached the Coyotero slope, and then turning sharp to the 
 southward, made his way toward the scene of Fane s 
 desperate fight for life, and got there, indeed, not one 
 moment too soon. 
 
 With what followed afield this story has little to do. 
 Leaving a surgeon, a small guard, and abundant supplies 
 with the rescued, and giving himself barely time for 
 words, either of congratulation or commiseration, the cap 
 tain pushed on after the Apaches, most of them only too 
 glad by this time to hark back to shelter and something to 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 63 
 
 eat. Dr. Evans gathered up the wounded officers and 
 troopers, had them borne down to the tanks for temporary 
 relief, and by nightfall saw them all in a bivouac a mile 
 farther on, where a spring-fed brook came rushing down 
 the rocks, and there had they to remain and rest in the 
 pure mountain air until litters could be made and pack 
 mules spared and sent back from Turner s command. 
 
 Meanwhile there was tribulation at the fort. " Old 
 Spigots " was manifestly in the throes of blue funk. On 
 the one hand he feared an Indian assault on the post ; on 
 the other a general raking over from the department and 
 division commanders. The worst outbreak of years had 
 occurred right here within his martial bailiwick, and he 
 had done nothing to prevent it. 
 
 True, he had had scant word of warning. The first 
 news of trouble came through stampeded prospectors. It 
 was their account of the deviltry beyond Danger Canon 
 that, mentally discounted about fifty per cent., induced 
 him to order out a half troop, and later to cut that down 
 to a lieutenant and twenty men. It was not until two 
 days after Fane s departure that vigorous cross-question 
 ing of the agent developed the fact that perhaps a dozen 
 young braves had been gone a week, overstaying their 
 hunting pass. 
 
 It was not until Fane had been gone five days that 
 official confirmation was given to rumors of a hubbub 
 at the Agency. It was not until the sixth day that 
 Spigots was appealed to by the agent to recover his 
 
64 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 lost children, who to the number of two hundred or more, 
 as now admitted, had fled to the westward mountains " in 
 terror of the soldiery on guard/ ; The agent did not even 
 then confide to the major commanding that runners had 
 come with news of a fight with Fane s party and the cap 
 ture of " big chief " Solalay. Turner and his four score 
 men were out of reach beyond Sombrero Peak when at 
 last that story was communicated, and the soul of Major 
 Spigots overflowed in rejoicing and the composition 
 of a despatch, sent within the hour to the commanding 
 officer at Camp Sandy, seventy-five miles to the north 
 west. 
 
 Sandy was regimental headquarters, Colonel Pelham in 
 command. Sandy had sent forth scout after scout, some 
 times invading what Spigots s jealousy held to be his own 
 territory. Sandy had accomplished much and Sandy s 
 crack scout leaders, men like Major Stannard, Captain 
 Tanner, and Lieutenant Ray, had hit the Apaches time 
 and again, winning the thanks and praise of the general 
 commanding the department and no end of credit for their 
 post and regiment. Spigots, the senior major, mortally 
 jealous of Stannard and envious of his colonel, had failed 
 to utilize certain opportunities; had been inferentially 
 criticised for lack of energy, and not infrequently referred 
 to as not only cold blooded but " cold footed," and " cold 
 feet " in the army sense is a state or condition in no wise 
 dependent on the temperature of the vital fluid or discov 
 erable by the clinical thermometer. Pelham s people would 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 65 
 
 have given half their worldly possessions to capture 
 Solalay. It would cap the climax of their brilliant 
 exploits. 
 
 They had tried time and again without success. It had 
 remained for him, Spigots, the weak brother, the inert, to 
 secure the richest prize, and therefore to expect the chief 
 reward of the entire campaign as the virtual captor of the 
 most dreaded Indian in the game, and Spigots almost 
 shouted aloud in the joy that possessed him when he 
 reflected that, through Pelham himself, the announce 
 ment must reach Department Headquarters. 
 
 By swift and oft-tried runner his despatch should go 
 forthwith. Toyah, who knew every trail of the Tonto 
 Basin and the Black Mesa Toyah, to whom Hardscrab- 
 ble and the deep gorges of the East Fork and Granite 
 Creek were but crevices in the face of the land Toyah 
 who had guided General Crook, the Gray Fox, all over 
 the territory east of the Hassayampa and had borne his 
 messages at tireless dogtrot sixty miles a day Toyah 
 could be counted on to place that despatch in Pelham s 
 hands before the setting of the second sun. Pelham 
 would send his courier, loping by night through Cherry 
 Creek and the Agua Fria, landing the precious missive 
 at Crook s headquarters by sunrise, so that within forty- 
 eight hours the glad tidings should be trumpeted about 
 Prescott and Whipple Barracks, and he, Spigots, be 
 hailed as the man of the hour, the successful general of 
 the long campaign. 
 
66 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 And that document was almost as modest as it was 
 misleading : 
 
 ADJUTANT GENERAL, 
 
 HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF ARIZONA: 
 Sir: I have the honor to report that on the 6th instant I 
 received notification that hostile Indians were raiding to the 
 west of Danger Canon; that they had murdered several pros 
 pectors and the occupants of Hogan s Ranch. Although Camp 
 McDowell is much nearer the scene of these outrages, I deemed 
 it my duty to send cavalry in that direction for the purpose of 
 intercepting and arresting participants who, in fear of meeting 
 strong force from McDowell, would probably seek refuge in the 
 Sierra Ancha. The fact that Solalay had been reported in the 
 Verde Valley was another incentive, and it is with gratifica 
 tion that I am able to report that, through the energy of the 
 cavalry commands acting under my orders, Solalay himself, 
 with several members of his family, has been captured alive, 
 after a sharp engagement in Danger Canon, and is now on the 
 way to this post under secure guard. The information conies 
 through the agency itself, where intense excitement has pre 
 vailed for twenty-four hours past. Captain Turner is still 
 afield, with his entire command, but will be recalled, as the In 
 dian agent thinks it possible that an attack in force may follow 
 in the hope of releasing this hitherto intractable chief and leader. 
 I am sending this by runner via Camp Sandy, and will add 
 further particulars as soon as it is possible to do so. 
 Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 JOHN S. PIGGOTT, 
 Major th Cavalry Commanding. 
 
 " There," said Spigots to his silent adjutant, as the 
 clerk finished the copies, " that will forestall any story 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 67 
 
 about the stampede from the reservation! Let Toyah 
 start at once, with orders to make Sandy before sunset 
 to-morrow." The despatch was folded in oiled silk, 
 tagged " Commanding officer, Camp Sandy, please read 
 and forward." Spigots chuckled over the chagrin Pel- 
 ham must feel that all his efforts to " nail " Solalay had 
 proved abortive, while he, Spigots, had succeeded. " And 
 now," said he, " we will send over to the Pass for Turner, 
 and tell him to bring in Fane and the prisoners." 
 
 That was about noon on the I2th day of the month. 
 Then came the I3th, the ill-omened date in the eyes of 
 many, especially when it came, as it did this I3th, on a 
 Friday. The new day was barely ten minutes old, the 
 sentries had barely ceased the midnight call, when the 
 sergeant of the guard, escorting a nearly exhausted non 
 commissioned officer of cavalry, stirred up the post adju 
 tant, who listened to Corporal Lafferty s tale while tug 
 ging at his boot straps. Then they went and knocked 
 at the major s, whereupon Spigots himself appeared at a 
 first-floor window (there was no second), and listened, 
 impatient. 
 
 " But they hung onto the prisoners they ve got 
 Solalay?" he burst in, all anxiety on that point at 
 least. 
 
 " They had em up to the time I left, sir," said Lafferty, 
 " though I didn t get to hear the names of em but un 
 less help could come mighty quick they couldn t hold em, 
 or anything." 
 
68 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " Well, you met Captain Turner, of course, and warned 
 him. He went by road direct." And with one leg in 
 his trousers and the other poised, Spigots breathlessly 
 awaited the answer. 
 
 " I couldn t come by road, sir. There was Patchies 
 everywhere. I skirted round north o Sombrero an 
 didn t seem to see anything but Injuns an signal fires 
 till the sentinel held me up at the haystacks." 
 
 Major Piggott leaned his arms against the window 
 frame and buried his head upon his arms. " Go for the 
 officer-of-the-day, sergeant," he moaned despairingly. 
 " My God, man ! " he added, for Lafferty s benefit, or his 
 own, " it isn t twelve hours since I sent off a despatch to 
 say we d got Solalay and his people, and now, like as not, 
 they ve got us." 
 
 To this sentiment the trooper made no reply. He was 
 worn, weary, and hungry. Thirst, thanks to the brim 
 ming ollas at the guardhouse, had already been assuaged, 
 but there was still room for a comforting nip, and the 
 major had ever a well-filled demijohn from which the 
 bearer of good news went seldom unrewarded. To-night, 
 however, the commander was in anything but benevolent 
 mood. He nervously finished his hurried toilet, thinking 
 far less of Fane s peril than of his own plight. If, after all, 
 Fane and his little party should have been compelled to re 
 lease their captives, would not he be blamed for having 
 sent him forth with so small, so pitiably small, a command ! 
 And if Turner should not have succeeded in reaching the 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 69 
 
 besieged in time and they should be annihilated what 
 wouldn t the general say! In sore perturbation Piggott 
 came forth into the moonlight and, never noting the weary 
 messenger, took his signal glasses and a long look at the 
 densely wooded heights far away to the northwest, as 
 though in search of tidings. 
 
 Surely enough. Late as it was, a signal torch was 
 slowly swinging to and fro, giving the call " Attention ! 
 News ! " and now, excitement adding to his worries, Pig 
 gott turned to Lafferty, who had seated himself at the 
 edge of the board walk, his elbows on his knees, his face 
 in his hands, and was now toppling over in the sleep of 
 utter exhaustion. " Here, wake up, man ! " cried the 
 Major. " This is no time for sleeping ! Run and call the 
 signal sergeant ! Tell him to bring his kit ! Tell him to 
 come like a shot ! " And as LafTerty stumbled half blindly 
 away Piggott feverishly resumed his stare at the distant 
 agency. Just as he feared, there was a blaze among the 
 timber far up the range. There was another far over to 
 the southwest at the very apex of Sombrero Peak. 
 
 And then came the sergeant of the guard piloting the 
 officer-of-the-day, and in that officer Piggott knew he 
 need look for neither sympathy nor consolation. A soldier 
 every inch of him was Captain Hazlett of the Infantry 
 a man who held his tongue and temper both in leash and 
 did his duty, a man who knew more about the Apache 
 and Apache land than Piggott probably could ever learn. 
 They had rubbed each other s fur the wrong way from 
 
70 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the first week of their association at the post. Piggott was 
 timid, irresolute, vacillating. Hazlett was "vigorous 
 in speech: in action prompt and bold." Hazlett "had 
 no use," he frankly said, for the Indian agent at 
 the reservation. Piggott was afraid of him, because 
 that functionary of the Bureau had what Piggott sorely 
 desired influence. There had been controversy between 
 Hazlett and the agent over the latter s injustice to a ser 
 geant on duty with the agency guard. Piggott decided 
 in the agent s favor, and found, inside of six days that he 
 had decided wrong. He should have set the sergeant 
 right at once and officially, but he temporized and dodged. 
 The sergeant had returned to his company, hurt and hu 
 miliated. The whole command sided with the sergeant, 
 but had to " side " in silence. Piggott sought the support 
 of his next in cavalry rank, Captain Turner, and Turner 
 told him frankly that Hazlett had known that agent three 
 long years before he, Piggott, ever saw him, and, knowing 
 Hazlett s reputation and having been warned as to that 
 of the agent, Piggott should have known better than to 
 decide as he did. Then instead of sending for both Haz 
 lett and his aggrieved sergeant and making manly repa 
 ration, the major sulked in his tent and swore there was 
 no more loyalty in the cavalry. 
 
 And now it was Captain Hazlett himself who came 
 striding up the board walk in the faint and silvery moon 
 light. It was Sergeant Craig, erstwhile of the agency 
 guard, who came bounding over the acequias that bor- 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 71 
 
 dered the parade, followed by two active fellow soldiers, 
 bearing their long torch wands and the paraphernalia for 
 night signaling. Not for a year had there been a sum 
 mons at such an hour. Captain and sergeant both 
 well knew how the major had insisted that the original 
 stories were exaggerated; had refused to believe the re 
 ports of outlying sentries and patrols to the effect that 
 Indians by the dozen were leaving the reservation and 
 slipping southwestward. And now it had fallen to their 
 lot to be witness and transmitter, respectively, of impor 
 tant message coming in at the dead of night ; one, more 
 over, that could only add sorely to Piggott s discomfiture. 
 
 " See what they want as quick as you can, sergeant," 
 he cried in nervous haste, " They may have been waving 
 an hour. Sentries can hardly see that torch with the 
 naked eye. Certainly I can t." 
 
 " Sentry No. 3 did see it, sir," observed Captain Haz- 
 lett very quietly. " He had just reported it when the 
 adjutant came for me. I doubt their having swung more 
 than a very few minutes." 
 
 Meantime Craig and his men, bending over their kits, 
 had been busily at work. Presently at the tip of a long, 
 jointed staff a copper torch was firmly set, the match 
 applied, and a bright flame burst on the night. Then up 
 it went to the vertical in the strong grasp of a tall in 
 fantryman. "Answer at once. Never mind the rest," 
 said the captain, while his men went on setting foot torch 
 and flame shades, and then as the post adjutant, bringing 
 
72 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 his own glasses, came hurrying back to join them, with 
 powerful sweep the long torch was whirled swiftly down 
 twice in quick succession to the bearer s left; twice 
 again; twice a third time; then from the vertical it sank 
 slowly to earth directly in front. " 22-22-22-3 " it sig 
 naled. " All right. We see you. We re ready. Go 
 ahead with your message," it said. And, though it was 
 all Greek to him, Piggott gazed through his binocular; 
 the adjutant brought his glass to bear, while the sergeant 
 steadied the long telescope against a tree box, and sta 
 tioned one man, with pad and pencil, to record the mes 
 sage as it fell from the receiver s lips. In breathless silence 
 all watched and waited, listening intently. A moment of 
 silence and the sergeant began slowly to speak. " Be 
 ready, Klein," he murmured, to the recorder. " Here it 
 comes." 
 
 Only those who had glasses, and good ones, so great 
 was the distance, could follow the swift, tiny, sparklike 
 circling of the little red spot against the black background 
 of the Mesa. Craig s lips began to twitch again. " To 
 Commanding Officer," said he. " That s easy. Now ! 
 S-o-l-a-l-a-y (Three) e-s-c-a-p-e-d. (Three three) 
 I-n-d-i-a-n-s (Three) s-a-y (Three) n-o-w (Three) 
 s-a-f-e (Three) S-i-e-r-r-a (Three) B-1-a-n-c-a (Three 
 three). F-a-n-e (Three) a-n-d (three) a-1-1 (Three) 
 d-e-c-1-a-r-e-d (Three) k-i-1-l-e-d (Three three). Sig. 
 Waters, Agt. (Three three three)," concluded the ser 
 geant, with professional gravity. " Up, Smith ! Acknow- 
 
NIGHT SIGNALS FROM THE AGENCY 73 
 
 ledge ! " And while the signal man slowly swung the 
 message " We understand," with misery in his trembling 
 voice the major turned to Captain Hazlett. 
 
 " Can you believe that possible?" 
 
 " Quite, sir," said Hazlett dryly, " if Turner obeyed 
 the orders I hear were given him," which was as near 
 to insubordination as Hazlett had ever been known to go,, 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 
 
 BTJT Turner, as we know, had found means of dis 
 regarding orders, of getting around and beyond 
 the interposing Indians, of succoring Fane, and 
 then of herding homeward the renegades. We know, too, 
 that Fane and some, at least, of his people, though sorely 
 hammered, were not killed, but it was two days before the 
 modified comfort of this assurance reached the post com 
 mander, who meantime, fortunately, sent no further de 
 spatch. " Bad news travels fast enough," said he. " And 
 I do not feel justified in risking couriers through hostile 
 Indian country until positive information is secured." 
 Hazlett, to whom this was imparted, bowed solemnly and 
 said nothing. The hostiles were almost as numerous and 
 much more hostile when Toyah was despatched with 
 tidings that were based on no better authority, but 
 Toyah bore announcement that would vastly benefit Pig- 
 gott in point of professional reputation, and Piggott could 
 carry much more of such report in his favor without 
 being overburdened. 
 
 There were few women at this distant, isolated post, 
 to which the mail came but once a week, and that by 
 buckboard from the Gila Valley. Two brave army women 
 
 74 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 75 
 
 had followed officer husbands in exile, Mrs. Hazlett and 
 Mrs. Gregg Turner s wife preferring to winter in San 
 Francisco, at least until he could get transferred to Sandy, 
 where there were comfortable quarters, and they were 
 only a day s ride from Prescott, Fort Whipple, and lots of 
 army gayety. But in gentle Mrs. Hazlett young Fane 
 had already found a kind and helpful friend. The cap 
 tain had served under General Fane in the Army of the 
 Cumberland ; had welcomed the son for the sake of the 
 father, and had begun to like him for his own. There 
 was no way of cross-questioning the agent s authorities as 
 to the direful story told. Moreover, as a result of three 
 years study of Apache characteristics, Hazlett had 
 learned to place more reliance on their bald statements 
 than upon the embroidered tales of the average settler. 
 That Solalay had been captured and had later managed 
 to escape, Hazlett fully believed. That Fane and his party 
 had been massacre^ to a man he regarded as more than 
 probable. The sudden hegira of three hundred braves 
 could only have been caused by some such stirring 
 emergency as the attempt to wrest a noted chief from the 
 hands of his captors. That many or most of them were 
 already back again went far to prove that, one way or 
 another, their mission was ended; that with confidence 
 the agent could signal that Solalay had escaped and was 
 safe in the wilds of the Sierra Blanca added to Hazlett s 
 firm conviction of the truth of the story. As for the rest 
 of it, the doctrine of probabilities ruled in its favor. What 
 
76 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 chance had Fane and his little party, surrounded among 
 the rocks of the Sierra by ten times his force in foes? 
 It was with sad heart that Hazlett ventured home at three 
 in the morning, praying she might be asleep, and well 
 knowing she would not be. She was up and had coffee 
 ready for him, and his campaign kit spread out upon the 
 bed, and had closed the door to the childrens room lest 
 they should wake and hear and be terrified; and from 
 passing members of the guard she had heard the story 
 and so spared him the sorrow of having to tell it. She 
 met him with fond arms and kiss at the doorway to their 
 little army home, and drew him within and hung his 
 sword and belt upon their accustomed hook. " I heard 
 it from one of our men," said she. " But I shall not 
 believe it yet. Will you be sent out do you think ? " 
 
 " No one will be sent out," he answered, drawing her 
 within the clasp of his strong arms, " no one, that is, ex 
 cept the couriers to call in all that are out even the hay 
 cutters, even the big guard at the Fork. Nell, how thank 
 ful I am we have no telegraph ! " 
 
 " Then you think it true ? " she questioned, her brave 
 eyes swimming, her lips quivering despite every effort at 
 self-control. 
 
 " I fear so, unless Turner ignored his orders." 
 
 Two big tears began to trickle down her sun-burnecl 
 cheeks. They were heroines, these army women of " the 
 days of the Empire " the early days of the conversion of 
 the Apache. Privation they could and did endure ; death 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 77 
 
 they dared, but complexions they sacrificed some of 
 them irrevocably to marital love and devotion. The 
 woman of the Orient blackens her teeth to prove her 
 loyalty to the lord of her bosom. It is left for the 
 army wife to tan her own skin. Madame Yale was then 
 unknown. Cold cream would speedily have become hot 
 and spoiled, and similar preparations could never have 
 survived a week of that fierce, furnace-like heat. The 
 only balm that never lost its power to soothe was the kiss 
 of love, gratitude and unchanging admiration that re 
 warded, if it could not quite repay, the lavish tribute of a 
 wife s devotion. Nell Hazlett, sure of her soldier hus 
 band s heart and soul, was a happy woman even in her 
 isolation, save when, as now, she had to think of other 
 women s sorrows, and more than all others she was think 
 ing now of Ronald Fane s mother and sisters, of whom 
 he had talked to her every day and evening since his 
 coming to the post six weeks before, and of Ronald 
 Fane s sweetheart, of whom he had only just begun to 
 talk within the week that saw him sent forth to his 
 soldier duty to, perhaps, his soldier fate. 
 
 " He left certain things in my care," she murmured, 
 nestling her chair close beside his own, after pouring his 
 coffee. It lacked still three hours of dawn, but well 
 she knew that he would not now rest, or remove his 
 clothes, until relieved from guard. " And he asked me to 
 take especial care of certain letters, and to write to her if 
 he didn t come back. You know how eager he was to go 
 
78 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 at first, and then how he came to us just before the start 
 after Captain Turner had been talking with him." 
 
 " I know," said Hazlett gravely. He had been thinking 
 of just that same matter of Fane s grave and anxious 
 face as he came from that last conference with his cap 
 tain. 
 
 " Well, dear, the letters came yesterday, three of 
 them, all postmarked Lenox, within ten days of each 
 other. It is going to be hard to have to write to her." 
 
 " Do you suppose there is an engagement ? " he asked. 
 
 " He said no, but think three letters in nine days, and 
 in the height o a social season, and she a belle and much 
 sought after." 
 
 Hazlett finished his coffee, and pushed back his chair 
 He was thinking deeply, painfully, and yet his arm en 
 circled and drew her to his side. " I, too, have a letter, 
 tzvo letters in fact, only I haven t liked to speak of them 
 as yet. I did not see my way. I hoped Fane didn t care 
 so much for for well, I suppose it s the same girl." 
 
 " Why ? " and her eyes opened wide as she turned her 
 face full upon him. 
 
 " Oh, it s nothing against her!" he began in haste, for 
 the tone of the question told the trend of her thought. 
 " At least well, it s from the general, his father. Col 
 onel s pay, you know, doesn t go far at Fort Adams when 
 wife and daughters delight in the Casino and Society." 
 
 " But I thought he, or she, or both of them, had money." 
 
 " That s just it. That s just the worst of it," answered 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 79 
 
 Hazlett gravely " If they d never had it, and had been 
 bred to self-denial and simple living it wouldn t be so 
 hard. Nell, dear, Mrs. Fane has never been a Mrs. Haz 
 lett, and now the dear old fellow is worrying his heart 
 out over the situation. Her money, what there was of it, 
 went five years ago. His hasn t been enough to supply 
 the demand. Now he s a poor man, with a wife and 
 daughters richly endowed in the extravagances of life. 
 He has heard fabulous tales of Arizona mines that led 
 to his letters. Then he began to open his heart. He says 
 there s only a little life insurance ; that he can t live many 
 years ; that his boy may have to look out for the mother 
 and some of the sisters, and he fears Ronald has fallen 
 in love. Bad as that was, how infinitely worse will it be 
 if we ve lost him entirely." 
 
 She bowed her head upon the broad shoulder, with its 
 worn old strap of tarnished gold and pallid blue. " Fallen 
 in love ! " she cried. " Why, Ned, he almost worships that 
 girl, I believe ! What s more, I believe she cares for him, 
 Listen ! There s someone running ? " 
 
 Hazlett was first at the door, his young wife close fol 
 lowing. Somebody was running, running swiftly, up the 
 gentle slope toward the commanding officer s, at whose 
 window a light was dimly burning. Other lights were 
 blinking in the low log barracks across the quadrangle 
 and down at the loop-holed guardhouse where, in the 
 faint moonbeams, half a dozen dark forms were huddled 
 in a bunch. Hazlett quickly buckled on his sword belt 
 
80 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and, with a reassuring word, left her at the doorway. 
 News of some kind, he argued, must have come, and he 
 preferred to get it first hand rather than through the 
 medium of the post commander. 
 
 Two Apaches, somewhat bedraggled but by no means 
 betraying anxiety or fear, stood in front of the guard 
 house porch, surrounded by several men of the guard. 
 To Hazlett s question, " What have we here ? " after being 
 " advanced " by the corporal of the third relief, the ser 
 geant came forward and reported. 
 
 " Lieutenant Hunter of San Carlos, just back from his 
 scout, sir, sent these two beggars in because what they 
 told might be true. He picked them up on the lower 
 Salado. Corporal Speed, who brought them in, says they 
 want to swap news for something to eat. They had 
 nothing but hardtack, so they sent em here. This one 
 speaks Spanish, he says, and as far as I can make out he 
 will talk if we ll feed him. The company cooks are just 
 being called, sir, and I thought it worth trying. Corporal 
 Linck went on the run for the trader. He talks Spanish 
 and Tatchie both. I told him to tell the major." 
 
 But Hazlett could not wait. He turned on the first and 
 nearest. " Qmere comer? " he asked, in the vernacular of 
 the land. The Indian simply nodded. He had been long 
 schooled to waiting. His news was marketable, as he 
 well understood, and would fetch its price. " Tell our 
 cooks to heat some hash, quick, and send a lot of it here 
 and bread and coffee," said the captain, to the drummer 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 81 
 
 of the guard, and the little chap started instantly and at 
 speed. The Apache noted, though without a sign. " Gran 
 Capitan s " word was good enough for him. Then Haz- 
 lett turned on him again, and again with the lingo of the 
 far southwest the lengua Castellana crossed with the 
 heathen dialect of the Tonto Apache : 
 
 "Sabe T entente Chiquito Fane ? " 
 
 A nod was the instant answer. 
 
 "Mvtrtof 
 
 A shake of the shaggy black head. Then four grimy 
 ringers were uplifted. 
 
 "What? Cuatrof Solamente Cuatro?" questioned 
 Hazlett, hopefully, eagerly. " Only four killed ? " 
 
 " My God ! " muttered the sergeant, forgetful of disci 
 pline in the access of relief and joy. " He says only four 
 are killed only four, and the lieutenant not one of them. 
 Go fetch him a tubful, Johnny. He shall eat till he busts, 
 if I have to go hungry." 
 
 And then the polyglot trader and the first relay of ra 
 tions arrived together. The ravenous Indians fell to at 
 the trenchers, and for a few minutes only guttural 
 monosyllables could be extracted from either. Hazlett 
 hastened back to his quarters, his first thought for 
 Nell. 
 
 She was waiting at the door and almost sobbed aloud at 
 his joyous words " I believe Fane is safe, and that but 
 few were killed. Hunter sent in two Tontos men whom 
 he caught down the Salado." At sight of the major s 
 
82 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 hurrying form Hazlett stepped one moment inside the 
 door. Probably he would have done so anyway. Then 
 hastened back to the group. Poole, the trader, turned 
 promptly to him, which was uncomplimentary to the com 
 manding officer, but he had known and respected Hazlett 
 three long years. He had not yet learned to respect his 
 post commander. 
 
 These fellows tell it straight, captain/ said he. " Fane 
 was corraled in the Pass, they say, and fought like hell. 
 Four soldiers were killed, and a lot of Indians. Solalay 
 and his people all got away. Solalay wounded, but able 
 to travel. He s far out of reach by this time." 
 
 And in this way came the earliest reports to the little 
 garrison of the serious affair in which so many comrades 
 had been engaged, and in the course of which, doubtless, 
 others, too, had fallen, painfully wounded if not done to 
 death. There was little sleep the remaining hours of the 
 night, for either officer or man. Any moment might 
 bring further signals from the agency, any hour be 
 fraught with tidings from the field. Piggott ordered the 
 sentries doubled, the outposts reinforced, the infantry 
 under arms. " Knowing our depleted strength," said he, 
 "it might occur to the Apaches that now would be a 
 capital time to attack the post." Hazlett mustered his 
 men without a word of reply. " Knowing," said he, to 
 himself, " that Turner and his troopers were close at their 
 heels, the Apaches probably were making the best time of 
 which they were capable, getting back to the agency," 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 83 
 
 and, once out of the valleys and into the rocks the Apache 
 afoot could make two miles to the troopers one. Dozens, 
 as they knew, were already back. Dozens more were 
 coming, and just at dawn the outlying pickets heard afar 
 off to the northwest the soft, yet stirring peal of the cav 
 alry trumpet and the crackle of carbine and rifle. 
 Turner s fellows had caught up with a lot of laggards, 
 possibly conveying Indian wounded, while still in the flats 
 of the Salado, and were teaching them the error of their 
 ways. 
 
 Then it could not be long before there came official 
 tidings from the seat of war. It was not. The drums 
 and fifes played their perfunctory reveille at six o clock 
 to a garrison already wide awake, and the lookout at the 
 quartermaster s stables shouted, " Couriers coming from 
 the west ! " 
 
 They proved to be Sergeant Hickey, of Turner s troop, 
 and two men, with spent and nearly shoeless horses, with 
 " the captain s compliments, and he was rounding up the 
 last of the renegades and hadn t time to write." He had 
 forty prisoners, mostly wounded Tontos and Sierra 
 Blancas, and would return to the post by easy marches as 
 soon as he had turned over his victims, as orders re 
 quired, to the guard at the agency. Before the wearied 
 men could stable their horses or get a mouthful to eat, 
 the major demanded full account of the situation, and 
 then at last the suspense was ended and the tale of the 
 Tontos, as told by Trader Poole, was verified, and more. 
 
84 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Farnham, Schmidt, Welch and Sinclair were the four the 
 Indians knew to be dead, and dismembered, though the 
 latter fact had not hitherto been mentioned. It was left 
 to Hickey and his fellows to tell the rest that for forty- 
 eight hours Fane s little force had stood off perhaps thirty 
 times their weight in mountain Apaches; that Doyle and 
 Murray had died of their dreadful wounds ; that Hayden s 
 leg was broken, and he was half dead; that Fuller and 
 Higgins were very low; that Dolan, Sutton, Field and 
 Mullins had been painfully, and almost all the others 
 slightly, wounded, and that Lieutenant Fane himself was 
 nearly blinded from inflammation resulting from a gash 
 along the eyebrows, and that his left arm was shattered 
 close to the shoulder. Dr. Evans had said " Teniente 
 Chiquito " would probably never be able to spar again. 
 
 " But what s this about Solalay and other Indians escap 
 ing? How did that happen?" asked Major Piggott, 
 whereat it is said old Hickey looked dazed for a moment 
 before he answered. " We niver axed about that, sorr, 
 when we saw the fix they were in. The wonder was how 
 our fellows escaped, e er a one of em, wid so much as a 
 piece of his skin." 
 
 But this was the despatch Major Piggott sent the next 
 day, and by way of McDowell this time, for now he had 
 nothing to boast of. This was the despatch the clerks at 
 post headquarters used to show, as its copy stood for 
 weeks in the " Letters Sent " book, to comrades who could 
 hardly believe their eyes, especially such comrades as 
 
AS THE MAJOR TOLD IT 85 
 
 Dolan, Scott and Fuller when Fuller was able to be up 
 and about again, and that little Hayden came limping 
 over from the hospital to see, some six weeks later, and 
 seeing said things that might have cost him six months 
 pay and concomitant hard labor in charge of the guard. 
 This was the letter, report, dispatch or whatever it might 
 be termed that, in his bitterness and chagrin, " Ould 
 Spigots " sent on to Department Headquarters, without 
 requesting the commanding officer of McDowell to open 
 and read, but sealed against such intrusion, and this was 
 the report that, in garbled form, got into the columns of 
 the California press, and in condensed and worse form 
 into the telegraphic news from the Pacific slope as re 
 produced in the journals of the Atlantic and Middle 
 States : 
 
 FORT PLUMA BLANCA, A. T., 
 
 November I5th, 187, 
 ASSISTANT ADJUTANT GENERAL, 
 
 HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF ARIZONA, 
 
 WHIPPLE BARRACKS, PRESCOTT. 
 
 Sir: I regret to be compelled to announce that, after their bril 
 liant capture by the cavalry from this post while acting under my 
 instructions, Chief Solalay and the Indian renegades under 
 charge of Lieutenant Fane, th Cavalry, who had a strong 
 guard, succeeded in making their escape and are still at large. 
 Captain Turner, with eighty men, is in pursuit, and I cannot 
 but hope that this energetic officer may succeed in recapturing 
 such dangerous and desperate characters. Lieutenant Fane 
 appears to have led his men into an ambuscade, in which sev 
 eral were killed and many, including himself, were more or 
 
86 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 less severely wounded. I have sent surgeons, ambulance, attend 
 ants, etc., with pack mules, to Tonto Pass, and will report fur 
 ther when the party returns. 
 
 Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 JOHN S. PIGGOTT, 
 
 Major Commanding. 
 
 "My God!" said little Hayden. "That for the man 
 that dared hell to save me! That, when old Spigots has 
 the medal of honor I " 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A SOLDIER S THREAT 
 
 THAT medal of honor of the major s had been a 
 matter of mild wonderment among the exiles of 
 those early and almost forgotten days. It was a 
 decoration much prized and much coveted in the little 
 fighting force of the old army. So far as then known 
 it stood for some specific act of distinguished bravery in 
 action. Two veteran sergeants at the post of Pluma 
 Blanca were its proud possessors: one for a daring deed 
 at Five Forks ; the other for saving the life of a boy lieu 
 tenant under furious fire at Gettysburg. The regimental 
 standard bearer and his guard for similar reasons had all 
 been similarly decorated. Indeed, one of Colonel Pel- 
 ham s fads was the selection of medal of honor men for 
 that proud and conspicuous duty, but these men were at 
 regimental headquarters, Camp Sandy. Already, too, 
 there were three non-commissioned officers whose heroism 
 in Indian warfare (which demands, indeed, a higher order 
 of courage, because of its desperate nature) had led to 
 War Department recognition and the medal. But it was 
 a singular fact that of the three regiments at that time 
 serving in Arizona only one commissioned officer could 
 count the bronze cross of that most distinguished Order 
 
 87 
 
88 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 among his possessions, and of all others that man was 
 Major Piggott. 
 
 In those days the annual army register never published, 
 as now, the list of officers and men entitled to the medal, 
 and why. Every soldier in the th, however, knew just 
 how, when and where his regimental comrades had won 
 the prize. But Piggott came to them a comparative 
 stranger; his medal as a complete surprise. He arrived 
 at Department Headquarters one hot summer s day. A 
 dance was given at Whipple Barracks the following night, 
 the cool mountain air rendering full uniform a possibility 
 and, civilian evening dress being an official impossibility 
 on such occasions, the officers appeared in the new frock 
 coat and pincushion shoulder-knot of the then brand new 
 regulations, and lo, on Piggott s broad and manly breast 
 was pinned the tiny flag and the modest copper-colored 
 medal that, in the eyes of all men and women there as 
 sembled, was the symbol of most distinguished valor, and 
 one thing they had hitherto heard of the new arrival re 
 cently " consolidated " into the cavalry and assigned to the 
 th and Arizona, was that he had never been in action. 
 Then how the mischief happened it that he should have 
 that medal? Men looked at the decoration and then at 
 each other, and said nothing. Women looked first at the 
 medal, and then at the men for explanation. Mrs. Wil- 
 kins, the unterrified helpmate of a veteran lieutenant, a 
 woman of whom many a man beside her husband stood 
 utterly in awe, took the bull by the horns, as she would 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 89 
 
 express it, and shortly after supper, when the sets were 
 "forming for the then never-neglected Lancers, faced her 
 complacent partner without a tremor and amazed him 
 with the out and out demand, " Well, Meejor Piggott, 
 it s the medal of honor ye re wearing ! Now, how did ye 
 get it?" 
 
 Piggott, perhaps, had been asked that question before, 
 and at all events knew just how to take it. Bowing with 
 much deference and with something like a blush upon his 
 already ruddy face, he diplomatically replied: 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Wilkins, in a regiment like yours it would be 
 absurd to speak of my service. Modesty forbids." 
 
 " But sure, meejor," she persisted, " now that ye re to 
 be wan of us, it s proud we are to see, and we want to 
 know, all about it." 
 
 And even then he parried, as " First couple forward 
 and back ! " was shouted by the then indispensable 
 " caller." She nailed him, however, when it came to 
 " Swing your partners all," and with jovial laugh he 
 answered in bluff, off-hand, soldier fashion : 
 
 " Oh, for just a little thing that happened in front of 
 Washington, way back in 63. There was really nothing 
 to it worth mentioning, but the President and Secretary 
 seemed to think there was. Don t ask me to go into par 
 ticulars here." 
 
 And, on his promise to tell her later, his cross-ques 
 tioner released him, but after that Lancers never once 
 could Mrs. Wilkins lure or waylay him. In thirty-six 
 
90 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 hours he was away by buckboard for the post assigned 
 him far over at the foothills of the Black Mesa, and up 
 to this moment, in mid November, neither Mrs. Wilkins 
 nor anybody else, from the colonel down, had been able 
 to ascertain by what act of valor Piggott had won the 
 coveted medal. Black Bill, his junior by a file or two on 
 the list of majors, who had many a battle scar but never 
 an " honor," save some brevets showered promiscuously 
 at the close of the war, swore he d have it out of Spigots 
 if ever he met him. Bluff old Caraway, who had led a 
 New England brigade through the Wilderness with Grant 
 in 64, and was now doing duty with the title of general 
 and the pay of a major, burst into shouts of laughter 
 when asked if he knew. " Why," said he, " you could 
 buy those things for a shilling where Piggott hails from," 
 and Wickham, the black-bearded adjutant general, with a 
 fighting record and four wounds to his credit, so far de 
 parted from his general rule of never knowing anything 
 as to say that one of the traditions of the Army of the 
 Potomac was that a whole regiment of " emergency men " 
 went home with the medal without ever once pulling 
 trigger behind a ball cartridge. 
 
 But Spigots appeared with his medal at Sunday morn 
 ing inspection at Fort Pluma Blanca, soon after which 
 Sergeants Strong of the cavalry and Tremain of the in 
 fantry discontinued the practice of wearing theirs, and 
 merely looked embarrassed when their captains asked 
 them why. Hazlett and Turner, comparing notes as to 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 91 
 
 that significant fact, grinned and allowed that while ex 
 isting orders permitted, they did not prescribe the wearing 
 of the medal at all functions in full dress. The major 
 was living in solitary state by the time he had been a 
 month at the post. Wife and olive branches he had in the 
 distant East. There was no officers mess, proper, at the 
 fort. Turner, with two of his subalterns, Fane and 
 Bliss, " kept house " after a fashion. Gregg was married 
 and Mrs. Gregg was much in evidence. The infantry 
 bachelors boarded at the trader s and lived better than did 
 their fellows. The major dwelt alone, looked after by a 
 China boy who was domestically all things in one. 
 
 And, since the sending of that second dispatch and the 
 fuller report that followed, the major found himself more 
 than ever without sympathetic fellow men. Turner and 
 his command got back about the I7th, by which time Dr. 
 Evans had most of his wounded under canvas at the fort. 
 Others, more painfully wounded, were still a few miles 
 away, having come in by slow stages. Some were still 
 delirious, some in dangerous condition. One, Lieutenant 
 Fane, though suffering much and quite weak, was clear 
 headed and on the mend. 
 
 But his wound was one over which Evans and his assis 
 tant pondered much and gravely. They were beginning 
 to wonder if the senior had been wise in trying to save 
 what was left of the arm. A decade earlier it would have 
 been sliced off summarily. The humerus had been shat 
 tered and split by a jagged, spherical bullet that literally 
 
92 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " smashed things," for fragments of bone had been driven 
 through to the shirt sleeve, and others were oozing out 
 with every day. Evans swore he could " patch the thing 
 up," and had proceeded to do so, but, time and again the 
 two would come and remove the dressing and study the 
 ugly hole, resting their elbows on their knees, and their 
 chins in their hands as they did so, and then they would 
 renew the bandages, and the carbolated applications, and 
 talk cheerily with their patient, and then, gravely and 
 murmuringly, later, to each other. Turner and Hazlett 
 saw how anxious they were and it made the captains 
 anxious. And all this time, for ten days after the fight, 
 neither Turner, Hazlett nor any officer at the post except 
 Piggott and his unhappy young adjutant knew the tenor 
 of his reports and despatches, even though among the 
 enlisted men talk and comment, not to say curses, were 
 rife. 
 
 Then came a despatch from Department Headquarters. 
 Major Piggott was ordered to proceed thither " for con 
 sultation " at once, and the Major started in the big 
 covered Concord forthwith. Then, when he was well 
 away, Sergeant Dolan begged the captain s pardon, but 
 did the captain know anything about what the major had 
 reported, and if not, in justice to his officers and men, 
 would the captain make inquiry ? And the captain did, at 
 once, of Captain Hazlett, now become commander of the 
 post, and together these two overhauled the retained files, 
 and the scene that ensued and the language made use of 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 93 
 
 by one of the two officers, the trooper of course, might 
 have cost that vigorous campaigner very much both in 
 cash and commission had existent regulations of the day 
 been rigidly enforced. 
 
 Then the doctors said that no word of their discovery 
 must be made known to Fane. It might throw him into 
 fever that would jeopard his life. 
 
 As bad luck would have it, too, it all happened while 
 the Gray Fox was away on an exploration of his own 
 a ride through the Sierras far to the south far down by 
 the Chihuahua line. He was looked for any day, yet 
 might be out for a week more, and Wickham, in his ab 
 sence, could only forward the contents of reports and 
 despatches to division headquarters at San Francisco and 
 hold the originals for the action of his chief. But Wick- 
 ham could not swallow the contents of the second and 
 third budget from Pluma Blanca. After quick conference 
 with Pelham, summoned up from Camp Sandy, he de 
 cided to send for the senior major and let him explain 
 fully to his colonel. Then, with Spigots away from the 
 command, there would be chance of hearing that other 
 side of the story which Wickham s judgment told him 
 must exist. Three days after the major came a galloping 
 courier, via Sandy, with a vehement letter written by 
 Captain Turner and forwarded with respectful but sug 
 gestive remarks by Hazlett. This letter Wickham showed 
 confidentially to Pelham, still awaiting developments at 
 headquarters, and things were looking squally for Major 
 
94 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Piggott, when, lo, there came tidings of other Indian 
 uprisings far to the north, of a massacre under the lure 
 of the sacred flag of truce, of gallant officers and palm- 
 bearing peace commissioners shot down in cold blood by 
 the savages who had sought the council. Changes and 
 promotion must follow. The campaign would be vig 
 orously pushed. The major general commanding the 
 division needed more officers at once. Major Piggott, 
 th Cavalry, would become lieutenant colonel of another, 
 and though it might be months before he would get his 
 commission, it need not be many days before he took his 
 command. Major Piggott, said the next despatch, " will 
 be relieved from duty in the Department of Arizona and 
 ordered to report without delay at these headquarters," 
 which meant San Francisco. And Piggott was already 
 here at Prescott. There was really nothing for Wickham 
 to do but bid him be gone. When at last poor Fane 
 awakened to the full realization of the wrong that had 
 been dealt him, the man mainly responsible was many a 
 long mile beyond hearing the chorus of condemnation 
 chanted in his honor. 
 
 And the way in which the awakening came was cruel 
 in a marked degree. Fane had been sitting up and tod 
 dling about in the warm sunshine of an Arizona winter, 
 and the sun was still hot at noontide in the valleys west 
 of the Mesa. Something in the packages of letters, re 
 ceived weekly since his severe experience, had done much 
 to bring light, hope and gladness to his eyes and a faint 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 95 
 
 bloom back to his cheeks. Everything in the greeting of 
 his brother officers and in the regard of the enlisted men 
 told him the story dear to every soldier heart that he 
 had won the solid respect of both seniors and juniors and 
 the enthusiastic devotion and admiration of the rank and 
 file. The wounded, especially Hayden, were doing well, 
 and Hayden s expressions of love and gratitude were both 
 frequent and embarrassing. Still something was amiss, 
 as Fane could not but feel something vague and in 
 tangible. He had noted that Turner was anxious he 
 should sit up and write his report of the expedition before 
 the doctors wished him to sit up at all. He recalled that 
 Turner finally had him dictate to the company clerk, a 
 slow and cumbrous process. He remembered Turner s 
 dissatisfaction with the report. " You give all credit to 
 Dolan, Scott, little Sutton and other men," said he. " You 
 say nothing about well, your rescue of Hayden. The 
 men can hardly talk of anything else, and you don t go 
 into details as to the desperate nature of the situation 
 there at the tanks something to make it thoroughly clear 
 that you had to turn loose your prisoners." Fane said it 
 wasn t his province to tell of his own doings, and as for 
 the release of the prisoners any soldier could see there 
 was no way to hold them. And still Turner seemed dis 
 satisfied. 
 
 Then Mrs. Hazlett, who had been " lovely " to him 
 during his long hours of pain and fever, seemed forever 
 wanting to talk about letters from home and from New 
 
96 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 York. His left arm, in some rigid framework, was 
 strapped to his side, and she had written his earliest letters 
 to the family at his request. She had also addressed the 
 envelopes of the letters, penciled every day and sent off 
 once a week, to Her. But Mrs. Hazlett began to grow 
 palpably nervous and fitful as the second week in Decem 
 ber came, and a few days more would bring the stage with 
 its mail bags, and to the coming of these the convalescing 
 soldier looked forward with eager and intense impa 
 tience. By the 23d or 24th of November the details of 
 the battle royal between his command and the overwhelm 
 ing force of Apaches should have been received at San 
 Francisco and would have been telegraphed all over the 
 East. 
 
 By the 25th or 26th letters of congratulation would 
 surely be penned by mother and the girls and the proud 
 old soldier father, and by the fair, jeweled hand he loved 
 to picture as he saw it last July, caressing the glossy 
 mane of the horse she loved. By the 27th or 28th such 
 letters should be speeding westward along the Mohawk. 
 By the 4th they should have left Frisco for the fag end 
 of the railway. By the 6th the buckboard should have 
 started across the desert with them from the Colorado 
 crossing. By the Qth or loth they should be at Prescott, 
 and the next hebdomadal trip of the dust-covered, canvas- 
 topped, spring-bottomed stage should bring them with 
 their load of glowing words to him. 
 
 It was a cruel awakening. Mrs. Hazlett had not had 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 97 
 
 the heart to tell him the half, or indeed even a little, of 
 what she feared. She had begged her husband and 
 Turner to prepare him, and they had shrunk from it. 
 There was still time, she argued. The stage was due 
 Saturday about sunset it never came earlier, and Friday 
 evening or Saturday morning she would seek him and 
 gently break to him the actual nature of the major s 
 report. 
 
 Friday afternoon at four who should come riding into 
 the post from the old Tonto trail the road to McDowell, 
 but Al Sieber the " Scout of the Sierras " with a Mexi 
 can packer and a brace of mules. " They asked me to 
 fetch along the letters," said he, to Hazlett and Turner, 
 who were first to meet him. " Got as many as a dozen 
 for Mr. Fane," he added, as though he were unduly 
 favored. " S pose he s getting along all right. That 
 young fellow didn t seem to savvy Indian business, did 
 he? And, d you know, I somehow expected him to do 
 better." 
 
 " How could he? " asked Turner bluntly. 
 
 " How could he ? Why, they re saying at McDowell 
 and Whipple he ran his nose into a regular plant, and 
 turned loose his prisoners, Solalay and all, hopin that that 
 would let him out." 
 
 " It s a d d lie ! " said Turner hotly. Then choked 
 
 at Hazlett s warning glance and uplifted hand. Fane, 
 with his eyes ablaze and a red spot burning in each cheek, 
 stood at the doorway of the little office. He had heard 
 
98 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 every syllable, and wrath and indignation trembled on 
 his tongue as he strove to speak. 
 
 " Let me first," said Hazlett, as impetuously Fane 
 came striding in. " Whoever started that story, Sieber, 
 was utterly ignorant of the facts if nothing worse. No, 
 Fane," he added gently, " don t attempt to speak now. 
 Your captain and I have set you right will see that you 
 are set right everywhere." 
 
 " Well gentlemen, I m more than sorry," cried honest 
 Al, all confusion and contrition. " But, why, it s that 
 way in all the papers, in the major s report, and and it 
 isn t so at all ? Oh, I m d d glad of it ! " 
 
 " It s a lie and a shame," said Turner hotly again. 
 " And you deny it on my authority wherever you go. 
 And we ve sent the true report. Piggott shall swallow 
 the lie before he s a week older." 
 
 " He can t ! He s gone already," said Sieber. " Ordered 
 to Frisco and beyond. There s been hell to pay in the 
 Modoc country." 
 
 " Come with me, Fane," said Turner gently. " Come, 
 and we ll get the letters a little later." But Fane would 
 not budge. While Sieber went on with the details of the 
 massacre, the adjutant was sorting out the mail. With 
 a thick bunch of letters in his one available hand the young 
 soldier left the office and shut himself in his room. An 
 hour later when Turner knocked no answer came, nor 
 was there answer to successive tapping. He turned the 
 knob, entered and found his lieutenant lying face down- 
 
A SOLDIER S THREAT 99 
 
 ward on the little white-covered camp bed, the floor and 
 coverlet littered with newspaper clippings and dozens of 
 closely written pages in three or four different hands. 
 One letter, clutched in the one hand left, was presently 
 hurled across the room as Turner bent over the bed, and 
 then with fearful flush in his face and with fury in his 
 bloodshot eyes, the young officer staggered to his feet and 
 thrust back the outstretched arm of Dr. Evans, who came 
 hurrying in. Clinching his right hand over his head, 
 Fane turned on his friend and captain : 
 
 " By the God that made me, Captain Turner, if I have 
 to follow that blackguard to the depths of hell," he cried, 
 " I ll thrash the truth out of him or kill him ! " 
 
 And this was before the fever could fairly have taken 
 hold, that for long days after held him helpless in its 
 grasp. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 WEEKS went by and many a change came 
 over the scene and actors in this little frontier 
 drama. The personnel at Pluma Blanca, as we 
 found it in the fall of 187 , was widely scattered by the 
 first of April. Spigots was now commanding a post afar 
 in the pine forests of Washington. Hazlett most deserv 
 edly had been awarded the recruiting detail, which prom 
 ised two years in civilization for him and his, and they 
 were now visiting old Army friends at Prescott before 
 starting for the mouth of the Colorado and the sea voyage 
 round to the Golden Gate. Turner and his " people," a 
 way he had of designating his soldiery and sorrels both, 
 had been transferred to regimental headquarters at Sandy, 
 whither Lieutenant Fane had managed to make the ride, 
 sometimes by mule litter, " fore and aft," sometimes in 
 saddle, to which he could no longer spring as of old. 
 Neither could he comply with the provisions of the cav 
 alry tactics of the day, which prescribed that he should 
 " seize a wisp of the mane with the left hand," the left 
 hand and arm being still practically useless, the latter still 
 in its framework strapped to the side. Moreover, Fane 
 had not been mending as was to be expected of a young 
 
 100 
 
THE MEDAL HONOR 101 
 
 fellow of sound constitution and gbbcT Health and Habits. 
 Fane had had weeks of high fever, followed by others f 
 low spirits and vitality. Captain and Mrs. Hazlett, alone, 
 were in position to tell the real cause or causes, and they 
 would not. There was one period of four weeks in mid 
 winter during which these loyal friends of the patient had 
 taken entire charge of his letters and correspondence, and 
 the missive Hazlett wrote to General Fane after reading 
 the old soldier s letter to his son, and the letters Mrs. Haz 
 lett wrote to the mother and sisters after reading both 
 these and the newspaper clippings, threw that army house 
 hold into a paroxysm of mingled rejoicing, triumph, and 
 self-reproach. But the two letters, combined, sent the 
 brave old division commander of the war days into the 
 seclusion of his " den," where, on his knees, he sobbed out 
 his thanks to the Merciful Father that the rebuke was de 
 served, that his boy had proved himself a man and a sol 
 dier, that it was now his turn, the foolish, the improvi 
 dent, the father of little faith, to sue for forgiveness and 
 to pour forth from humbled and chastened heart the sad 
 story of his debts and entanglements. " I cannot long 
 bear up under it, my boy," he wrote. " There is no hope 
 now of my getting a star before retirement. It goes to 
 your Gray Fox, and he deserves it, though it lifts him 
 over every colonel in the army. So after all there will 
 only be for a year or two the three-quarters pay of a 
 colonel, then a miserable little ten-thousand-dollar life 
 insurance for your mother and the girls. Pet could 
 
102 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 marry any day, and probably will marry before long. 
 Clare could have married three times over, but we all 
 thought our beauty should not be thrown away on the 
 army, and looked, God help us, for a brilliant match for 
 a girl without a dollar of dot. As for Jane, our plain, 
 practical, spinster Jane, she seems to have been the one 
 level-headed member of the family. She has been study 
 ing while the others have been flirting and dancing. She 
 will be a help to you in caring for the mother and for 
 Clare when I am laid away. The old wounds bite sorely, 
 as will yours in days to come, my boy, but may God spare 
 you the mental pangs, the humiliation and distress that 
 have bowed my old head. I d gladly go to-day only that 
 would leave them with nothing." 
 
 This letter had contributed little to Fane s recovery, 
 though it killed the last vestige of rancor he felt that his 
 soldier father should so readily have accepted the first 
 published stories of the savage fight at Tonto Pass. He 
 thought it, as did Hazlett and his wife, a deed of unnec 
 essary, unjustifiable harshness that in his chagrin the stern 
 old father should have gathered up every newspaper that 
 referred to the matter, editorially or otherwise, and cut 
 out paragraphs and bundled them all into his letters and 
 asked his son how he expected him, brevet major general 
 of the regular service for gallantry on a dozen fields, to 
 face his officers and men, well knowing they were jeering 
 over the disgrace of his only son. Heavens, but it was 
 hard! 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 103 
 
 Yet it brought prompt reaction, retribution even, 
 as we have seen. To begin with, General Fane s officers 
 and men were far from jeering over the story. They 
 honored and loved their brave, blunt, straightforward old 
 colonel, though they had not begun at that time to esti 
 mate press descriptions of military affairs at their proper 
 value. Even those who gave credence to the story felt 
 sympathy and sorrow for the father. One officer, indeed, 
 was there who hailed from the same State as Piggott, who 
 knew him by reputation, who declared that there would 
 be another side to the story, and who proved to be a true 
 prophet, for it was not many weeks before the very papers 
 that had teemed with talk about " the weak-kneed lieu 
 tenant who had surrendered Solalay and his murderous 
 gang," began, of course without withdrawing anything 
 previously said to his grievous detriment, to publish para 
 graphs to the effect that there had been the severest kind 
 of a fight; that Lieutenant Fane, in spite of serious 
 wounds, had behaved with bravery and commanded with 
 skill and judgment. Still, first stories and first impres 
 sions are hard to eradicate. For long weeks and months 
 and in many a city and community Fane was known as 
 the officer who led his men into ambush and weakly sur 
 rendered the prizes of the whole campaign, rather than as 
 the man honored and envied in the th Cavalry and all 
 the territory as the first officer to be recommended by the 
 new brigadier general, their tried old leader, the Gray 
 Fox, for the coveted medal of honor. 
 
104 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Nor had this result been brought about spontaneously. 
 It was the sight of those press clippings, and a peep at 
 certain lines in General Fane s first letter, that stirred 
 Hazlett and Turner to the exercise of their full powers. 
 Up to that time they had contented themselves with con 
 tradicting Piggott s report and giving department head 
 quarters the correct version. Now, with one accord and 
 the enthusiastic backing of such soldiers as Dolan, Scott, 
 and, in fine, the whole department, they laid siege first on 
 Pelham, then on the commanding general, once again 
 established at Prescott. Fane, as soon as able to write, 
 demanded a court of inquiry, but even before this was 
 received by Wickham there had gone forward to 
 " Frisco " a full description of the combat in Tonto Pass, 
 written by Captain Turner from the accounts given by 
 members of the detachment, with especial reference to the 
 heroic rescue of Trooper Hayden by his wounded and 
 suffering commander. It was supported by the affidavits 
 and personal accounts of every soldier survivor of the 
 affray, and when at last Fane was " littered " in to Sandy 
 it was to be feted, welcomed, lionized as never before had 
 he dared to dream. The general himself drove down 
 from Prescott, fifty miles over the roughest kind of moun 
 tain road, personally to greet and thank and encourage 
 the young soldier, and to say to him that, just as soon as 
 he was pronounced able to travel, he should be sent by sea 
 to San Francisco and granted a sick leave in which to 
 recuperate fully before rejoining the regiment. 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 105 
 
 But here, too, at Sandy the surgeons shook their heads. 
 " That arm won t heal in months," said they ; the more 
 radical, like old Scotty Graham, holding that it should 
 have come off at the start. Then the general went back 
 to headquarters, and presently down came the medical 
 director, and he, too, looked grave after a long hour s 
 study of the still angry gap in the upper arm. " We can 
 patch him up in April and send him along," was his re 
 port to the chief, " but I can t foretell the issue." 
 
 Perhaps had Mrs. Hazlett been asked to speak she 
 might have told how anxieties, sorer even than that sore 
 wound, were preying on her interesting patient, but noth 
 ing would have induced Mrs. Hazlett to tell of the thing 
 that, more than all others, told most heavily upon his 
 spirits and barred his recovery. There had come some 
 unlooked-for, and apparently insurmountable, estrange 
 ment between Fane and that distant girl he so dearly 
 loved. No letter had been exchanged since the end of 
 January, and yet Mrs. Hazlett believed his love to be an 
 swered in full, believed that girl would even then gladly 
 have left her luxurious surroundings in the East and 
 would even have dared the long journey to the wilds of 
 the wildest West to join and be joined to her soldier lover, 
 to comfort him in his bodily suffering and in his severe 
 and undeserved distress of mind. Yet, when Mrs. Haz 
 lett gently strove to make him tell her the cause of the 
 trouble, he either could or would not. " Is it not best to 
 have it so?" he asked. "What right have I to seek a 
 
106 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 wife when any day I may become sole support of a 
 grown-up family ? " 
 
 They succeeded, did the surgeons, as they said. They 
 patched him up in the course of several weeks, and the 
 general s letters and despatches in his behalf had been 
 answered in full. They were to send him by stage to the 
 Colorado, with a careful attendant, thence down that shal 
 low, sand-barred, desolate stream to the sea-going craft 
 at anchor in the gulf. Indefinite leave on surgeon s cer 
 tificate would be granted after he had been overhauled 
 professionally at division headquarters, but meanwhile 
 and beforehand a certain ceremony was to be enacted at 
 the main station of his famous regiment. No less than 
 six of its troops were assembled at Camp Sandy. Four 
 companies of infantry, too, were to be present to take 
 part. The general and his staff would be down from 
 Prescott. The Court of Inquiry had been set aside as 
 unnecessary, its possible action, said the final authorities, 
 being anticipated and rendered wholly unnecessary by the 
 formal presentation of the Medal of Honor. 
 
 It was the greatest event and finest sight ever known at 
 Sandy. About the tall, white flagstaff, just as the setting 
 sun was gilding the eastward mountains, lighting with 
 dazzling splendor the bold cliffs beyond the stream and 
 throwing long shadows across the barren level of the 
 parade, on three sides of a square, facing inward, the ten 
 companies were paraded, officers at their posts, the cav 
 alry afoot. The band of the th was stationed in circle 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 107 
 
 at the base of the flagstaff. The great garrison colors, 
 then a feature of the large forts or cantonments on na 
 tional holidays, had been hoisted to the peak and hung 
 almost without a ripple in the breathless air. Standing 
 at ease, the command awaited the approach of a group of 
 officers still hovering about the porch of the commanding 
 officer s quarters. Women were few in number so early 
 in the days of our dominion, but a pretty show they made, 
 the dozen that were there, gathered even from Whip- 
 pie Barracks and the old agency to reinforce the sister 
 hood of Sandy. The daintiest toilets had they donned in 
 honor of the occasion, Mrs. Wilkins especially being as 
 resplendent as she was conspicuous (" Both for bulk and 
 brogue," said Blake, who was up with his troop from 
 McDowell), and Mrs. Hazlett, obviously excited and flus 
 tered as she had never before been known to be. Pres 
 ently the group of officers moved slowly toward them, the 
 Gray Fox in their midst. Never before had one member 
 of the garrison seen him seldom had they seen each 
 other in even that modification of the bill of dress that 
 in Arizona passed for full uniform. In the party were 
 Wickham, the black-bearded chief of staff, close at the 
 general s elbow, and Blithe and Rossiter, the aides-de 
 camp, and Major Little, chief commissary, and his burly 
 associate, the chief quartermaster. There were two or 
 three regimental officers from neighboring camps, and 
 finally, on the other flank of the general, escorting these, 
 came " Old Catnip," the much loved colonel of the th, 
 
108 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 followed by his adjutant and quartermaster, the post sur 
 geons and the chaplain. Back of the ranks, that sprang 
 to attention at the approach of the distinguished party, 
 were grouped by scores the wives and children of the sol 
 diers, mingling with the civilian employees, the scouts and 
 packers ; back of them all even the Apache prisoners, some 
 still burdened with ball and chain, drawn up in sullen, 
 wondering rank, close watched by their silent, vigilant 
 guards. 
 
 As they neared the open side of the martial square it 
 was characteristic of the general commanding that he 
 should seem to draw back and let Pelham take the lead, 
 He lacked the nerve of Mrs. Wilkins, whose burly, red- 
 faced lord, but by no means master, stood meekly in the 
 line of file closers of his troop, the oldest lieutenant on the 
 active list, surveying the scene between the heads of 
 the center men of the first platoon. Mrs. Wilkins, with 
 superb disdain of the conventionalities, stepped boldly 
 forth from the bevy of women f oik > and led the way. 
 " Sure we ll never hear the furrst wurred he says at this 
 distance," said she. (" Nor the last that she says," mut 
 tered Blake to his chin strap, and the quivering delight 
 of big Sergeant Moriarity, his nearest neighbor.) " Come 
 on, leedies," and led the way to the square, nor paused 
 until she reached a point within whispering distance of 
 the official group, the sisterhood timidly following. Wick- 
 ham had just handed a paper to the adjutant, Truscott, 
 who, tall, slender and erect, by long odds the most dis- 
 
THE MEDAL OP HONOR 109 
 
 tinguished-looking man of the party, strode a few paces 
 forward, and then in deep, powerful baritone began to 
 read, every word carrying to the remotest corner of the 
 wide parade. 
 
 The document was brief and strictly official. It recited 
 that under the authority of the Secretary of War and 
 after due investigation by the Inspector General, the 
 records of the Department of Arizona, based upon the 
 report of the commanding officer at Fort Pluma Blanca, 
 of December 3, 187 , and referring to the action in 
 
 Tonto Pass November between a detachment of 
 
 twenty men of the th Cavalry, under command of First 
 Lieutenant Ronald Fane of that regiment, and a band of 
 Apaches estimated at no less than three hundred and fifty, 
 would be amended to read as follows : " The position at 
 the tanks was stubbornly held until three men and all but 
 four horses had been killed and several men had been 
 wounded. To remain there invited the slow annihilation 
 of the little command. To transfer the survivors with 
 their wounded to a point of shelter up the northward 
 slope demanded both skill and daring. To longer hold 
 and care for the Apache prisoners was impossible. The 
 movement was admirably conducted by Lieutenant Fane 
 and with the loss of but a single trooper, whose leg was 
 shattered. In a daring but unfortunately unsuccessful 
 effort to bear this wounded man to shelter, Sergeant Dolan 
 was painfully wounded and Trooper Sinclair shot dead. 
 Later, all unaided and in face of deadly fire, Lieutenant 
 
110 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Fane, who had already been nearly blinded by an arrow, 
 succeeded in reaching the exhausted soldier, and at the 
 imminent risk of his own life bore him eighty yards to a 
 point of refuge. The conduct of the officer commanding 
 and of his little party, seven of whom in all were shot 
 dead or succumbed to their wounds, and most of whom 
 were more or less severely wounded, reflects the greatest 
 credit upon themselves, upon the regiment and the entire 
 army. The release of the prisoners was a military 
 necessity. 
 
 " And now it is the privilege of the department com 
 mander to announce that, based upon the recommendation 
 of the commanding officer, Fort Pluma Blanca, concurred 
 in by the generals commanding the department, the divi 
 sion and the army, the President has been pleased to di 
 rect " (here Truscott s voice rang out so that every word 
 told like a shot) " that the Medal of Honor be awarded as 
 follows: First, For daring and devotion in having, at 
 the imminent risk of his life and in face of heavy fire from 
 surrounding Indians, left his shelter and though painfully 
 wounded and nearly blind, succeeded in reaching and 
 bearing unaided to a place of safety a private soldier, help 
 less from a shattered leg, First Lieutenant Ronald Fane, 
 th U. S. Cavalry. 
 
 " Second : For daring and devotion in having, at the 
 imminent risk of his life and in face of heavy fire from 
 surrounding Indians, left his shelter, succeeded in reach 
 ing and partially succoring a comrade, helpless from a 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 111 
 
 shattered leg, in which effort his one associate was shot 
 dead and he himself nearly succumbed to loss of blood 
 from wounds received Sergeant Patrick Dolan, Troop 
 L, th Cavalry. 
 
 " Third : A medal suitably inscribed has been sent 
 direct to the mother of Private Ralph Sinclair, Troop L, 
 th Cavalry, in recognition of the daring and devotion of 
 this brave soldier, who sacrificed his own life in joint 
 effort with Sergeant Dolan to rescue a helpless comrade, 
 quitting the shelter of the rocks and voluntarily exposing 
 himself to what proved to be certain death. The annals 
 of the Department contain no nobler examples of soldier 
 heroism than these. 
 
 " By command of Brigadier General Crook." 
 
 Then Truscott folded the paper, and then his voice was 
 heard again: 
 
 " The officer and non-commissioned officer thus desig 
 nated will step to the front and center." 
 
 Together they came, side by side, though brave old 
 Dolan, taken utterly by surprise, trembling in every limb 
 and with his lips twitching frantically, hung back and 
 would have followed had not Fane, whose own face was 
 well-nigh colorless with emotion, observed this and would 
 not so have it. The whole troop, yes, half the square 
 heard his low-toned words, almost in command, as the 
 two faltered a moment in front of the standard : " No, 
 sir. It was shoulder to shoulder that day. It s side by 
 side now ! " 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Together they advanced, the slender, almost undersized 
 subaltern, his wreck of an arm still slung beneath his coat, 
 his empty sleeve still looped across his body, and on his 
 left, tall, powerful, with weather-beaten face and grizzled 
 hair, the veteran non-commissioned officer both men 
 tremulous, both men silent, both staring straight ahead 
 even when they halted and the right hands came up in 
 simultaneous salute. The general stepped before them. 
 Blithe at his heels, bearing the almost priceless trophies 
 when so won and so presented. The kindly, bearded face 
 of the famous leader twitched a bit in sympathy with 
 those of the two soldiers he would so signally honor. His 
 steel blue eyes were blinking. He could hardly find voice 
 to murmur just a few simple words of congratulation as 
 he pinned the medal upon the breast of each, shook each 
 heartily by the hand, and then half turned to Wickham. 
 Instantly the staff pressed forward; Truscott s gloved 
 hand waved to the leader; the exultant, thrilling strains 
 of the Star Spangled Banner burst upon the evening air 
 and those were the days before the army had taken to 
 the beautiful and ceremonious homage that came in with 
 a later generation Pelham signaled joyously to his troop 
 commanders ; " Rest " was the longed for word that let 
 loose the pent up enthusiasm of some six hundred soldier 
 spirits, and then followed cheer upon cheer. Cheers for 
 the General: cheers for the President: cheers for Lieu 
 tenant Fane " that we d wade through hell for," shouted 
 the sergeant major cheers, frantic cheers for Sergeant 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 113 
 
 Pat Dolan " that hasn t the bate of him in all the army," 
 and there was none to rebuke or repress them, for the 
 officers joined in, doubly perhaps for Dolan, and mean 
 while the recipients had been passed on to the greeting 
 of man after man, of woman after woman, and there were 
 smiles and tears and clasping hands and fervent praise 
 and glad congratulation ; and, in this wise, honored, feted, 
 envied even among his kind, Fane bade farewell, for a 
 time at least, to comrades among whom there lived no 
 man but held him in esteem, many in affection, many even 
 in reverence, called to face a condition hitherto hardly 
 dreamed of, and to begin a new life in a world hitherto 
 unknown. 
 
PART III 
 THE PATHS OF PEACE 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 IN CLASSIC SHADES 
 
 THE soft haze of Indian summer had replaced the 
 glare, the sharp outlines, the dazzling high lights 
 of the Western landscape. The lake lay still and 
 flawless, framed in mellow crimson, rich, ruddy browns 
 and gold. Oak and maple, sumach and sycamore mingled 
 in the gorgeous bordering of the silvery flood. On leaf 
 and vine and tendril the early frosts displayed their filmy 
 drapery late into each opening day. The grasses bowed 
 beneath their weight of sparkling dew. The air was athrill 
 with life exhilaration vigor, and deep laden with its 
 gift of ozone, its train of forest odors, its faint fragrance 
 of pungent smoke wreaths. The squirrels frisked and 
 chattered in the branches overhead. The long-eared rab 
 bits darted zig-zag through the shrubbery. Out in the 
 stubble fields beyond the winding, suburban wood roads 
 Bob White was piping loud and clear, while his shy, 
 brown-breasted mate led joyously her pretty bustling 
 brood. Aloft, saluted by an hundred guns, brave flocks 
 of blue-winged teal, red-heads and mallards drove south 
 ward in the slanting rays of the earliest sunshine, seeking 
 distant, sedgy refuge for another night. Far and near, 
 from clustering roofs and scattered homesteads, from lofty 
 
 117 
 
118 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 tapering towers in low ground and cottage chimneys on 
 the distant, haze-dimmed heights smoke clouds soared on 
 high with never a breath of breeze to swerve them from 
 their zenith flight. The deep-toned bell that chimed the 
 hour of six while yet the day god dozed beneath the east 
 ward wave now tolled forth one single, solemn note to 
 mark the half. Church tower and city hall among the dis 
 tant buildings gave answering, harsher clang. A railway 
 whistle from far across the mist-wreathed waters shrilled 
 its salutation to the waking town as the long, unseen 
 train, dull-roaring round some rocky scarp, came whirling 
 from the night to meet the glory of the new-born day, its 
 single and bleary eye, so forceful but the hour agone, now 
 " paling its ineffectual fires " in the face of nature s all- 
 pervading headlight. Then, unaccustomed sound in such 
 surroundings, over among the wooded heights above the 
 lapping shore line, quick, spirited and martial, a bugle 
 thrilled the tune of the army reveille, and to the peak of a 
 lance-like staff above the sparkling foliage the Stars and 
 Stripes, in miniature, soared, fluttering a moment, then fell 
 again asleep and hung drowsing in the pulseless air. 
 
 Here at the brink of the silent waters, midway between 
 the grove-covered bluff and the bowered dwellings on the 
 edge of town, a pathway, broad and level, followed the 
 curving strand; and suddenly, swift stepping round a 
 rocky ledge, there came into view a single figure, a soldier, 
 one would say, even had there been no sign of soldier 
 dress about him. But this man wore the jaunty kepi of 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 119 
 
 the cavalry. A dark blue cape, or circular, muffled his 
 form from the shoulder well down to the thigh. Below 
 it, straight, sinewy legs in regulation yellow-striped, snug- 
 fitting trousers strode briskly on. Under the kepi and 
 above the cape, mustached and thin, was a face we last 
 saw among the sands of Arizona. That was barely six 
 months agone. This was Fane, looking surely more than 
 six months older. 
 
 Strange things many things can come to pass within 
 a sixmonth, and strange things, many things, sad things, 
 had come to pass with Fane. As feared, indeed as self- 
 predicted, the soldier father had been laid away in the 
 beautiful old cemetery at the Point, without ever a chance 
 to gather his boy to his heart, without ever having seen 
 that priceless medal of honor. As feared and as pre 
 dicted, there was even less than the little life insurance 
 for the mother and for Clare, to whom both Jane and 
 Pet had resolutely and fondly surrendered their little 
 share, sturdily saying they would never need it. Jane had 
 found a teacher s berth in a Western college, aided 
 thereto by a trustee who in by-gone days had led a regi 
 ment in the father s division. Pet had given her hand 
 and heart to a soldier, instead of the stock-broker favored 
 by mamma. Clare, who had turned down, supposedly, so 
 many a swain, was now without so much as even an 
 officer offer. She and the sorrowing mother, with many 
 a backward glance and rueful sigh, had looked perhaps 
 their last upon the revelry and riches of Newport, New 
 
120 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 London and Narragansett Pier, and had meekly gone with 
 Ronald to a students boarding house in that same West 
 ern college town. It was the best that he or they 
 could do. 
 
 And even this, in large measure, they owed to plain, 
 pragmatical Jane. The " Foundation " was not wealthy ; 
 the Faculty was large; the salaries were distributed ac 
 cordingly. It was one of the co-educational institutions 
 then in their experimental stage. It was a State institu 
 tion, its Faculty being in large measure dependent upon 
 and dominated by its Board of Trustees, who, being poli 
 ticians as a rule, were in no small measure and in turn 
 dominated by the student body. The Governor of the 
 State chose the Trustees, the Trustees the Faculty, and the 
 sovereign student, hailing from every section of the State, 
 had no little voice, had indeed considerable influence, in 
 choosing all three, a fact the President of the Board well 
 knew and over well considered. It was to this far Wes 
 tern seat of learning Jeannette Fane, " Plain Jane Fane," 
 as she persisted in styling herself, had been summoned to 
 report the I5th of September, and had gone the I5th of 
 August, to " shake herself down," she said, and study her 
 surroundings. As a young girl, late in the war when the 
 beloved soldier father lay wounded in hospital after Nash 
 ville, she had met and known and been much admired by 
 the silent colonel of volunteers who so often limped in on 
 his crutches to ask for his general, to salute his general s 
 wife, and to see his general s daughter. But the colonel 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 
 
 thought himself far plainer than the others thought Jane. 
 A square, straightforward business man was he, and the 
 general s wife knew naught of Western ways and scouted 
 Western manners. They were days when " Mrs. Gen 
 eral " looked forward to the command of the army, and 
 her lofty disdain had been too much for him whom even 
 Grant declared a typical volunteer soldier and a model 
 man. He used to write to his old general sometimes 
 after the war, which led to Mrs. General s pronouncing 
 him " pushing." Pushing he was in a way that told. 
 He pushed in his profession. He pushed in politics. 
 He pushed and prospered in property and real estate. He 
 would gladly have asked Jeannette Fane, fifteen years his 
 junior, to be his wife in 65, but he couldn t face the awful 
 condescension of the mother. He married a local heiress 
 four years later, and still he never lost his love for his 
 aging division commander. He was prominent as a trus 
 tee of the State Co-educational College when the news 
 reached him of that veteran s prostration. " Largely 
 due, it is believed," said a zealous journalist " to dis 
 appointment in his only son, whose incapacity as an 
 officer was so strongly manifested in the recent cam 
 paign." That was early in the year, and not an 
 hour did the colonel lose in tendering sympathy and 
 aid. It was Jane who answered at her father s behest, 
 and then this married model man wrote presently to her. 
 He wrote again, congratulating all when the real news 
 came from Arizona and the honored name was on so many 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 a lip. He wrote still again in condolence and sympathy, 
 when, early in May, the telegraphic columns announced 
 the death of that gallant veteran of the Army of the Cum 
 berland, and then a few weeks later came a black-edged 
 missive from the girl he had not seen since March in 65. 
 Her sorrowful little story was no surprise to him. She 
 asked his aid in getting a place as teacher in the public 
 schools. The answer came in the shape of a letter from 
 the colonel trustee s wife, inviting her to make their 
 house her home, at least until she could find something 
 she liked better, and within it was a missive from the 
 Secretary of the Board to the effect that an additional in 
 structor was needed in the Department of Mathematics. 
 The salary was necessarily small at the start, but would 
 be gradually increased as she gained experience in the 
 work, which would be mainly in geometry and trigo 
 nometry. Jane left the family circle sorrowing much at 
 her decision, but Ronald, at least, realized the necessity. 
 Already he was seeking something to do that should eke 
 out his little stipend. The arm had knit and was out of 
 its sling, but a mere wreck of its old self, limp and 
 shrunken, still unhealed and requiring daily dressing, a 
 source of frequent irritation, if not of incessant pain. 
 They were spending the summer at a quiet, inexpensive 
 resort on the Long Island shore, " far from the madding 
 crowd " and the scenes so dear to mamma and Clare in 
 the days of their now fallen empire. Once each week 
 R@nald went by boat to the nearest army station for sur- 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 
 
 gical treatment. Once each month the surgeon renewed 
 the certificate that he was unfit for active duty. Once 
 every day the mail came, generally with no response and 
 never with favorable,, to his frequent letters soliciting 
 temporary employment. Not until September was there 
 light of any kind. Then it came through Jane. Even 
 before her own duties had begun she had found something 
 that might be a help to Ronald, and through him to all. 
 
 The college is entitled to the services of an army officer as 
 instructor in drill and tactics, so Colonel West informs me, and 
 it seems that by law, having accepted certain grants of land 
 from the government, it is required to maintain instruction in 
 military tactics and diccipline, but in some way the system has 
 fallen into disuse. The colonel says that Major Pitt, who used 
 to be here, and his successor, Lieutenant Strang, received extra 
 pay from the college, and, though it cannot be promised, he 
 believes that at the winter meeting of the board they will be 
 glad to vote six hundred dollars or so, especially if you make 
 a success of it. He says that if you care to try it he will 
 have application made at once. The detail is for three years. 
 It costs much less to live here than East. We should all have 
 to board this first year, but, after that, by pulling together, we 
 might have a nice little cottage house here near the college 
 where you can leave mother and Clare with me when you 
 return to the regiment. The colonel thinks it might stimulate 
 interest very much to have a " medal of honor man " here, and 
 your old maid pedagogue of a sister would certainly rejoice. 
 Think of it over night, then wire. 
 
 I have moved into my room at Mrs. Jamieson s, the relict 
 of an extinct volcano in the faculty. When a professor dies 
 here the widow takes heart again and boarders. They say 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 it renews their youth, and Mrs. Jamieson is certainly vivacious. 
 She has two communicating rooms near mine that could do for 
 mother and Clare, and I find that you could be snugly quartered 
 next door at Mrs. Bronson s, also a widow, but not quite so 
 youthful in her way as my chatelaine. Only, we have to speak 
 quickly, for in two weeks " school begins," as they express it, 
 and everything in this community I find hinges on two essen 
 tials " school and the legislature." The latter sits six or eight 
 weeks each winter, and supports that part of the town the rest 
 of the year. " School keeps " from mid-September to mid-June, 
 and the chief end of woman is to take table boarders. There 
 is no Hall or Commons or Mess for the male students. They 
 sleep and eat where they please. There is a big building wherein 
 the feminine tinder-graduates, known as " Co-Eds," both board 
 and lodge, but none others need apply. It has its restrictions 
 as well as its limitations, I find, and many of the young women 
 " dwell promiscuous " about town rather than submit to rules 
 as to hours and the men. From what I hear, dropped without 
 reserve from the lips of the lady matrons, managers, house 
 keepers, etc., I look forward to new and possibly novel expe 
 riences. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. West have been most kind, and she was so 
 good as to urge my remaining longer as their guest, but you 
 know what a stickler I am for independence. I needed to be 
 where I could study, sleep and exercise according to my own 
 programme. 
 
 The catalogue I send will give you an idea what a big insti 
 tution this is. I was surprised. As yet I have met but few 
 of the faculty, or their families. They spend the summer camp 
 ing or traveling, and are only just straggling back. There are, 
 however, something like thirty young men and women, mainly 
 graduates of the college, who are employed as assistants in 
 various branches; Elocution, with reason, I should say, calling 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 125 
 
 for rather more exponents than even mathematics. Clare might 
 air her French, she being one of Madame Chegaray s shining 
 lights, and they tell me they thought I must have come in that 
 department, it seems, because the trustees are expected to 
 give employment, wherever possible to alumni or alumnae of 
 "the school." French, hitherto, has not been a strong point. 
 Now they have a professor from the East who lived long abroad 
 and he insisted on two assistants of his own selection, also 
 long schooled abroad. College people say vaguely they don t 
 see how I, not being an alumna, got one of the three vacancies 
 in mathematics, in "Math," as you call it. Well, neither do I. 
 But, Ronald, I mean to show them why, having it, I should 
 keep it. 
 
 Mrs. Jamieson has just called me to the window to see the 
 "new young lady in French," a most presentable and accu 
 rately groomed young woman, if I may judge from her back. 
 She has taken her room at the Hall, I m told, and she, too, 
 it would appear, has known much better days, has met with 
 reverses, etc. How much one learns in the classic shades of 
 a country college. Mrs. Jamieson was even telling me more, 
 something- about the father of the lady in French being under 
 indictment for something shady in Wall Street, but I begged off 
 to finish this letter. And it should have been finished before the 
 gossip began. Love to mother and the Lady Clare. 
 
 Yours plainly, 
 
 JANE. 
 
 It was Jane s letter that settled it. Ronald did not 
 sleep over it. He hardly slept at all. The wire went 
 that night. The application went next day. The order 
 was issued at Washington within the week and, early in 
 September and for the first time in her life, Mrs. Fane 
 
126 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 found herself west of the Wabash. She was pleased to 
 be gracious to Colonel West, who met them at the station 
 and drove them to his commodious home. She appalled 
 poor little Mrs. West, who shrank visibly in her presence 
 and who looked upon Clare s fine proportions and classic 
 features with undisguised concern. In presence of such 
 charms it was a relief to her again to welcome plain Jane, 
 of whom she had begun to feel vaguely jealous, never 
 knowing or dreaming why. Of the lieutenant she took 
 hardly any notice. Jane, her brother and the colonel 
 vanished soon after tea to go look at lodgings. Mrs. Fane, 
 fatigued by the long, dusty railway journey, was early 
 abed, Clare speedily followed suit, and Mrs. West had the 
 field to herself and a comforting cry before the searchers 
 returned. Mrs. West, it was soon seen, was by no means 
 strong. Mrs. West, it was soon said, must go abroad if 
 she hoped to be restored to health. 
 
 It was just one week before the beginning of the fall 
 term that Brevet Captain Ronald Fane arrived. This, by 
 the way, was before the Senate discovered that Indian 
 fighting, the deadliest and most desperate of all, was not 
 war within the meaning of the statutes, so the Gray Fox s 
 recommendation went through. Two years later that 
 august body recanted, and the fighting force of the Army 
 was edified by the decision that a man might be (as some 
 men were) brevetted up to the stars for shipping pork 
 and hardtack to combatants in Dixie, but could not get 
 so much as a single bar for fighting desperately his weight 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 127 
 
 in savage Indians and ten times over at that. Ronald 
 Fane, however, had been duly brevetted " For conspicu 
 ous bravery in action against hostile Indians," and the 
 regiment and the West, at least, applauded. Only a few 
 days they remained under the hospitable roof of Colonel 
 West. The mother and sisters were established in their 
 new quarters, the most primitive and contracted the ladies 
 had ever known, even in the army. Trunks had come. 
 Boxes and bales were coming, and, with his father s old 
 friend and fellow soldier for guide, Ronald had carried 
 out his orders to report to the President of the State 
 College, Groveton, for duty. It was a visit he never 
 forgot. 
 
 They were ushered into a large, semi-darkened room 
 and into the presence of a tall, spare, gray-headed and 
 sparse-bearded man, with deep-set, Qavernous eyes, hollow 
 cheeks, long, angular limbs and bony hands, in long, loose- 
 fitting black coat and trousers, who resignedly lowered his 
 pen at their approach and greeted them without a smile. 
 
 He did not rise from his chair, even though one of 
 his visitors was an active and influential Trustee. He 
 opened the ball without a moment for the customary 
 conventional trifles: 
 
 "You ve come to see about the drill, I suppose," 
 said he. 
 
 Fane bowed and glanced toward the colonel. 
 
 " About the professorship, Mr. President," said the 
 colonel suggestively. 
 
128 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " I don t know what it s called," said the head of the 
 college, with neither interest nor welcome in voice or 
 manner. " There are just two things I wish that you 
 should get along without friction and that you should get 
 the students into the militia." 
 
 Fane looked puzzled. This was something new. He 
 turned to his quiet-mannered mentor for explanation. 
 
 " Our militiamen are paid five dollars apiece toward 
 their uniform fund," said the colonel, with a smile. "But 
 there are reciprocal obligations and duties, Mr. Presi 
 dent, that possibly you have not considered." 
 
 " I don t know anything about that," quickly responded 
 the head of the college. " What I do know is that many 
 of our students find it a hardship to buy a uniform. This 
 will help them. Then there has been more or less friction 
 at times between the drill instructor, the students and 
 others, and it is a thing to be avoided. Has Mr. 
 Mr. " 
 
 " Captain Fane," said the Trustee smoothly. 
 
 " Has Mr. Fane ever taught elsewhere ? " asked the 
 President. 
 
 " At West Point," said the lieutenant, not too confi 
 dently. 
 
 " At ? " The President possibly had not heard. He 
 
 looked as though his thoughts were buried in the manu 
 script on his desk. 
 
 " At West Point," repeated Fane respectfully. 
 
 The President looked a trifle dazed or disappointed. 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 129 
 
 " I thought possibly you might be able to help in mathe 
 matics. We may need more " he began, but his eyes 
 dropped again to the penciled page before him. A word 
 needed modification. He crossed it out and began tapping 
 impatiently at the edge of the paper. Obviously the in 
 terview was too long. 
 
 " I could try, sir," said Fane, " though I m rusty just 
 now." 
 
 " Well, I may have to call upon you. I m glad you re 
 willing. The man we had I don t remember his 
 name " 
 
 " Mr. Strang, possibly," suggested the Trustee. 
 
 " Said he wasn t sent here for any such purpose," con 
 tinued the President. " I m glad you re, willing to be 
 useful." 
 
 " I hope to be that," said Fane, smiling, " even if I do 
 not teach mathematics." 
 
 " Well I don t know anything about the drills. 
 That," and the President threw forth his hands and 
 arms in side-long gesture as much as to say, " that is en 
 tirely Heyond me or my comprehension." Then plainly 
 intimated that there was no need for further trespass on 
 his time. 
 
 " Our President," said the colonel, as they walked 
 away, " is a strange combination. His influence for good 
 with the student body and his powers as a thinker and 
 educator are remarkable; but he is somewhat inacces 
 sible at times, when deep in psychological research, and 
 
130 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 he is tenacious of his theories, which are often Utopian, 
 I fear. You have simply to go ahead with your work, 
 take things as they come; remember that our boys are 
 rough, perhaps, but I have found them mighty ready when 
 it came to fighting. There s no better soldier stuff in the 
 world, captain, than you ll find right here only it isn t in 
 every man to know how to develop in peace time that 
 which in time of action almost develops itself. If I may 
 advise I should say start in quietly, win their good will 
 and handle them yourself. Pitt s mistake was in thinking 
 he was sent to make a military academy of a country 
 college. 
 
 " Strang s was in forever bothering the President 
 about matters of discipline. Prex knows the Bible, the 
 humanities, theology, psychology and metaphysics by 
 heart, but he has no more idea of what is military than I 
 have of the millennium. If Prex had his way all nations 
 should disarm forthwith, turn their spears into shares and 
 swords into pruning hooks. He hates the sound of a gun 
 or the sight of a soldier. He can t see why all men can t 
 be like himself, ascetic, abstinent and peace-loving so 
 long as undisturbed. He can t be made to see that he is 
 one of the most combative natures conceivable. Tread 
 on his toes or his theories and Prex is up in arms, a 
 fighter to the bitter end. That he calls spontaneous com- 
 bativeness. He says there is so much in human nature 
 that every appliance to aid or develop it should be elimi 
 nated, hence no arms, no drill, no soldiers." 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 131 
 
 " And yet," said Fane, " he is head of an institution 
 that has accepted large bounty from the Government on 
 condition of maintaining instruction in both tactics and 
 discipline ! How is that? " 
 
 " It is hard to explain," said West. " As I say, his is 
 a complex organism. Education is a part of his religion. 
 To teach and spread abroad the gospel, to disseminate his 
 theories, he regards as sacred duty. Every dollar that we 
 can command should be devoted to the cause, and every 
 energy not needed in teaching should be devoted to getting 
 the dollars. One-fifth of our income is derived through 
 that agricultural college act, and Prex thinks every cent of 
 it should go to the support of any department in the col 
 lege other than the military. He thinks the Government 
 wrong in providing for military instruction, therefore it s 
 right for him to divert its bounty to other purposes. Yet if 
 some of our big brewers or speculators or gamblers were 
 to offer to endow a chair or two or build a library or 
 establish scholarships he d quit before he d take a cent 
 from them." 
 
 They were nearly " home." The colonel lived in his 
 handsome house in town. The subaltern boarded in a 
 frame cottage by the lake. They had come to the parting 
 of the ways. The big buildings of the college loomed 
 behind them on the hill. The dense foliage hid the roofs 
 and spires of the inland city. It was well named. Fane 
 raised his hat and stood to let the senior pass him by. 
 " I think I ll walk round with you," said West. Then 
 
132 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 something like a blush surged up to his forehead. " It s 
 cooler along the shore." 
 
 The shaded path was beautiful. Several people were 
 sauntering along in peaceful enjoyment of the evening air. 
 They passed one or two men who formally touched the 
 hat, or nodded, to the Trustee. " Some of our instruct 
 ors," said he. " You ll get to know them after a while. 
 Here s one coming I want you to meet," and Fane and 
 Professor Lorimer shook hands and were mutually de 
 lighted. " Er I hope you won t be severe with our boys, 
 captain," said the professor at parting, and they went their 
 ways. A benevolent-looking, middle-aged man was lean 
 ing on a gate embowered in roses. " This is Captain Fane, 
 professor," said the Trustee. " I hope you ll be friends." 
 The professor was kindly and civil, begged them to enter 
 
 and be seated, but they had to go on. " I hope er 
 
 you won t be severe with our boys, captain," said the pro 
 fessor, as they parted. And this sentiment before they 
 reached home was the third time expressed, and Fane 
 turned to his mentor. " Why should I be or why should 
 they think it ? " he asked. 
 
 The colonel reflected a moment before committing him 
 self. " It is probably because you re a West Pointer, 1 
 said he. " Pitt was of our own volunteers. Strang was 
 from Bowdoin and Norwich. I believe you are the first 
 West Pointer seen in these parts since the war." 
 
 A curious train of thought was started only to suffer 
 sudden interruption. As they came to a leafy corner and 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 133 
 
 turned along the shore a carriage drove by in which were 
 two middle-aged women, facing front, to whom the 
 Trustee raised his hat. " Ladies from the Hall," said he. 
 " One is assistant in English Literature." But Fane s 
 wits were wandering. He had stopped short and was 
 staring after them. Two young women were seated fac 
 ing the elders. One was now smilingly giving ear 
 to her opposite neighbor. The face of the other was 
 hidden. She had bent forward in the carriage and was 
 still bending as it turned the corner. 
 
 " Someone you know ? " hazarded the colonel. 
 
 " Someone I thought " faltered the young officer: 
 
 then shook himself together. " But it s impossible ! " 
 
 West spoke again : " Our matron is evidently showing 
 the sights to our recent acquisitions. One of the younger 
 ladies was the new assistant in French Miss Hoyt." 
 
 And in this way and in this utterly out-of-the-way spot 
 the girl he loved had come back into the life of Ronald 
 Fane, and what promised to be a strange, perhaps a thank 
 less, task all on a sudden was endowed with thrilling 
 interest. It was a mercy that Jane stood there at the next 
 gate, for in her smiling welcome Colonel West lost sight 
 of the brother s startled, wonder-stricken face. 
 
 But happiness had not come with the discovery. For 
 months no line or word had passed between them, and he 
 had sought no explanation. It was enough that she should 
 have ceased to write. It was the easiest way to accept 
 the inevitable. If she had not dropped the correspondence 
 
134 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and him, he, in his changed fortunes and new filial and 
 family duties, would have been compelled to explain to 
 her. It was a mercy, though a bitter one, that it came as 
 and when it did. He had accepted it as beyond repair. 
 He positively had nothing to offer. She, presumably, had 
 everything to make life beautiful. He had never so much 
 as sought to learn where or how she was. It were all 
 best forgotten that brief, sweet dream and forever. 
 
 But now she was here here at Groveton, a teacher, 
 a dependent ! What could it mean but that some dire mis 
 fortune had befallen her? Now he could not, he should 
 not, lose a moment. That very evening he called at 
 Clifton Hall, sent his card to the matron and to Miss 
 Hoyt. The former received him wonderingly. The latter 
 received him not at all. Instead she sent this note: 
 
 I knew you would come as soon as you found that I was 
 here, therefore I should have had this ready, but I could not 
 write it. It was- like you to come, but, my friend, be my friend 
 and help me to bear myself bravely in these new duties. You 
 heard, of course, of our disgrace; there is no other word 
 for it. And it is strange indeed, now that I have my own way 
 to make in the world, that you should have been ordered here. 
 It is more than probable we may meet must meet; but when we 
 do meet let it be only as mere acquaintances who have met only 
 casually before. Sincerely, 
 
 ETHEL HOYT. 
 
 And they did meet, once when Fane was making a 
 formal call at the Governor s, once after " Rhetoricals," 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 185 
 
 and that was all. They exchanged a few conventionalities 
 on each occasion, he being confused, constrained and awk 
 ward. She being entirely self-controlled. , They saw each 
 other at intervals and at a distance about the grounds. 
 He saw her and sat where he could see her every Sun 
 day in church, but never yet in the six weeks of their 
 service within these " classic shades " of State College 
 had they met alone. Each had had much to encounter, 
 much to bear. Each would gladly have abandoned the 
 new and strange associations and returned to the old, but 
 he was hampered by financial bonds and filial duties. She 
 could only return by accepting conditions that were im 
 possible. 
 
 With many an obstacle to keep them asunder, there 
 was yet one overpowering force to link their lives. In 
 his moments of gravest discouragement Fane found it 
 impossible to think of throwing up the detail and going 
 elsewhere, so long as she was here. If only, he thought 
 and prayed, if only he could meet her and talk with her, 
 win her confidence he knew he had her faith and friend 
 ship even such unappreciated toil as his might yet, 
 through her sympathy, be blessed and glorified. Day and 
 night he thought of her, dreamed of her, lived for her, 
 bearing the poor mother s querulous complaints, the sis 
 ter s scorn of her surroundings, the sense of utter incon 
 gruity in his strange lot, the slings and arrows of odd, if 
 not outrageous, fortune bearing all that he might some 
 times see her lovely face, breathe the air she breathed, 
 
136 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and live in hope of speaking again with her uninterrupted 
 and alone. 
 
 And at last, marvel of the marvelous, the time had come. 
 At the base of this little" cedar-crested cliff and at this 
 sweet hour of early sunshine, before the busy day was 
 fairly begun, at the brink of this beautiful, placid, mist- 
 breathing mirror, one dainty foot perched on a little bowl 
 der at the edge of the lapping waters, her hat hanging 
 by its strings from her wrist, her eyes fixed upon the 
 distant shore, there stood the girl of his dreamland, and 
 at sound of his swift coming she turned, startled, and, 
 through swimming tears there was not time to brush 
 away, looked straight into the eager lighting face of the 
 man she knew to be her lover. It was too late to deny 
 him. It was too unlike her to think of flight. 
 
 " They told me you were in Chicago," she said, very 
 simply, as she withdrew her hand, also the swimming 
 eyes, for both his clasp and gaze were ardent. 
 
 " I was," he answered, " until last night. I went with 
 Colonel West that far and in hopes of meeting a brace of 
 our trustees, but they had gone, and he, to my sorrow, is 
 going." 
 
 "Is she so ill?" 
 
 The eyes were drying now, but it was still unsafe to 
 look at him. 
 
 " The doctor says she must have a long sea voyage. 
 They sail next week. I feel as though my only friend and 
 advocate were leaving me." 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 137 
 
 " Not that, Mr. Fane Captain Fane ! " she corrected 
 herself, with a shadow of a smile. " I hear from many 
 people who are in position to know, of the great work 
 you are doing with the students and the interest you have 
 inspired 
 
 " Among many, yes," he answered ; " but what makes 
 it galling is that so many others are allowed to evade 
 duty and then to triumph over those who have to attend. 
 It breeds discontent and trouble. But that is not what 
 I should be talking with you about. There are a thousand 
 things I wish to ask, to know, for, believe me, I know 
 nothing." And in his eagerness Fane had stepped close 
 to her side, his voice, his lips trembling a bit as he did 
 so. She noted both and drew back a pace, whereat he 
 followed. 
 
 " Don t ask ; don t know," she answered. " I never 
 speak of it to anybody. Moreover, I should not see you 
 here, or anywhere, in fact." Then bravely she looked up 
 and at him. She spoke abruptly : " You know me well 
 enough to know that had I dreamed of your coming here 
 I would not have come. I know you, I believe, well 
 enough to say that I am going now and you are not to 
 follow. That is the way to Cedar Point, is it not ? Thank 
 you yes ; good-morning, captain ! " And leaving him 
 half stupefied, she turned away. 
 
 Not ten steps had she taken when with prodigious 
 splash something heavy and massive, hurled from over 
 head, plunged into the rippling surface close at hand, 
 
158 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 showering him and sprinkling her with spray. A scramble 
 of footfalls, a snickering laugh, a sound of snapping twigs 
 and slashing branches came from the ledge above them, 
 Quick as the leap of a panther Fane darted into a little 
 pathway that led to the back of the rocks. Three or four 
 supple forms went bounding away through the under 
 brush. One young fellow, less lucky, stumbled, sprawled 
 at length, and before he could spring again to his feet 
 Fane s grasp was on his coat collar, and, with fury in his 
 eyes, the young officer whirled him about in the effort 
 to see his face. 
 
 " Let me go you ! You ve no right to 
 
 maul me ! " savagely, desperately cried the prisoner, and 
 a furious lunge supplemented the words. Fane s answer 
 was to thrust his fingers within the shirt collar, too, and 
 further to the front. Now the captive had to look up, 
 and a livid, scared, sweating face it was, and one that 
 Fane knew at a glance. 
 
 Slowly, gradually the young officer loosened his grasp 
 upon the culprit, his eyes still burning into the fellow s 
 hang-dog face. It was a moment before he could com 
 mand himself to speak: 
 
 " But for the fact that I have reason to know you and 
 your name," said he, " I should march you to the Presi 
 dent as you are. You are Stetson, mechanical engineering 
 student the man that submitted that lying physician s 
 certificate. Now, go ! " 
 
 The scowl blackened on the swollen, quivering face and 
 
IN CLASSIC SHADES 139 
 
 the instinct of the blackguard hissed in every word. The 
 answer came with a curse : 
 
 " You can t prove the half on me, by God, that I can 
 prove on you and I ll do it." 
 
 Perhaps it was God s mercy that Fane had but a single 
 arm available* 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 
 
 IT was indeed a strange world in which our soldier 
 found himself. Six weeks now had he been engaged 
 in his novel duties, and of the six members of the 
 Faculty, old or young, whose acquaintance he had formed 
 in that space of time, four had, with more or less im- 
 pressiveness, thought it a duty to express the hope that 
 he wouldn t " be severe with the boys." " What manner 
 of man do they think me ? " was the natural query. He 
 had met his new charges, the students of the two lower 
 classes, in a big wooden barn of a building called the 
 " gym." He had been notified by the President that each 
 class would drill two hours each week, that the Sopho 
 more company was already officered, and that he could 
 submit as soon as he pleased the names of the Freshmen 
 to be similarly appointed. Fane looked puzzled. " Ap 
 point undrilled, uninstructed men as officers, Mr. Presi 
 dent ? Is that the proposition ? " 
 
 " I don t know anything about that," was the quick 
 reply. " What I wish to avoid is friction. There is 
 always some feeling between the two classes, and I wish 
 them kept as far apart as possible ; therefore, the Fresh 
 men should have their own officers," and having so said 
 
 140 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 
 
 the President resumed his pen and manuscript to indicate 
 that the interview was at an end. It was a strange idea, 
 but Fane had learned subordination, and he went forth 
 to see how the scheme would work. 
 
 On the designated day, the first week of the term, about 
 eighty young men appeared as participants and about 
 one hundred and eighty as spectators. Recitations were 
 going on in the various buildings, and Fane wondered 
 how so many could be at the moment unemployed. A 
 civil inquiry led to the reply, " Oh, we ve nothing to do. 
 We re specials." A Sophomore in shoulder-straps sup 
 plemented this with the statement that only " regular " 
 students were compelled to drill. Fane looked about him 
 a moment. At one end of the gymnasium were grouped 
 some forty jovial young fellows armed with rifles, many 
 of them arrayed in blue flannel coats and caps of curious 
 and antique patterns. Along the back wall were scat 
 tered a like number of silent lads in all manner of 
 civilian garb. All over the gymnasium, perched on win 
 dow sills, ladders, and bars, squatted on up-ended Indian 
 clubs or dumb bells, or standing in groups about the 
 floor, were the would-be critics and spectators, latent 
 merriment and mischief in nearly every face ; in the midst 
 of the array stood the cavalry lieutenant, in accurate, 
 trim-fitting uniform, a light sabre at his side. Between 
 the soldier crowd and the spectators some little good- 
 natured chaff was volleying, but not a symptom off 
 surliness. With pleasing and patronizing interest the 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 self-styled " exempts " had come to observe and remark 
 upon the initial effort of their less fortunate fellows in 
 what they termed the awkward squads, and the squads, 
 both Sophomore and Freshmen, were prepared grudg 
 ingly and of necessity, but with such show of " don t 
 care " as they could command, to submit. It was the 
 way of the School. 
 
 And then, for the first time, Fane s voice was uplifted 
 in the " gym," where for long months thereafter he ruled 
 supreme. Long accustomed to instructing in the open 
 air, he spoke without effort and, purposely, in quiet tone. 
 There was even suspicion of humorous enjoyment 
 twitching at the corners of his mouth. 
 
 " It is our first lesson," said he, " and I had not 
 expected so big an attendance. But we ll do our best in 
 the limited space. All those designated for drill will 
 assemble at once at the north side. All others are cordi 
 ally invited to come in and see us after we get shaken 
 down to business, and meanwhile, kindly, to retire." 
 
 The shout of laughter, the burst of delighted applause 
 that instantly followed, told that at the critical moment 
 the stranger had made a " ten strike." Down from the 
 sills, ladders, bars and stoves swarmed the commentators, 
 and, followed by the shouts and sallies of the lately 
 down-cast, out they went into the September sunshine. 
 Then, only interrupted by chuckles of merriment repeat 
 edly breaking forth, the work begun. Fane set the class 
 leader to work at taking down the names, ages, addresses, 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 143 
 
 etc., of his forty-odd Freshmen, and told the Sophomore 
 captain to show what his men could do in the manual 
 of arms. There was some unsteadiness and " gazing 
 about," and very little erect carriage of head or body, 
 but the manual wasn t bad. Fane pointed out a few 
 defects: picked out the non-commissioned officers and 
 half a dozen likely looking privates to act as drill masters, 
 and then told off the Freshmen into little squads for 
 their initial lesson in the school of the soldier. Just 
 as he expected, not more than two of them had ever 
 handled a musket before. Not one, then, was fit to be an 
 officer. At the end of a busy hour, laughing, chatting 
 and in high good humor the battalion went its way to 
 other duties, and at two score students boarding-house 
 tables that day the tale was being told with merry chaff 
 and keen appreciation how " Cap " had sent the idlers 
 about their business, and how comical had been the first 
 drill. 
 
 But " Cap " himself went home thoughtful. The law 
 contemplated that all able-bodied students should be 
 instructed in the rudiments of military tactics and dis 
 cipline, otherwise the government couldn t begin to get 
 the worth of its money. According to the rolls there 
 were as many as four hundred young men at the college. 
 Of these nearly three hundred had not yet been two years 
 in attendance ; nearly one hundred and fifty had not been 
 two months. College regulations read that members of 
 the Sophomore and Freshmen classes were required to 
 
144 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 provide themselves with the inexpensive uniform of the 
 battalion, and to attend drills. According to the list 
 there were more one- and two-year students evading than 
 attending drill. It took him a few days to get all the 
 names and data. Meantime the gym proving too 
 small for so many squads, they were marched forth upon 
 the campus and thither flocked large numbers of the 
 under-graduates, mercilessly chaffing the squads and 
 coaching the " corporals." Fane could rule in the gym 
 nasium during drill hours that was his province but 
 the campus was free for all. A Sophomore officer, deeply 
 imbued with martial spirit and intent on his work, took 
 note by name of the would-be wits, and at the end of 
 the week Fane waited on the President with a list of 
 some eighty young men, none of whom attended and 
 many of whom impeded the drills. The President 
 looked up in obvious impatience. It was in office hours, 
 to be sure, but he could ill brook interruption when 
 engrossed in the preparation of lecture or chapter on his 
 favorite theme, or sermon for somebody s church, or 
 speech for some ward meeting. He was ever a prop 
 agandist of his views. The President hated to have to 
 come down to the vulgar details of school matters. He 
 broke in impatiently before Fane had said a dozen words. 
 " I don t know anything about that/ he said. " You ll 
 have to see the class officers." Then it transpired that a 
 dozen or more members of the Faculty were told off to 
 supervise the college work, each in charge of a dozen or 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 145 
 
 more students, and in the course of another forty-eight 
 hours Fane had succeeded, through these officials, in open 
 ing communication with most of the recalcitrants. These 
 latter were surprised to be called on to step forward and 
 explain. Some said that they " hadn t been told " ; some 
 said that their " folks didn t want them to drill " ; some 
 that they were opposed to all military despotism ; some that 
 as specials they didn t have to ; but most of them claimed 
 exemption becar.se of physical disability. Judging from 
 the excuses grudgingly made but firmly insisted on, one- 
 third of the under-graduates in the first and second year 
 at the State College were bodily wrecks. 
 
 The round-up had created no little excitement, and was 
 a source of delight and rejoicing to the regular members 
 of the battalion, tired of being twitted with having to 
 drill. It was human nature. Compelled themselves to 
 take the ordeal, they had no sympathy with those who 
 shirked, and less with those excused. For the first time 
 in his incumbency the President found himself hampered 
 with a military instructor who not only sought to bring 
 the students to book, but showed symptoms of stirring 
 up the Faculty. And what astonished the President was 
 that those students already enrolled were enthusiastically 
 with him. But now came trouble. 
 
 Fane s dragnet had resulted in the " conscription," as 
 they termed it, of some forty young fellows entirely will 
 ing to accept the free education given, in large measure 
 through the bounty of the Government, but correspond- 
 
146 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 ingly set against rendering any service whatever in 
 return. Some few owned up squarely and fairly and 
 took their medicine in a manly way. Some few sullenly 
 reported, and sullenly endured the drill. Some few 
 "kicked" stubbornly, and two or three showed fight. 
 One of these last-mentioned was a hulking lad of twenty 
 or twenty-one, beginning his second term at the college, 
 the son of a local politician of some repute, and the 
 putative leader of a gang of young miscreants that made 
 night hideous about certain near-by saloons, and the 
 first time Fane looked into the eyes of this local celebrity 
 he felt instinctively that there was work cut out for him. 
 The President ruled that all who could procure a phy 
 sician s certificate of disability should be excused. The 
 champion base runner of the college baseball club 
 tendered a note from his family physician to the effect 
 that the violent exercise of military drill would weaken 
 his heart. Fane replied that in ten months of military 
 drill the young man would not encounter as much violent 
 exercise as he did in ten minutes of baseball in ten sec 
 onds in fact. The President ruled that if wrong was 
 done and the Government defrauded, the physician was 
 accountable, not the Faculty, and the excuse stood, to the 
 derisive merriment of the battalion and the secret shame 
 of the baseball men. Two of the most promising pupils 
 in Professor Hitman s boxing class came armed with 
 the certificates of home doctors to the effect that they 
 had been feeble from infancy, and the weight of the 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 
 
 musket would be apt to injure the spine. The President 
 ruled that he could not accept the responsibility of flying 
 in the face of the professional opinions of recognized 
 practitioners, and the grinning athletes stood relieved 
 from the soldier duty to which Fane had drafted them. 
 The President s decision created immediate and lively 
 stir. Under-graduate ingenuity received remarkable 
 stimulus. Sophomore Van Dyne filed a certificate that 
 he was of feeble constitution, though he looked the 
 picture of health and strength. Fane wrote to the doctor 
 in the case, and the letter came back undelivered. Fane 
 wrote the postmaster for explanation, and the post 
 master said no doctor of that name ever lived or prac 
 ticed there. Fane laid the matter before the President, 
 with the result that Mr. Van Dyne was promoted into 
 the junior class, passing a very creditable examination 
 in classics, etc. Fane told the President the man had 
 submitted a forged or bogus certificate, and deserved to 
 be punished accordingly. The President said that he 
 didn t know anything about that; what he did know 
 was that Van Dyne was no longer subject to the rules 
 of the military instructor. Of the twenty certificates 
 submitted probably one-third could not have borne inves 
 tigation, but the President ruled that they were final. 
 But the most flagrant case was that first referred to. 
 The strong, sturdy young fellow had been caught in the 
 dragnet, and after scowlingly submitting to one drill 
 and dodging the next, found himself face to face with 
 
148 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 orders to make up what he had lost. It was done in 
 studies, said Fane, therefore should it be done in drills. 
 He then came with a certificate setting forth that he had 
 been subject to fits since early boyhood, and the excite 
 ment of drill would probably bring them on again. Fane 
 found the doctor, a young beginner, and comparative 
 stranger, and the doctor said he based the certificate 
 entirely on the young man s personal statements. 
 Neither personally nor professionally had he ever known 
 him before. A Sophomore officer who had lived next 
 door to the sufferer some fifteen years and had seen him 
 nearly every day said he had never even heard of his 
 having a fit. Fane refused to excuse the applicant, who 
 thereupon absented himself, and when summoned before 
 the President said his father had forbidden his going to 
 drill, and was coming to see the President about it. 
 Pending the call of this parent, a " dealer in spirits " and 
 " ward boss " with whom the President w r as widely at 
 odds, the young man held aloof from the gymnasium, 
 and this was the situation when early on this beautiful 
 Indian summer morning he stumbled again into the 
 clutches of Fane, with the result described. 
 
 It was his second year at the college, as has been said, 
 and he had not a friend in the Faculty. All who knew 
 him at all had but one opinion to express. . He had been 
 idle, surly, a truant and a ne er-do-well. He had been 
 before the President a dozen times, and always for 
 rebuke or reprimand. He now appeared as a complain- 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 149 
 
 ant. He had been assaulted, he said, and abused by the 
 military instructor, and the President, bethinking him of 
 the stories of two or three others who declared their 
 religious sentiments had been made to suffer because of 
 the harsh language at drill, conceived it time to enjoin 
 the instructor. It was not yet office hour when Fane 
 received a summons to attend the President, and found 
 him, as usual, at his desk immersed in manuscript, not 
 withstanding a lively racket in the corridor without. 
 A lot of Sophomores, awaiting the bell for " second 
 period," had congregated on the stairway and were 
 skylarking with such Freshmen as happened along. The 
 President opened the matter with customary direct 
 ness: 
 
 " A student complains er Mr. Mr. Fane, that you 
 violently assaulted him this morning, and certain others 
 have stated that the abusive language they had to hear 
 at drill was the main cause of their aversion to it. Now, 
 I maintain that no man is fit to command others who 
 cannot command himself. Oblige me by stepping to that 
 door and asking those young men to stop that dis 
 turbance. Ah, never mind, I hear Professor Nash." 
 (Indeed for a moment Professor Nash could be heard, 
 piping feeble remonstrance. Then the fun began again. 
 So did the President.) "Ah, what I wish to impress 
 upon you is that under no circumstances is an instructor 
 warranted in laying hands on a student. We do not 
 countenance such meas " But here the row with- 
 
150 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 out became uproarious, and Fane could not distinctly 
 hear. 
 
 " Your pardon, sir," he said, stepping nearer. " If 
 Mr. Stetson is the complaining student, I have " 
 
 But the President uplifted both voice and hand. 
 
 " One moment. Let me finish, then I ll hear " 
 
 But it was impossible to hear. The stairway was evi 
 dently blockaded a "rush," unpremeditated but none 
 the less enthusiastic, had been suddenly precipitated. 
 " Soph " and " Fresh " were clinched in rejoiceful, delir 
 ious battle for supremacy. Weight, inertia and numbers 
 were telling in favor of the Freshies, steadily shoving 
 down the stairs, but, with bull-like roarings the Sophs 
 struggled, and stood firm. To Fane s intense delight, up 
 sprang the head of the college. Four strides took him 
 to the door, which he flung wide open, and in another 
 second he had two of the battlers by the scruff of the 
 neck and with all the strength of his long, lean, sinewy 
 arms was banging their heads together, and one head 
 was that of the recent complainant Mr. Stetson. 
 
 Two minutes before Fane was beginning to bristle 
 with indignation. Now he was bubbling over with mer 
 riment. The combatants went scurrying away. The 
 noise without had suddenly ceased. The President, 
 flushed and victorious, returned to his seat and the pur 
 suit of the theme. Fane had never before warmed to 
 him had never seen him warm. " Prex " was human, 
 &fter all, Trembling a bit as the result of his violent 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 151 
 
 and unaccustomed exertion, and pausing, perhaps for 
 breath, the President sat turning over the letters and 
 papers on his much littered desk. Fane, much more at 
 ease, though still at attention, now stood patiently wait 
 ing. The President presently looked up and discovered 
 him. 
 
 " A er what was it we were discussing? " he asked. 
 
 " The impropriety of laying hands on a student, sir," 
 answered Fane, with much gravity. 
 
 " A er yes," and then, for the first time in the six 
 weeks Fane had known him, something like a smile, a 
 frosty fringe of a smile, appeared at the outer edge of the 
 thin, ascetic lips. " There may be occasions rare 
 occasions when " and the President faltered. 
 
 " When the suaviter in modo gives place to the 
 fortiter in re?" suggested Fane respectfully, yet with 
 certain enjoyment of fie situation. 
 
 The President looked up in evident surprise. This 
 soldier seemed to know something of Latin. If so, he 
 might have known something of school or even college 
 life. 
 
 The possibility had not previously occurred to him, 
 but only because he had given it no thought whatever. 
 He looked as though about to say " I did not quite under 
 stand you," but, instead, said for a moment nothing. 
 
 Fane took up the thread of talk. " I certainly seized 
 that young scapegrace by the collar this morning, I pos 
 sibly shook him, and I am glad to see that you followed 
 
152 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 suit. He deserves much more than either of us gave 
 him." 
 
 " That is not for us to determine. We both lost our 
 temper. I shall probably send for him and apologize 
 and " But again the President faltered. 
 
 " I shall certainly not" promptly spoke the soldier. 
 " On the contrary, I have serious charges to add to those 
 already laid against that young man, and was coming 
 to you at office hour. He appears to have had earlier 
 audience." 
 
 " I met him er accidently," said the President, flush 
 ing a bit. " There was a party of them, over-stimulated, 
 possibly, running through the grove from the lake early 
 this morning. They were noisy and profane." 
 
 " I hope you recognized the others, sir." 
 
 " They were not students, those whom I caught sight 
 of, at least, but after them, limping and much disar 
 ranged, came this young man. It was then he told me 
 that one of your requirements was that he should salute 
 you whenever you met, and let me say, Mr. Mr. Fane, 
 that I think you err in attempting to inculcate that which 
 you cannot enforce. This is not a military institution, 
 and military methods should not be resorted to, especially 
 if violence is to follow. I hope you in future will bear 
 this in mind." 
 
 And now the President was himself again and desirous 
 of closing the incident and his ears. 
 
 But Fane s blood was up and his temper was rising. 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 153 
 
 He would not go. " Mr. President," said he, firmly and 
 decidedly, " before ever I went to West Point I attended 
 a while a college one hundred years older" (he was 
 tempted to say " and ten times better") "than this, and 
 the first lesson we received from the lips of the President 
 was, now that we were duly matriculated, it was a 
 courtesy and a duty we owed to the members of the 
 Faculty, when we met them on or of! the grounds, to 
 raise the cap and tender respectful salutation. Here I 
 find that neither on nor off the grounds has it been a 
 custom. Students sometimes touch their hats to you 
 and to those to whom they recite, but as a rule Fresh 
 men and Sophomores, too, pass their superiors with no 
 sign of recognition. Indeed, I am told by those few 
 professors whom I know that they have sometimes been 
 shoved off the sidewalks by a solid phalanx of these 
 young fellows, linked arm in arm. I have taught them 
 that, as they were here beneficiaries of the State and the 
 nation, receiving fine education free, it was both a 
 courtesy and a duty that they owed to the State and to 
 the college to show respect to officials. I have told them 
 that when in the uniform of the battalion they shoukj 
 tender a soldierly salute. When not in unform thej 
 should raise the hat to you and to every professor and 
 instructor. Nine-tenths of them are doing it, and are tb^ 
 better for doing it. It is only the caddish and the viciq .is 
 among them that refuse." 
 
 " I m not so sure about that," said the Present. 
 
154 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " Now, when 7 meet a student I take off my hat to him, 
 then, if he s a gentleman at heart, he takes off his to me. 
 If he isn t a gentleman I really prefer that he shouldn t 
 know me." 
 
 Fane smiled. " One young man asked me if I 
 expected him to tip his hat to you, sir, when he hadn t 
 even been introduced, and was surprised to be told yes. 
 He then went on to say that he had raised his hat and 
 the President looked so surprised he feared he d been 
 taking a liberty. At all events, the President did not 
 return the salutation. Others, too, have told me that. 
 It confirms my theory that it has not been a custom here 
 in the past." 
 
 " That is possibly so that is possibly so," said the 
 President. " I am sometimes absent minded to a fault 
 and fail to see what perhaps I should see. I shall cer 
 tainly keep that in mind." So the head of the college 
 had a fair side to him after all. The interview was 
 becoming productive of good results. The President, 
 who was there to censure, was finding himself, perhaps, 
 on the defensive. Morever, this young man whom he 
 had looked upon as some kind of a stage supernumerary, 
 skilled in teaching the broadsword exercise and how to 
 handle a musket, had moved apparently in other circles 
 than that of the camp. This had not occurred to him 
 on the two occasions when he had summoned the Faculty 
 in general, once to a meeting at the chapel, once to a 
 social affair at his house. The officer had been omitted 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 155 
 
 entirely. The two or three professors and professors 
 wives who noted the absence, ascribed it to the deep 
 mourning worn by the stranger s mother and sisters, 
 upon whom as yet none of their number had called. Yet 
 their appearance on Sunday when they were seen on 
 way to and from church was very much in their favor. 
 They had come, however, without letters of introduction. 
 Their friends, Colonel and Mrs. West, were gone. Then 
 there were other reasons, too. Mrs. Fane and Clare 
 had not been over-cautious in their allusions to the 
 provincial nature of pretty much everything about them, 
 animal, vegetable or mineral. Nor had good Mrs. Jam- 
 ieson, the landlady, been slow as a transmitter of their 
 expressed opinions. 
 
 Little by little, before the end of the six weeks, the 
 President was beginning to see that this military business 
 might prove to be an adjunct of value after all. Vet 
 eran professors told him that there was marked change 
 in the language and demeanor of the so-called battalion 
 students in the section room. They sat or stood up 
 straight, were respectful in bearing, and surprising in 
 that they said " sir," something hitherto almost unknown. 
 It took the veterans back to old days at Yale and Har 
 vard, Brown and Dartmouth. The Governor, a war-time 
 soldier, and certain State officials had within that very 
 week dazed the President by referring to the remarkable 
 change for the better in the street manners of the stu 
 dent body. " Last year they nearly ran me into the 
 
156 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 gutter," said the executive. " This year, by Jupiter, they 
 actually salute me ! " The President had gone home 
 pondering. This thing he had branded as a necessary 
 evil might have its good side after all. He had risen 
 early that morning to see for himself the voluntary drill 
 conducted before breakfast for the benefit of those who 
 took lively interest in the matter. Reveille was sounded, 
 and the flag run up at the gym, too far from Clifton 
 Hall or the nearest lodging or fraternity houses to dis 
 turb anybody, yet it had been complained of by oppo 
 nents of the military department. He, too, supposed the 
 captain to be still in Chicago, and he wished to satisfy 
 himself that there was no riotous disorder, as claimed. 
 Suddenly he had been nearly swept off his feet by a rush 
 of burly racers bursting through the grove, and then 
 had fairly collided with their erstwhile leader, now but a 
 rueful and raging follower, and the President had heard 
 his explanation, and accusation. It had not occurred to 
 him to ask what brought the party to the lake shore at 
 this early and unusual hour. Stetson had the reputation 
 of being an owl, not an early bird. Thinking only of 
 the lesson to be inculcated, he had sent, three hours later, 
 for the military instructor, and even while reproving 
 him for a most unscriptural laying on of hands, had 
 himself been betrayed into a vehement exploitation of the 
 fault he condemned, and this too at the expense of the 
 same victim. In spite of widely different teaching and 
 temperament, the scholar and soldier had met on the 
 
A CAT IN A STRANGE GARRET 157 
 
 common plane of human frailty. In spite of mutual , 
 antagonism the two were being drawn together. The 
 lamb and the lion might even yet have lain down together 
 in mutual amity and regard, but it was not so to be. The 
 janitor entered at the moment, after unanswered tapping 
 at the door. 
 
 " A gentleman to see the President, sir, and can t wait 
 Mr. Stetson." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A CLASH IN CLASSICS 
 
 THE President looked perturbed. " It is not my 
 hour for receiving," said he, " but this man and 
 I have clashed continually. Perhaps you might 
 go out this way," and the President indicated the door 
 that led to the scene of the recent scuffle. Fane did not 
 wish to go until he had made his formal report of young 
 Stetson s misconduct, but the intimation admitted of no 
 argument. " I ll return then at noon, sir," said he, and 
 vanished. 
 
 It was about the middle of the second period. The 
 students were all at recitation. After twelve, and more 
 or less grudgingly, the President would receive and listen 
 to callers on college matters, but he much preferred the 
 Faculty should settle all questions at the weekly meeting. 
 Some matters, however, would not wait, and Fane s was 
 one of them. He held that an example should be made 
 of young Stetson forthwith, and had determined to press 
 the matter. With over an hour to wait he bethought 
 himself of the library. He had no office, he had no 
 room, he had no desk. The big barn of a gymnasium 
 was unfurnished. He had so reported to the President 
 
 158 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 159 
 
 when asking for a place to keep his books, records, etc. 
 The President, as usual, said he didn t know anything 
 about that. He couldn t see why there should be any 
 records or books in military drill, and if there were, why 
 could they not be kept at home. " But you might take a 
 chair in the library," said he, "and even have a desk 
 there if you ve got a desk." Fane had no desk and the 
 President had no funds available to buy one, and other 
 use for them, had funds been available. Even the bul 
 letin board and stationery the young officer found indis- 
 pensible were ordered and paid for by himself. Thou 
 sands of dollars came to the college through the military 
 department, but not one cent would it spend for the only 
 department that paid for itself. The President had 
 referred him to the Trustees, the Trustees were scattered, 
 but the Chairman of the Executive Committee was in 
 town. To him Fane had gone, only to be told the Com 
 mittee could disburse nothing except on the written 
 recommendation of the President. This, as it turned 
 out, was not strictly true, but it was sufficient. It would 
 be a month or more before the Trustees met, and he 
 could bring his various claims before them. This morn 
 ing, therefore, he found a seat in a dim corner of the 
 library, and with pencil and paper went to work on cer 
 tain estimates. Four or five students were reading at 
 the tables. The librarian and his assistants were noise 
 lessly at their work. They looked up curiously at the 
 cavalry uniform, a strange and unaccustomed sight, but 
 
160 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 said nothing. Two young girls from Clifton Hall, with 
 their curly heads close together, were poring over some 
 big book of reference in a window niche. Everything 
 spoke of order and decorum. The big bell in the tower 
 presently tolled the hour of eleven, whereat for a few 
 minutes there were sounds of many footfalls on the 
 flagstones without, and cheery voices on the autumn air. 
 Then all was quiet again. Another period had begun, 
 and Fane, tiring of his pencil work and seeking knowl 
 edge, strolled quietly about the book-bordered aisles 
 and alcoves, and presently, over in a rather remote 
 corner, deep hidden between sheltering walls of calf 
 and vellum, he caught sight of the face and form of a 
 fair reader, absorbed in her task. She never raised her 
 head until, with a start, she realized the presence of this 
 man in martial dress, and the color rushed to her face. 
 It was the first time he had taken her utterly unawares. 
 At the cedars, at early morn, she had heard him coming 
 before he hove in sight. Here, there was not a second s 
 warning. He saw the blush, and he blessed it. " Talk 
 ing strictly forbidden," was the legend on the walls, so 
 neither spoke, but silence was eloquent. Their lips 
 moved and their eyes shone bright, yet both were embar 
 rassed. " I had not dreamed this possible," he mur 
 mured. 
 
 " It mustn t be again," she whispered in reply. 
 Then, inconsequently, " Did you tell me Colonel West 
 would be gone some time ? " 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 161 
 
 " All winter, I fear. Tell me, you have met my sister, 
 and i s it imagination ? she spoke as though you seemed 
 to avoid her." 
 
 The color slowly mounted to the face that seemed so 
 pale but the moment before he spoke. She bowed her 
 head as though to think before replying. Then, her 
 hands clasping above the heavy volume that lay before 
 her, she looked one instant up into his eyes. The love 
 in them burned even through her quickly lowered lids. 
 
 " I should have been so glad to know her elsewhere," 
 she answered faintly. "Everyone likes her, respects 
 her. She is so capable, so cheerful and brave an exam 
 ple to us others, but then " 
 
 " Then what? " and he bent lower. 
 
 " I shrink from speaking to anyone of last year, and 
 of having known you, and I feared she might ask." 
 
 " Jane is a silent woman, Miss Ethel. She says noth 
 ing about any of you. I had to drag it out of her." 
 
 "That I seemed to avoid her?" Up glanced the 
 violet, heavily fringed eyes again; then down. 
 
 " That she had even met you. I was impatient. I 
 had to ask." 
 
 " I wish you hadn t. Please don t again." 
 
 "But, can t you see? It is only through her that I 
 can hope to meet you." 
 
 " And that is just what I wish to avoid." 
 
 "Wish to?" and now he straightened suddenly and 
 drew away. 
 
162 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " Need to ! Oh, you know what I mean, Captain 
 Fane. It is " 
 
 But here she, too, suddenly straightened and sat erect 
 in her chair. The soft eyes that had begun to brim over 
 now began to blaze. A flush of indignation swept to her 
 brows, and, following the direction of her gaze, he who 
 had again bent low at her sweet yet reluctant admission, 
 whirled to his left and there, leering at them from the 
 entrance to the little alcove, barely six feet away, stood 
 a short, stout, florid, loudly-dressed man of fifty: an 
 unprepossessing person at any time, a most objectionable 
 specimen at the moment. But the grin about the coarse 
 and bearded lips faded slowly. The bold insolence of 
 his gaze died out of the red-rimmed eyes, for in an 
 instant, planting himself between the intruder and the 
 girl, Fane faced him squarely with an uncompromising 
 "What do you want?" and the ring in the low-toned 
 query lifted every head in the room and brought the 
 librarian tip-toeing and remonstrant from his desk. 
 
 " I m looking for Cap Fane," said the visitor uneasily, 
 twirling his hat and shifting to the other foot, cased in 
 its shiny patent leather. 
 
 " Fane is my name. Cap is not my title. Come 
 outside," was the answer, and the officer led the way 
 to the outer air. At the head of the broad stone steps 
 and in the full glare of the meridian sunshine he again 
 turned upon his caller, and then almost recoiled, 
 startled. 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 163 
 
 Somewhere he had seen and known something 
 in that face or in the mate to that face; had seen, 
 had known and had grown to hate it, for the sight of 
 this one, already assuming apologetic, appeasing, con 
 ciliatory semblance of a smile, was enough to set his 
 finger nails biting into his palm, and to fill his eyes 
 with fire. 
 
 The man saw it, the clinch of the white fist, the set 
 of the teeth, the stern, intent, threatening gaze straight 
 into his eyes, and sensibly he began to cringe. He had 
 come confident, truculent, ready to bully. He was 
 whipped without a sign of encounter. 
 
 " I just left old man Parsons," he nervously began, 
 " and he told me to see you. It s about my boy." 
 
 " One moment. Old man Parsons, did you say ? " 
 And the right hand, evading the moist and pudgy mem 
 ber extended in awkward essay, went up to the visor of 
 the forage-cap and pulled it further down upon the 
 scarred eyebrow, then drew back behind the hip." 
 
 " Old man Parsons, yes," was the hesitant answer. 
 "The President, you know." 
 
 " The President I do know, but never as Old Man 
 Parsons," and all the time Fane was studying that 
 strangely familiar face with menacing eyes. The man 
 who had come, as he told his bunch of cronies an hour 
 before, " to eat up that young rooster," was wilting 
 under the unsparing scrutiny. 
 
 " Well uh Cap Captain, it s this way. That boy 
 
164 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 of mine he ain t fit to tend drill and tote a twenty- 
 pound gun. He s been sickly ever since he was a kid." 
 
 " That s the reason he s out all night gambling over 
 at the Island?" 
 
 In spite of its mahogany flush a shade of gray stole 
 over the coarse face, but it was not yet time to sur 
 render. 
 
 " He only went out for a swim. You see he can t 
 sleep now like he could before they began that damn early 
 morning hornblowing up the hill," began the defender, 
 but dropped it. That grim young fighting face in front 
 of his had too much in reserve. 
 
 " That won t do, sir. You couldn t hire him to take 
 a swim, with the frost thick on the shore. I saw the 
 boatload of six coming back at reveille. Now to cut 
 this short, I have reported your son absent from every 
 drill but one since the term began, and for tendering a 
 certificate he knew to be false. I have much more to 
 report of him now." 
 
 " But, Captain, just a minute. The old the Presi 
 dent said I was just to see you and we could fix it up 
 between us. I ain t saying the boy s all right, only you 
 see he worked this game through all last year without 
 their making him drill, and he thought he could work it 
 again. You d do the same if you were a boy." 
 
 But Fane held up his hand. " Mr. Stetson," said he 
 " it is no longer a matter of drill. It is a matter of 
 decency. In five minutes I mean to recommend his 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 165 
 
 expulsion. You can come and say what you like to the 
 President, but " 
 
 And here the great bell in the tower began its solemn 
 toll of twelve. From halls and corridors in the adjacent 
 buildings the students came trooping noisily forth. 
 From the doorway behind them three or four young girls 
 stepped into the sunlight and glanced half curiously, half 
 timidly at the strangely assorted pair, opposites in almost 
 every detail of feature, form and dress. Then came the 
 librarian, ushering before him a few laggards and hold 
 ing open the heavy door for others still to follow. His 
 assistant came and went, and still he stood, looking back, 
 impatient. And finally She came, hurriedly and with 
 downcast eyes, and Fane lifted his cap and bowed low, 
 a reverence she noticed with the merest upward sweep 
 of the lids, the faintest inclination of the head, and passed 
 swiftly down the broad steps and round the eastern 
 corner, followed by the eyes of two, at least, until out of 
 sight. 
 
 Then when Fane, without further word to his visitor, 
 would have started for the office, the latter spoke. He 
 was tremulous now with wrath. 
 
 "You may think, young feller, that you re cock of 
 this walk," said he, " but there s more n one way of 
 bringing a man to his senses. You get that boy of mine 
 into trouble and, by God, I ll settle you if it takes a mil 
 lion ! " He clapped his low-topped Derby on his round 
 head with vindictive thump. " Perhaps that will be one 
 
166 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 way! " and a jerk of the head in the direction taken by 
 Miss Hoyt told too well what he meant. 
 
 Fane was back in a twinkling, his own face now white 
 with fury, his rattan switch shaking in his clinched right 
 hand. The big man backed off until held by the railing. 
 The librarian uplifted his hands. " Oh, don t oh, 
 please ! " he cried, aghast at such utterly unclassical 
 symptoms. Professor Sharpe, passing rapidly, seemed 
 to read the indications at a glance, and ran to the steps. 
 He, too, had grown to like the soldier, and with con 
 sternation in his eyes saw that one available hand 
 uplifted as though to strike. Instantly he sprang and 
 seized the supple wrist. " Not that ! Not that, Cap 
 tain ! " he pleaded. " Come with me. I know this 
 man," and sought to draw him away. But Fane stood 
 fast, though he lowered him arm. He was quivering 
 from head to foot, and when he found words to speak 
 the hardened bully above him on the steps shrank, despite 
 his assumed bravado. 
 
 " Somewhere I have seen you or your double 
 before. Now, mark my words. Threaten me all you 
 please or dare, but attempt to carry out that last threat, 
 you know what I mean, you blackguard, and you ll 
 never bully again ! " 
 
 Then Sharpe led him, still quivering, away. 
 
 Five days later there was a lively discussion at the 
 meeting of the Faculty. The President, the Board of 
 Professors and most of the elder instructors were pres- 
 
FANE WAS BACK IN A TWINKLING, His OWN FACE Now WHITE WITH FURY 
 
; . . 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 167 
 
 ent. The head of the military department had, as yet, 
 never been bidden to attend. When later called upon 
 to say how or why it had not occurred to him that it was 
 Captain Fane s right and privilege to appear, and that 
 he should have been invited, the President said he really 
 didn t know. It never had occurred to him, however, 
 that a soldier had any place in that body, or would even 
 care to attend. There was no one, therefore, to repre 
 sent the case of what might be called the General Gov 
 ernment vs. Stetson. Of all the names on the under 
 graduate rolls this one stood pre-eminent as having been 
 most frequent before the Faculty. They all knew it, 
 and knew no good of it. They had heard, many of 
 them, that it was freighted now with charges that were 
 more serious than ever before. They had heard, some 
 of them, the student s side of the story, for, accompanied 
 by one of the Trustees, a politician of much prominence 
 and some power, the father had called upon several of 
 their number. They had heard, a limited few, like 
 Sharpe and Lorimer, that the instructor s charges, if sus- 
 stained, would warrant expulsion or prolonged suspen 
 sion. They had heard, none of them, the entire story, 
 nor was it likely they ever would, with Fane unsum- 
 moned. They were assembled in some embarrassment, 
 because in the minds of many of them this thought was 
 uppermost: Action adverse to that particular student 
 would crystallize the antagonism of that particular 
 Trustee. 
 
168 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Of just what arguments were brought to bear, of the 
 precise nature of the conference, no man present could 
 or would thereafter give accurate account. It was 
 admitted that the President opened the case in " gin 
 gerly " fashion, which, being interpreted, meant that there 
 was no " ginger," in the modern acceptance of the term, 
 in either his prelude or his summing up. It was remem 
 bered that several spoke pathetically of this view of the 
 case, that the youth had been motherless for many 
 years, the father immersed in business (he owned three 
 saloons within the corporate limits of Groveton and 
 another on the Island) and there had been no one to 
 guard the lad from evil. Another point was the paternal 
 devotion now so vividly in evidence. It was much to 
 the credit of Stetson, senior, himself destitute of college 
 or religious training, that he should be so bent on his boy s 
 obtaining both under the guidance of our President. 
 (A capital point, that!) It was hinted delicately, diplo 
 matically, that, while the natural enthusiasm of American 
 youth for military glory, and the drill as now conducted, 
 something in the nature of a new toy, made a combin 
 ation that served to develop unusual and unlooked-for 
 interest in a large number of students, there were still 
 young men who seriously opposed it, and it was inti 
 mated that such young men were made the object of 
 especial perhaps spite was too strong a word to 
 employ especial attention on part of the new and very 
 zealous instructor, who, it might be said without dis- 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 169 
 
 paragement or prejudice, was possibly a trifle intolerant 
 of unmilitary men or methods. He had been so long 
 " encased in the West Point strait-jacket " that he had 
 as yet not sufficiently broadened, it might be hazarded; 
 to appreciate the true characteristics of the young Amer 
 ican citizen. In fine, while there was much to be said, as 
 remarked one gifted professor, on both sides, there was 
 little said except on one. After an hour of the sort of 
 talk recorded above, the Faculty were in more than com 
 plaisant mood and the whole case might have gone by 
 default had not Lorimer finally got the eye of the Presi 
 dent and the ear of his fellows. Sharpe had made one 
 or two attempts, but the President, apparently, would not 
 give him the floor. Lorimer spoke, spoke cautiously, 
 courteously and yet to the point. He was one of the 
 very few, he said, who had made the acquaintance of the 
 young officer. He had seen in him nothing of the 
 martinet, but very much of the gentleman. He was 
 impressed with his arguments and his earnestness, and 
 he deemed it due to the Government, to the college, to 
 the Faculty and to the instructor himself that the latter 
 should be heard. He therefore moved that the whole 
 subject be postponed until next regular meeting, a 
 fortnight hence, and that Captain Fane be invited to 
 attend and address them. 
 
 Glad enough to temporize, the Faculty so voted, the 
 President so ordered, adding of his own motion, how 
 ever, that, pending final action, the student in the case, 
 
170 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " while not expected to drill, would attend all classes," 
 which gave that ingenuous youth the appearance of hav 
 ing come out topmost in the fight, as he continued to be 
 present at such functions as he choose to attend, and 
 absent from all others. 
 
 It was an arrangement that could not fail to bear 
 fruit, and bitter fruit at that. 
 
 In his brief arraignment of the student Fane had 
 confined himself to his deliberate absences, to his false 
 certificate, and to his blasphemous abuse of an instructor. 
 In no wise had Miss Hoyt been referred to. It was a 
 question from sister Jane that opened the brother s eyes 
 to the fact that despite his caution her name might be 
 dragged in. It was the anxiety and the instant flush 
 in his face that opened her eyes to the possibilities in the 
 case, and Jane was wise. She did not press her question. 
 She wached and waited. The mother had been ailing a 
 bit. The sofa and the magazines had been her solace 
 of late, for Lady Clare had troubles of her own, and was 
 not too helpful. The mother missed, and missed inex 
 pressibly, the gayety and gossip of garrison life the 
 attentions paid the wife of the commanding officer. 
 Never until now had she found herself the object of so 
 little consideration. Pet, engrossed in her young hus 
 band and her wifely and social duties, wrote only twice 
 a week, when the mother would barely have been content 
 had she written twice a day. Clare had been moping 
 much, and was too full of sighing to be a comfort. Jane 
 
A CLASH IX CLASSICS 171 
 
 and Ronald had many busy hours each day at college, 
 yet managed to spend their evenings mostly at the 
 mother s side, and to give her some time every afternoon. 
 By common consent she was to be told little or nothing 
 of any unpleasant experience either Jane or he might 
 encounter; but, in that bustling community, it was 
 unlikely that she should hear nothing of what so vehe 
 mently interested her son. The four mother, daugh 
 ters and son occupied a little table in the dining-room 
 separate from that of the students, which was thrice 
 daily crowded with joyous, eager young fellows in the 
 prime of life and vigor, lads who were often in uproar 
 ious spirits and were seldom silent. The mother had 
 persuaded herself she was accepting her changed fort 
 unes and her hard luck with Christian resignation and 
 cheerfulness, but Jane could see, as well as others, how 
 the son was saddened by her frequent moan. Jane saw, 
 too, how his spirit and temper were being tried by the 
 annoyances and obstacles thrown in his way. She heard 
 she could not help lirq"""g ammy the " co-eds," her 
 pupils all manner of student chatter and gossip about 
 the affairs in the military department Then she began 
 to hear other whispers and to note the eagerness of his 
 questions about Miss Hoyt. Then she remembered what 
 someone had written the summer so long ago, so very 
 long ago, it seemed, though it was but the previous year, 
 of Ronald s devotions to a girl at West Point. Wisely 
 therefore she waited. She would not add to his worries 
 
173 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 now, for they were many. Everything depended on that 
 Faculty meeting. She would wait for that. 
 
 It came and, sharp at the appointed time, Fane was on 
 hand. Sharpe and Lorimer greeted him with much cor 
 diality and presented him to one or two elders who had 
 expressed a desire to meet him. The President came, 
 and without greeting to anybody went straight to busi 
 ness. The cases of certain students reported for absence 
 from recitations or " rhetoricals," and for minor infrac 
 tions of college rules, were taken up and discussed with 
 much spirit, and Fane sat a silent listener. He noted that 
 while a certain few of the Faculty said little or nothing, 
 that one, indeed, of their number sat with closed eyes, 
 there were others that were keenly alert in every case, 
 and the Professor of Oratory and Elocution spoke upon 
 all. The President would let the talk and argument pro 
 ceed until it wearied him, then, with abrupt decision, end 
 it by the announcement that Student So-and-So would be 
 suspended, sustained, penalized or admonished, as seemed 
 to him expedient or necessary, and in four cases out of 
 five there was not a murmur of dissent. Fane could not 
 fail to see that the decisions met the view of the major 
 ity, and that " the punishment fit the crime." What he 
 asked himself, after much more than an hour s observa 
 tion, was, Why the cases were submitted to the Faculty 
 at all? for the President decided without reference 
 to the argument. It was late in the day, and all 
 were wearied when at last the President announced, 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 173 
 
 " And now we come to the last case, that of Stetson, 
 held over from last meeting. I shall ask Mr. er 
 Captain Fane, if he is present " ( for the President had 
 not seemed to see him) " to state the case from his point 
 of view." 
 
 Fane had sometimes figured as judge advocate of a 
 general court, and was not unused to presenting a case. 
 Hitherto his auditors had been made up exclusively of 
 military men. Here there was not one. Some in fact 
 were women. He spoke briefly, and had schooled him 
 self to speak calmly. From his point of view, the West 
 Point view, the presentation of a false certificate was the 
 gravest offense. He was surprised to find that it seemed 
 to make but faint impression. He finished somewhat 
 lamely, abruptly, and amidst silence The President 
 reflected a moment, then spoke: 
 
 " This whole matter is, I confess, perplexing to me for 
 various reasons. Mr. the captain regards it more 
 seriously than I had been prepared to expect. He has 
 indeed referred to his duties, in conversation with me, in 
 a way to make me suppose that he considers that we are 
 bound to require our students to attend these drills 
 whether they like it or not. Am I not right ? " 
 
 Fane again arose. " That is certainly my view, sir. 
 It is what I should call an implied contract. The Gov 
 ernment agrees to give the college what amounts to so 
 much money, in this case what amounts to one-fifth 
 the total annual income, in consideration of its, in 
 
174 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 turn, maintaining instruction in military tactics and 
 discipline. If tlie question be left to the students 
 whether they shall or shall not receive instruction, they 
 probably will decide they should not, in which case, as 
 I look at it the only duty left to me to perform would 
 be to promptly inform the War Department of the 
 decision and await further orders. Failing to comply 
 with your share of the compact would entail, in my 
 opinion, forfeiture of the Government bounty." 
 
 " How is that, Professor Beerbohm ? " asked the Presi 
 dent abruptly. 
 
 A tall, bearded, spectacled man found his feet and 
 his tongue at the same instant. He looked straight at 
 Fane, not at the Chair, and he spoke with austerity and 
 decision. 
 
 " If this question is new here," said he, " it is not so 
 at the University of Fredonia, as I happen to know. 
 Three years ago the officer sent to us there started in 
 with the same proposition, but had to drop it. Drills 
 were unpopular and obstructive, and have been dis 
 pensed with entirely ! " 
 
 Then the Professor sat down, and the silence was 
 intense. , 
 
 Fane presently arose. " May I ask," said he address 
 ing the Chair, " whether the drills were dispensed with 
 by War Department or University authority ? " 
 
 " I don t know anything about that," answered the 
 President, " but Professor Beerbohm knows whereof he 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 175 
 
 speaks. What has been decided there may well apply to 
 us here." 
 
 Fane slid a hand into the breast pocket of his blouse 
 and drew forth a small memorandum book. 
 
 " The information given by Professor Beerbohm," said 
 he slowly, " is certainly valuable, though possibly not in 
 the way intended. The professor cannot be mistaken ? " 
 he asked, this time addressing that gentleman. " The 
 drills were entirely dispensed with? " 
 
 " Entirely, and nearly two years ago." 
 
 " And the income from the sale of public lands that 
 also was dispensed with ? " 
 
 " Not at all ! That was never contemplated." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Fane. " I fancy, however, that 
 we shall hear further as to that," and, resuming his seat 
 he began to write. He desired to record the exact words 
 of Professor Beerbohm while the matter was still fresh 
 in his mind, and Professer Beerbohm, noting it, flushed 
 uneasily. 
 
 " What I said," he began again, and without rising, 
 " was purely for the information of the members here 
 present. I have no desire to appear as an informant 
 against the University of Fredonia." 
 
 " What the gentleman said," responded Fane, rising 
 and addressing the Chair, " was plainly for the purpose 
 of influencing this body, impressing it with the idea 
 that this institution may dispense with military instruc 
 tion without violating an implied contract. If the gentle- 
 
176 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 man is right, then I am all wrong, and my mission 
 here is ended." 
 
 This was indeed a new and hitherto undreamed of 
 state of affairs. Fane s immediate predecessor as drill 
 instructor had been but a brief time in the army, had 
 much preferred the arts of peace, had gradually worked 
 into another department and finally into a different 
 sphere. Just as gradually as he had gone up in collegiate 
 circles the military department had gone down. " A 
 necessary evil," the President had called it the previous 
 year. Now, if Beerbohm were right it was not even a 
 necessary, it was an unmitigated, evil. If the Depart 
 ment were an evil, then were the students warranted in 
 their stand against it; then was Stetson a martyr, and 
 Fane a martinet. To press the question then and there 
 would have resulted in Fane s defeat, as Sharpe and 
 Lorimer saw, and just as the Professor of Elocution 
 arose to his feet and began with the customary " It seems 
 to me there is much yet to be said on both sides," the 
 President impatiently broke in: 
 
 " And it should be said only by those who know some 
 thing about it! Professor Beerbohm is confident of his 
 position: Mr. er Captain Fane is confident of his. 
 Until we can settle this question we cannot settle that of 
 Stetson. The entire matter is therefore laid over until 
 next meeting, and this is adjourned." It was the Presi 
 dent s way and will, and the Faculty long had bowed 
 to both. 
 
A CLASH IN CLASSICS 177 
 
 But Professor Beerbohm came to Fane at the foot of 
 the stairs: 
 
 " I hope you appreciate my position er Captain, and 
 that I am not to be quoted in this matter," said he, 
 "especially if any injury may be done Fredonia." 
 
 " You spoke publicly, Professor Beerbohm," was the 
 uncompromising reply. " I shall not give your name 
 unless called for, but your words go to Washington 
 to-night." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 MISCHIEF AFOOT 
 
 THERE was the mischief to pay on College Hill. 
 Ten days more immunity from either drill or 
 penalty had put young Stetson on a pinnacle. 
 Ten days had brought letters that put Beerbohm in a 
 plight. The drills at Fredonia had indeed been dis 
 pensed with, as was said, only such students as " volun 
 teered " being on the rolls of the retired army officer 
 there on duty, and these few " drilled " only when the 
 spirit moved them which was seldom. All on a sudden 
 an inspector appeared ,- put questions to the President and 
 the Professor of Military Science; took down their 
 answers, and went his way. The officer knew what it 
 meant, and told the President to look out for squalls. 
 This happened just about the time that a letter came 
 from Professor Beerbohm intimating that perhaps he 
 had been indiscreet, and that they had a young man at 
 Groveton " who seemed disposed to make trouble." 
 That was enough to stamp Beerbohm as the witless 
 betrayer, for these were days before the Government 
 started the system of regular inspection of its subsidized 
 colleges, and this episode was one of the reasons. There 
 came an indignant, injured letter from the head of Fre- 
 
MISCHIEF AFOOT 179 
 
 donia to his fellow head of Groveton. It was an ungen 
 erous thing in one great institution so to injure the busi 
 ness interests of another, and indeed the head of Grove- 
 ton was quite ready to take that view of it, and so tak 
 ing, sent for Mr. a Captain Fane and said that here 
 after when he had any criticism to make of the manage 
 ment of college affairs he preferred them to be made to 
 him, the President, and not to " outsiders." It was not 
 the proper thing for members of the Faculty of one 
 institution to be interfering in the affairs of another, and 
 he deprecated any such action as Mr. Fane had taken in 
 this matter. Fane replied with rising temper, but with 
 respectful tone and manner, that Professor Beerbohm 
 had spoken coram publico, had pointed to Fredonia s 
 immunity from consequences as warrant for like disre 
 gard at Groveton, and it was his duty, in his opinion, to 
 lose n6 time in warning both the Government and Grove- 
 ton. He had warned the Government. He now warned 
 Groveton. 
 
 It fairly staggered the President. He had had to deal, 
 hitherto, only with men bound solely to him and the 
 college. Here was a youth who could indeed " perceive 
 a divided duty." Then more letters came from Fre- 
 donia, upbraiding Beerbohm, and that sorely badgered 
 scientist conceived it just to say that Captain Fane had 
 taken advantage of " words spoken in debate," of " a 
 privileged communication," in fact, something not 
 intended to go outside that room, yet expected to have 
 
180 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 overwhelming effect within. But the first time Beer- 
 bohm opened his guns in this wise in presence of the 
 officer in question, Fane fired up and sent so sharp a 
 reply that more than ever did the President and a certain 
 few of his followers look upon the soldier as " a disturb 
 ing element," and so refer to him. 
 
 But there were other members, and not a minority 
 now, whose eyes were opening to the facts at issue, and 
 who clearly saw whither they had been drifting. " This 
 matter," said they, " has never before been shown us in 
 the proper light. Now if you can only make it com 
 prehensible to the Trustees " 
 
 But there was the rub ! West had gone far eastward. 
 Of the two local members of the Executive Committee 
 one was deep in politics, the other in plans for higher 
 education. The former could see things only as they 
 affected his prospects for office; the other, a most ami 
 able divine, only through the spectacles of the President 
 They hailed from the same New England town and 
 college. 
 
 But even these gentlemen heard with alarm of the 
 result at Fredonia, whose President wrote that, thanks 
 to the " impertiment interference " of this new drill- 
 master at Groveton, they had been notified that unless 
 the conditions of the act were in future faithfully 
 observed, steps would be taken to recover the income 
 derived from government lands. It would seem, there 
 fore, that among the Dons of both sister institutions 
 
MISCHIEF AFOOT 181 
 
 some intemperate talk and wrath had been aroused, not, 
 of course, at the expense of the Trustees and officials, 
 who, knowing the law, had sought its benefits and slighted 
 its obligations; not at the expense of those who would 
 take without paying, but wholly at the expense of the 
 " drill master " referred to and the self-snared, unwilling, 
 unhappy witness who had brought Fredonia to book. 
 One of the President s pet topics when sermonizing had 
 been the relaxation of public morals consequent upon the 
 great war, " the host of discharged soldiery, with all 
 the vices of the camp, turned loose upon peace-loving, 
 law-abiding, God-fearing communities," and now, lo! 
 here was a soldier daring to preach to him and to others, 
 law-abiding and God-fearing, as to the meaning of a 
 moral obligation. The President felt sorely aggrieved, 
 and said so, wherein he showed himself, after all, much 
 more human than divine. How many another preacher 
 has there lived with volumes of rebuke for other peo 
 ple s sins and never a thought of his own! How many 
 a friend is gifted with phenomenal insight into our short 
 comings, but has no eyes for his, or her, individual 
 iniquities! And now Fredonia and Groveton, like many 
 another caught in the act, really suffered far less from 
 the contemplation of their sins of omission than from 
 chagrin at being found out. Beerbohm and Fane, antag 
 onistic from the start, had come at least to one point in 
 common. Each was the object of hearty condemnation 
 from " others in authority." 
 
182 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 It was at this stage of the proceedings that Fane 
 became conscious of a new element of mischief. In 
 some way the matter had got into the local press. Pro 
 vincial editors could not well be expected to know too 
 much of Federal law and of acts of Congress passed 
 and forgotten in the earlier days of the civil war. It was 
 enough for them that something out of the common run 
 of collegiate rows had settled on Groveton, and there 
 was never a time when their reporters could not find 
 voluble tale bearers. Indeed, it is more than probable 
 that at this time tongues and pens were both inspired, 
 for Fane was " catching it " right and left, and poor Mrs. 
 Fane was frantic. She had known nothing heretofore 
 of any life save that guarded with every show of 
 respect, surrounded by the very atmosphere of defer 
 ence and courtesy. Fort Sheridan, that journalistic 
 stamping ground and School for Scandal, had not then 
 been projected, and the poor lady had never dreamed of 
 the flights to which newspaper imaginings could soar. 
 It was nothing new to Fane. He had been on duty at 
 West Point when the first Ethiopan appointees appeared 
 there, and certain New York journals thought they had 
 found opportunity to wreck the fair fame of the national 
 school. He had served in the West, and been favored 
 with many a " marked copy " expressive of editorial 
 views on the atrocities of our troops in Indian campaign 
 when the atrocities were all on the other side. He had 
 been where orders were orders, and he di4 as orders 
 
MISCHIEF AFOOT 183 
 
 demanded, no matter what the papers might say. But 
 now, between what was hinted in collegiate cloisters and 
 hatched in the sanctums, a condition indeed serious came 
 to confront him. 
 
 He had been conscious, of course, for weeks, of the 
 impudence of street loafers and small boys the grins 
 and nudgings that greeted his coming the shouted imi 
 tation words of command, the jeers and cat-calls that 
 followed his goings. It was humiliating and vexatious, 
 Heaven knows, but he was helpless. With only one 
 arm to fight with, he could not resent; with no law to 
 protect him, he could not even protest. It is one of the 
 penalties of serving our people as a soldier that he who 
 wears the livery must bear their abuse. It is only of late 
 the populace has begun to show honor to the flag. It is 
 too soon, perhaps, to say when they will show respect 
 for the uniform. Thus far, as a rule, that uniform is 
 honored only when it comes in mass and with shotted 
 guns. The one policeman of the suburb, to whom Fane 
 quietly referred the matter, said he d " run em in " if 
 caught in the act, but added : " Twould do no good. 
 Them fellers owns us, and so long as they don t stone us 
 they can say what they like," which proved to be prac 
 tically true, as Fane soon found. 
 
 Ten days of immunity from drill or penalty, as has 
 been said, had put young Stetson on a pinnacle. Twenty 
 days had now gone by without bringing the feverish sore 
 to a head, for the President had gone to speak on the 
 
.184 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Ethics of Education at a great Western university, and 
 had left directions that the case of Stetson should not be 
 called until his return. Faculty meeting, therefore, had 
 been destitute of its usual exhilaration. The student in 
 question had been boasting on the campus, and his father 
 on the street corners, that, so far from being punished, 
 he was being upheld by the President. It stimulated the 
 few recalcitrants. It staggered a bit the growing faith of 
 the battalion in their instructor. Stetson passed him at 
 first with no other greeting than an impudent leer, but, 
 emboldened by whiskey, the gathering dusk and a gang 
 at his back, he presently went still further. 
 
 It was a gusty November evening. Fane was coming 
 briskly down the lakeside walk after a sharp and exhila 
 rating drill. It was his duty to see the last man out of 
 the gymnasium, and to lock the door. The students who 
 went his way toward town were therefore always well 
 ahead, and he came on alone. Students traveled in squads 
 of six or eight, as a rule, and in supporting distance, for 
 it was a favorite pastime of a lot of young ruffians from the 
 shops and saloons of a near-by suburb to cruise about the 
 corners at nightfall in hopes of waylaying some stray 
 collegian; the street blackguard, like that other savage, 
 the Apache, fighting best when ten to one. To such as 
 these Fane in his cavalry uniform and crippled condition 
 offered a tempting mark, but an indefinite sense of uncer 
 tainty as to the young regular s possibilities as a pistol 
 shot, in case that arm were carried as was the obviously 
 
MISCHIEF AFOOT 185 
 
 crippled one, had restricted their affronts to those de 
 scribed. Fane had, however, abandoned that route and 
 taken the longer and more solitary way along the lake. 
 It led him first through a dense grove on the college 
 grounds, thence down to the shore and under the rocky 
 cliffs where he had met Ethel Hoyt, and so, by many 
 turnings, to the scattered homesteads in the midst of 
 which he had found temporary lodgment for himself and 
 the mother and sister dependent upon him. Just as the 
 almost wintry gloaming was settling down upon the 
 peaceful scene here, as he rounded a rocky point and 
 came within view of " the white walls of his home," he 
 became aware of half a dozen young fellows, some of the 
 same gang he had hitherto encountered about the corners 
 of the avenue beyond, roosting on a low, flat-topped stone 
 wall beside the pathway, and tossing stones across it into 
 the plashing waters. 
 
 Feigning not to note his coming, though every face was 
 toward him as he turned the point, and he saw it and knew 
 that they were there for his benefit, they kept up the 
 rapid fusillade, and he had either to stop and wait for 
 them to desist, or take the chance of being hit. He chose 
 the latter, and went ahead, wherein, said the President, 
 later, he was entirely wrong: he should have politely 
 asked them to permit him to pass, and they undoubtedly 
 would have done it. Through the slanting fire he went 
 unscathed until opposite the fifth man, whose missile 
 glanced from his right shoulder-strap, just under his chin 
 
186 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and thence into the lake. That might have been an 
 accident: what followed was not. There was a snigger 
 ing laugh ; then, as he neither faltered nor turned, a more 
 aggressive move. He had caught sight of Stetson seated 
 at the end of the row, and a voice he instantly recognized 
 as Stetson s called mockingly after him : 
 
 " Hello, Cap ! How are you now ? " 
 
 It was a pound too much, and as the hot blood flashed to 
 the soldier s temples and he whirled about to face the 
 pot-valiant gang, a stone, better aimed and weighty, struck 
 him squarely between the eyes. Human nature could 
 stand no more. Spirit and temper had been sorely tried 
 for weeks. Though he reeled an instant from the shock 
 and through a million dancing stars he saw the treetops 
 turning red, his one good hand instinctively flew to the 
 guard of the light sabre at his side, and the long blade 
 leaped from the scabbard as he sprang at his taunting foe. 
 Quick to scent danger as to invite it, every sinner of their 
 number was already off the wall, and away. Only the 
 rearmost could the bleeding and half blinded soldier over 
 take, and him, howling blasphemy and protestation, Fane 
 battered over the legs with the back of his blade until the 
 fellow stumbled and fell on his face, t!ien with the flat 
 thrashed him over the buttocks until, scrambling and 
 cursing, the victim managed to get away, leaving the 
 victor to stanch his own wound and for the moment, at 
 least, to mourn his luck that the one brute he punished 
 was not the one who most deserved it Stetson himself. 
 
MISCHIEF AFOOT 18t 
 
 When that episode was duly aired before the President 
 on the officer s report of the student s action and language. 
 Fane s story was about as above ; that of Stetson and his 
 corroborating backers was to the effect that the officer 
 had taken offense at the student s simply asking how he 
 was, and because he had been accidentally hit with pebbles 
 they were pitching into the lake. The witnesses were five 
 to one against him, and the President called his attention 
 to that significant fact. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 " STAND TO YOUR GUNS ! " 
 
 THERE were three reasons why our some time 
 hero did not quit in deep chagrin, if not disgust. 
 One was that he knew that, in spite of an adverse 
 Fate and partially adverse Faculty, he was meeting with 
 marked success among the students. He hated to be 
 beaten. He knew he could win, and the doctrine of fight 
 to which he was born said Stand to your guns ! and make 
 them feel your mettle. A second reason was that it had 
 cost much to come away home from the Pacific, and much 
 more to bring the mother, sister, self and belongings from 
 the Eastern seaboard to the Western town. To move 
 again meant more money, and he hadn t a dollar to spare. 
 The third reason, briefly stated, was Ethel Hoyt. For 
 six days he had had no sight of, and for two weeks no 
 speech with, her. Jane had heard she was not well 
 had had disturbing news from relatives, and Jane was set 
 against intruding in any way. Miss Hoyt had not en 
 couraged Miss Fane s by no means too cordial advances, 
 and Jane went nowhere, she said, where she was not 
 heartily welcome. She spoke, perhaps, in a moment of 
 sisterly spleen and petulance, having one of those nerve- 
 racking torments best known as a schoolroom headache. 
 She had begun to tell herself that Ronald had come to 
 
 188 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 189 
 
 this place, where he was so utterly underrated and mis 
 understood, and where they were all so thoroughly un 
 happy, on account and in pursuit of that girl ; which was 
 not at all the case, as she could have learned for the ask 
 ing, but she would not ask. Womanlike, Jane would 
 rather cherish a poignant and jealous pang than yield a 
 point. She saw that her brother was chafing his heart 
 out over the situation losing sleep, flesh and peace of 
 mind, and she wanted to believe that it was all because of 
 Miss Hoyt, instead of mainly due to herself. Many a 
 fond-hearted sister has been just as fool-headed ! 
 
 But, exasperating as was the situation when the Presi 
 dent, after hearing young Stetson s side of the story and 
 that of his street-bred supporters, dismissed the affair as 
 " something Mr. Fane must expect in a community where 
 rum is master," there was really worse to come. What 
 the President meant to imply was that the saloon was 
 responsible for the occurrence, that he could not control 
 the saloon, and that the Trustees and the municipal au 
 thorities, and not he, should take cognizance of the matter. 
 What he succeeded in effecting was another victory for 
 the cad element, largely in the minority among the stu 
 dents but nevertheless there, and the decision speedily bore 
 its fruit. 
 
 On the one hand, the Stetson-led faction, less than 
 seven in number all told, was now encouraged to think 
 that " Prex " was their backer, and they planned further 
 mischief accordingly. On the other, it was represented to 
 
100 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Fane that, finding him intractable, the President had taken 
 this means of driving him out in disgust. Whatever the 
 motive, the deed had the very opposite result. Fane set 
 his teeth and swore he d stick it through and teach his 
 opponents to respect his department and teach them in 
 spite of themselves. His mother s lamentations gave him 
 much distress of mind. She took so much to heart the 
 slurs and innuendoes that frequently appeared in two of 
 the papers. She could not understand it that so very few 
 of the ladies, either of Town or Gown, had called. She 
 thought it scandalous that only two professors had shown 
 that attention to her son. Handsome Clare was not 
 worrying so much just now, she having found an ardent 
 admirer in the young rector of St. Paul s. It lifted her 
 at once from the contemplation of her own woes to the 
 suffering of a dozen other dear lambs of the fold, deeply 
 interested in the daily doings of that most attractive divine. 
 Jane, apparently absorbed in her new and trying duties, 
 was thinking of and for Ronald more than he knew, but 
 saying little because of a cloud that had come between 
 them. She did not wish to talk of Miss Hoyt. He, evi 
 dently, had too much interest in the subject. Six months 
 earlier she would have scorned the imputation of spying 
 on a girl in hopes of evidence in support of her sus 
 picions. For six days past she had been giving ear to 
 stories that Miss Hoyt was " interested in some gentle 
 man," and that gentleman was not the brother Jane so 
 deeply and jealously loved. 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 191 
 
 Other teachers dwelling in Clifton Hall had seen letters 
 that came for Miss Hoyt, addressed in sprawling mascu 
 line hand, and they were coming as often as twice a week. 
 Younger women students there resident and admirers of 
 Miss Hoyt s decided beauty, grace and style were for 
 ever chatting about her, and speculating as to the cause 
 of her coming to so ill-paid, ill-starred a lot as that of a 
 teacher. Previous letters for Miss Hoyt had been re 
 ceived; some in business-looking envelopes from a law 
 firm in the East, others addressed in feminine hand, a few, 
 in black-bordered envelopes, that bore the post-mark of 
 Eastern cities and pleasure resorts. It was late in October 
 that the frequent appearance of others still began to be 
 noticed. All mail for Clifton Hall came to the matron s 
 office and was there distributed. None of its inmates was 
 supposed to have a box of her own at the post-office. 
 There were reasons for this, and rather good ones. 
 
 But this was not all. Miss Fane walked over to the 
 Hall one evening to see a pupil who had been ill. It was 
 late when she went. It was after ten and closing 
 time when she left, and at 10:15, turning suddenly into 
 the dark and arborlike pathway a short cut from the 
 main avenue to the side street she came upon a couple 
 faintly discernible under a massive elm a young man 
 pleading; a young woman in tears. Neither seeing nor 
 hearing distinctly, Miss Fane hurried by, a strange flutter 
 at her heart. Something in the poise of the slender, 
 graceful figure so dimly visible, something in a mere turn 
 
192 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 of the head and the murmur of a word or two, told her 
 that the girl was Ethel Hoyt. 
 
 A rule of the Hall was that the main door should be 
 closed at ten, and that the door-keeper should furnish the 
 matron with the names of all admitted after that hour. 
 The list was placed on the matron s desk. Anyone having 
 business with the matron might casually glance at -it. 
 Miss Fane had no particular business with the matron 
 next day, the Hall was rather out of her way, but she 
 called again to see her pupil, who was up and out. She 
 called again upon the matron, who was in, and the list 
 lay before her on the desk. "Miss Hoyt, 10:25 p. m." 
 was one of the three entries. 
 
 The meeting of the Faculty was to occur on Friday 
 afternoon. The case of Stetson, postponed on one plea or 
 another, was then to be decided. The father had been out 
 of town for several days, and no one knew what might be 
 plotting until, on Friday morning, Fane came down to 
 his early breakfast and found a local paper underneath 
 his plate. Three or four students at table in the adjoining 
 room respectfully bade him good-morning and he had a 
 cheery word with them before taking his seat. The page 
 was so folded that uppermost lay, heavily marked, an 
 article that read as follows: 
 
 THE STUDENT VS. THE SWORD 
 
 It is understood that when the Faculty of the State College 
 assembles this afternoon formal action will be taken on the 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 193 
 
 case of the army lieutenant who made the vicious assault upon 
 certain students and inoffensive citizens during the week gone 
 by. While, as hitherto stated, we think that the charge should 
 be assault with deadly weapon, and that it was a matter demand 
 ing the action of the Courts, it is characteristic of the mag 
 nanimity of the persons most concerned that they refuse to 
 prosecute an officer whose infirmities of temper may possibly 
 be aggravated by certain injuries from which he is said to be 
 suffering. It appears, however, that sympathy is somewhat 
 misplaced in the matter, as it is an open secret that this is 
 by no means the first time, both at college and on campaign, 
 that the conduct, or rather misconduct, of the officer in question 
 has been the subject of deserved criticism. We have it on indis 
 putable authority that this is the lieutenant whose incapacity, 
 if nothing worse, resulted in heavy loss to a detachment under 
 his command, and to a scathing rebuke from his superior officer. 
 Why were not these things told before? 
 
 Fane read ; rose slowly from his chair ; thrust the paper 
 into the open grate, and turned back to his waiting break 
 fast. Many eyes were upon him. He had reddened a 
 moment and then gone pale. With enforced calm and 
 simulated appetite he remained a while at the little table 
 reserved for him and his. Jane had not yet appeared. 
 Mrs. Fane and Clare never came until all other boarders 
 were gone. When, sword at his side, he presently left 
 the house, he found two students waiting for him at the 
 gate. 
 
 They saluted, and the spokesman said : 
 
 " Captain Fane, we wish to say to you that no member 
 of the battalion put that paper at your plate. We believe 
 
,194 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 a servant did it, and that she had no idea of the contents, 
 but that it was given to her for the purpose. Of course 
 we have seen it, and the men whom we ve met unite in 
 denouncing it. The whole thing is the work, probably, of 
 old Stetson." 
 
 " When did he return ? " asked Fane. He did not wish 
 to discuss the matter. He desired to be alone, but the 
 loyalty of these young fellows was not a thing to be 
 ignored. He thanked them, told them it was a matter 
 he would think of before acting, then led the way to the 
 gymnasium. A janitor, meeting them at the gateway to 
 the grounds, handed him a letter : 
 
 " It came with the President s mail, sir, a few 
 days ago, and he was away, so he didn t see it until 
 last night." 
 
 It was from Hazlett. Fane knew the hand at a glance 
 and tore open the envelope as he trudged up the hill. 
 Within was a little missive from his gentle friend and 
 nurse of the previous winter. How long ago it seemed ! 
 How much older he had grown, and sadder ! How much 
 he stood now in need of such friends as these and how 
 few were they! Yet the first words gave him comfort: 
 
 We are coming to Chicago, dear Fane. Price wrote that 
 his wife couldn t stand the climate, and asked to exchange. 
 Her Serene Highness said yes, which settled it even up to the 
 A. G. O. So behold us packing in preparation for the journey. 
 Now there is possibility of our meeting in the near future, and 
 it occurred to me that, before settling in winter quarters in 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 195 
 
 the Windy City, we might come, by way of, and Mrs. Kazlett 
 might bide a while at, Groveton. It is as you say. Send a night 
 message, for we should be leaving here Thursday next. 
 
 " And here it is Friday," thought Fane, " and they ve 
 been wondering over my silence." 
 
 I suppose you hear occasionally from Turner and Truscott, 
 and so have all the regimental news. Our fellows are all out 
 of Arizona by this time, and yours will be following in another 
 year. Mrs. Stannard s last letter to my better half was full 
 of interest, but we ll talk over all that when we meet. Just 
 what influence our former post commander may possess is 
 more than I can say. It saved him an official lashing last 
 spring, and now he has six months leave. I presume he will 
 appear in Chicago, perhaps is there already, in which case I 
 hope he may go his way before I get there. Now, forgive me, 
 Fane, if I intrude advice where none is asked, but, knowing 
 how just was your wrath against him, knowing, too, just how 
 deep, I hope you will not meet him. Your good name and 
 fame, in spite of him, are established, known of all men. 
 
 " How little he knows," thought Fane bitterly. 
 
 He stands rebuked in like measure. Therefore, say I, don t 
 seek him, don t see him. In an affair with him of any kind you 
 would have nothing to gain and everything, perhaps, to lose. We 
 have learned to love you and to have high hopes of your future 
 in the profession you adorn, so do nothing to jeopard your 
 prospects. 
 
 I am wondering if you have heard about Hayden, whom you 
 dared so much to save. I wonder if he was worth half the 
 
196 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 risk. I had a letter from Turner two days ago. The men, he 
 says, " still talk of Fane," but don t know what to think of 
 Hayden. He had been sent down to the Colorado on escort 
 duty last month ; got into a row with a man in " K " Troop ; 
 was placed under guard; broke out, escaped, and has been 
 declared a deserter. They say he took the mail stage to the 
 coast. Where could he have got the money? Frankly, I never 
 thought much of that young fellow, though I remember that 
 the major seemed to favor him. 
 Mrs. Hazlett sends the enclosed, so I presume she conveys 
 
 her own messages. 
 
 Yours as ever, HAZLETT. 
 
 So Major Piggott was East on leave, and Hayden a 
 deserter. How odd to read of them and their doings! 
 A few months back Fane could hardly drive the former 
 out of his thoughts. For the last few weeks he had hardly 
 thought of him at all, so engrossing had become his cares 
 and perplexities at college. He was standing alone now, 
 reading his letter under the shade of the elms at the edge 
 of the green campus. The students had gone on to the 
 gymnasium; others were following; all eyeing him curi 
 ously, many of them sympathetically, as they passed, for 
 all had seen or heard of that stinging and misleading 
 article. Mechanically he returned their salutes, but turned 
 farther away into the grove before opening the little 
 enclosure. It was only a wee note, but it stirred him 
 strangely, even at a time when he was athrill with nervous 
 wrath over the new wrong dealt him. For a moment 
 this, too, was forgotten as he read ; 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 197 
 
 DEAR FRIEND ALWAYS : 
 
 We have been seeing much of Mr. Furlong who was with you 
 at the Point two summers ago, and he has had much to tell 
 us of a girl in whom I feel more interest than you express. 
 He says that it is generally believed that her father s business 
 misfortunes were mainly due to a Mr. Betts; that Mr. Betts 
 had pursued her with his attentions in spite of her repugnance, 
 and that her quitting her father s roof such roof as was left 
 to them after the crash was practically to rid herself of Betts 
 and his importunities. He says further that she is teaching 
 French at some Western college, and he thinks it the very one 
 to which you were lately ordered. I can hardly believe it, 
 because you surely would tell me, would you not? Yet you 
 have written no line since the week you went on duty. I do 
 hope well, you know what I hoped, and said, when we parted 
 at Sandy, and now I m looking forward to be told of her, per 
 haps to seeing her at Groveton. Shall I not? 
 
 Yours, E. E. H. 
 
 What was there to tell her? What opportunity would 
 there now be, even had he anything but sorrow to speak 
 of! The ill fortune that had seemed to hound his every 
 move of late pursued him even in this. It was now too 
 late to wire. They would have started, and he knew not 
 by which route or train. They would hardly come by way 
 of Groveton now, in view of his silence, and he longed for 
 them, longed for Hazlett s stanch friendship and sup 
 port for her sweet, womanly sympathy. The big bell 
 boomed the hour ; the stirring peal of the bugle followed 
 at the gymnasium ; he heard the " Here ! " " Here ! " of 
 
198 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the young voices and the thud of the gun butts on the floor 
 as the sergeants called their rolls. One or two belated 
 lads came panting up the slope, red-faced and worried, 
 " coming down to a walk " at sight of him, saluting and 
 then hastening on, but he called them to him. Sorrow 
 and vexation had only served to make him sympathetic. 
 " We ll go in together," he said, half smiling. " Car off 
 the track?" 
 
 They shook their heads. "My fault, sir, I m fraid," 
 said the foremost. " I thought we had more time, 
 and " he glanced down at the left hand. The knuckle 
 was bleeding. " We turned back a minute." 
 
 " Some of that street gang again ? " queried Fane. 
 
 Three of em, sir, at the second corner. I don t care 
 to say what they said, but I laid one of em out." 
 
 " I think I know," said Fane grimly. " Don t fight my 
 battles, gentlemen. I ll settle those presently," then 
 turned on toward the gymnasium. 
 
 At the doorway Fane encountered a heavy body loung 
 ing out. It was Stetson, furious, followed by a student 
 officer, menacing. Something had evidently happened 
 to ruffle the former, for he wheeled, shook his fist at his 
 pursuer, and, never seeming to see others, burst out with 
 this tirade : 
 
 And that ain t half we ve got to say of that 
 
 shoulder-strapped son-of-a " Gulp! for he got 
 
 no further. He was seized from behind, whirled about 
 and brought face to face with Fane. For a moment no 
 
"STAND TO YOUR GUNS!" 199 
 
 one spoke. Alone now in his abuse, abashed and scared, 
 the young ruffian checked in the midst of his raging 
 harangue. This time, at least, it was not the officer s 
 hand that was laid upon him, but the officer was the first 
 to speak, and he spoke slowly, with a snap to every word, 
 with a face that was white to the very lips. 
 
 " You have heard this language, gentlemen/ he said, 
 quite calmly, " and you know to what and to whom he 
 refers. Either he quits, or I quit, this college before an 
 other day." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 
 
 FACULTY meeting was over, and the fate of Stet 
 son as a student was settled. It had been long and 
 hot and trying. The talk was mainly with the 
 President, with the usual talkers of the array, and with 
 Beerbohm especially, but, after the testimony of the four 
 student witnesses to the morning s affair, the vote was 
 even overwhelmingly with Fane. Stetson was " removed 
 from the rolls " and declared no longer a member of the 
 college. " You may expect trouble, and lots of it, as the 
 result of this action," said the President, and he was 
 prophetic, though he never dreamed of the nature of the 
 consequences to come. He went hurriedly away from 
 the meeting without a word to Fane. 
 
 Three elders of the Faculty walked homeward with the 
 young officer in the gathering dusk. He was silent, tired, 
 worn. He had won, but he felt no sense of exultation. 
 The battle was only just begun. They left him, and Jane, 
 with anxious eyes, met him at the gate. He passed his 
 arm around her waist and drew her to his side as they 
 turned into the house. " Mamma," said she, " has a head 
 ache and is lying down. Clare is out walking with her 
 Honeyman." Jane adored Thackeray and couldn t abide 
 the rector. " Now tell me how it went." 
 
 200 
 
STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 201 
 
 " It went hard/ he said, "but, it went! The fellow- 
 is dismissed, but the President says his people will appeal 
 to the Trustees, who are mainly politicians, who will 
 undo what we have done and leave us worse off than we 
 were. I fancy he knows them. Now, if Colonel West 
 were only here ! " 
 
 If Colonel West were only here ! Jane was reddening 
 faintly at the thought. If Colonel West were only here 
 and knew all that had transpired, knew of her going 
 again to the matron and spying yes, spying on Miss 
 Hoyt, what would Colonel West be apt to think what 
 ever he might not say ! Conscience was troubling Jane 
 conscience and other matters. The brother was not the 
 only one of the dear name they bore to have his college 
 troubles. That spiteful paper had been seen by bright 
 and eager eyes at the Hall, and there had been more than 
 one spiteful little scratch inflicted during the day, spiteful 
 in spite of the simulated sympathy. But what would 
 Roland think and say and do if he knew she had gone to 
 the matron that second time and peered over the matron s 
 shoulder at the matron s list. Jane had very virtuous 
 intentions as regarded Ethel Hoyt and meant not to mis 
 judge her in any way, but, the girl who won her Bayard 
 brother, her hero, her medal-of-honor soldier, must be a 
 paragon in petticoats, and Jane had something of Punch s 
 famous Scotchwoman s faith in the frailty of all woman 
 kind except herself. 
 
 She knew he wished to be alone, but she decided it were 
 
202 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 best he should open his heart and to her. " Come, let 
 us walk it off, Ronald," she said. " We will trot down 
 to the post before tea. It will do you good, and I 
 need it." 
 
 There was a dispatch on the mantelshelf in Mrs. 
 Jamieson s little parlor. She ran and fetched it, and her 
 hat, and watched him narrowly as he opened and read. 
 
 " My luck," he said wearily, as he crumpled the paper. 
 " The Hazletts were coming this way. They ve gone 
 straight on to Chicago as no answer came to their letter, 
 so I ll wire from town and explain." 
 
 Together they started. The late November evening was 
 chill; the lanes were dark; the street lamps, just being 
 lighted, threw but a feeble gleam across the broader ave 
 nue, and a wind from nowhere in particular was sighing 
 through the branches overhead and sifting the brown 
 leaves down across their pathway. It was a Friday even 
 ing, too; ill-omened day in many a history and destined 
 so to be in theirs. They walked for a while swiftly, but in 
 silence. He said he would rather not talk just now. They 
 passed at intervals little knots of students and towns 
 people hurrying supperwards, silent almost as were they 
 themselves. They met Clare and her clerical cavalier, 
 who impressively lifted his hat and trusted their spirits 
 were brighter than the day, to which neither could make 
 fitting response. They went on presently, after a per 
 functory word. " I ve asked Mr. Tremaine to tea with 
 us," Clare called over her shoulder, " so don t be late." 
 
STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 203 
 
 " This evening of all others," moaned Jane, as she took 
 her brother s arm and snuggled to his side ; then, as they 
 encountered other couples " co-eds " out for a " spoon " 
 and a stroll suddenly dropped it and ran round behind 
 him to the other side. " How thoughtless of me," she 
 added. " I should be here to keep people from brushing 
 against you," and lightly she laid her hand upon the 
 injured limb, still supported in its fastened sleeve. It 
 had so happened that once or twice he had been jostled, 
 and the instant pang that followed made him sick and 
 faint. They passed a few members of the Faculty, some 
 going townward for exercise, some merely crossing their 
 path. Professor Beerbohm, moving slowly, in earnest 
 talk with a stranger, did not see them. Something in the 
 walk and carriage of that stranger was strangely familiar 
 to Fane, but the nearest lamp post was forty yards away, 
 the light was dim, and the two men turned into a cross 
 street leading to the President s almost as brother and 
 sister overtook them. The stranger was then gesticulat 
 ing, but the wind and the swirling, flitting leaves drowned 
 all sound of his voice. Yet Fane shortened step and 
 looked after them down the cross street, and Jane asked 
 why. He didn t know. He thought it looked like some 
 body he knew. 
 
 " Stetson ? " she asked instantly. 
 
 " Stetson," he answered slowly. " Stetson, the elder ; 
 but what should Professor Beerbohm be doing with 
 Stetson?" 
 
204 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 They found nothing at the post. They went on to the 
 Western Union office, where he wrote a message to Haz- 
 lett, Palmer House, Chicago ; and, as they came forth, the 
 clock in the city hall struck six. The streets were rather 
 dull for that usually lively hour. Few people at the mo 
 ment were abroad. Many of those they passed gazed 
 curiously at them, but there was nothing new in that. 
 The uniform seemed always to attract attention, and this 
 evening, contrary to his usual custom, Fane had not 
 changed it for civilian dress before coming into town. 
 They passed the brilliantly lighted counting room of the 
 Evening Star, and newsboys were running out with fresh 
 supplies, their voices shrilling on the gusty air. They 
 passed another brightly lighted portal, as they turned 
 again into College Avenue, a popular resort and bar 
 whose swinging doors parted violently at the instant, and 
 three or four loud-voiced citizens burst forth. Promi 
 nent among them, loudest in voice, dress and manner, 
 flushed in face and brandishing a crushed copy of the 
 paper in his fist, was Stetson Stetson, the senior, whom 
 they believed they had seen half a mile up the avenue not 
 half an hour agone. It was possible, of course, for him 
 to have followed closely after them and got there before 
 now, but they remembered hearing the same voices when, 
 ten minutes earlier, they walked briskly by the same por 
 tals. Stetson gave no sign of being drunk when he 
 walked with Beerbohm. He gave many a sign of it as he 
 lurched forth now. He was shouting and they heard: 
 
STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 205 
 
 " I stand by what my boy called him, by God ! I say 
 
 he s a , white-livered sneak and coward, an 
 
 I ll hound him for this till he " But here some one of 
 
 the party had sense enough to clap a broad palm over the 
 gaping mouth and to point with the other hand to the pair 
 moving swiftly by, the girl hanging tight to the young 
 officer s sleeve. " Shut up, you fool ! " they heard some 
 one mutter, the words audible over the sound of shuffling 
 feet. Fane would have turned again, but his sister clung 
 to him and pleaded. So, silently they went on. 
 
 " We ll be late as it is," she murmured presently, still 
 snuggling to his side. " We ought to hurry." But hurry 
 homeward he would not. The idea of sitting at tea now, 
 with the buzz of cheery student talk from the adjoining 
 room, the presence of the man of peace and Godliness, 
 when his soul was filled with rage for battle, was simply 
 unbearable. She saw it, and led him on and on, up the 
 avenue to the very foot of the stubborn hill, and he was 
 for breasting that, but she glanced at the brilliant lights 
 at Clifton Hall, and turned him westward into the grove, 
 and so on over to the plashing lake and round by Cedar 
 Point, and finally, back by the winding pathway through 
 the trees, toward the avenue again, where the gas lamps 
 gleamed mistily and threw a feeble glow at intervals upon 
 the broad walk, and there, just as they stepped forth upon 
 the planking, which creaked and grumbled under their 
 springy tread, just within the fringing line of elms be 
 yond the next lamp post and at the outer edge of the little 
 
206 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 circle of light, there stood two shadowy forms, those of 
 a man and a woman. As the soldier came within the 
 circle the flame of the jet shone full on the gold-crossed 
 sabres and the cord of the natty kepi, and glistened on 
 button and shoulder-strap. Partially, too, it blinded the 
 eyes beneath that stiff leather visor, so that only faintly 
 could they follow what instantly happened. 
 
 All in that instant the shadowy head of the man was 
 uplifted, then with sudden rush and scurry the form 
 darted from sight among the trees. Another instant and 
 brother and sister had passed the lamp post and were 
 within plain view of the white, startled, yet lovely face 
 that turned in distress and terror upon them the face 
 of Ethel Hoyt. 
 
 Fane s hand went up to his cap. Impatiently he shook 
 off the restraining touch : impulsively he stepped forward, 
 never heeding, never hearing, possibly, his sister s half 
 imploring murmur, " Oh, Ronald ! Don t don t speak ! 
 Come with me ! " He had but one thought, one idea 
 Stetson s mad threat had been put into execution. Stet 
 son, or someone for Stetson, had dared to accost, to insult 
 her, and seeing him coming had suddenly fled. " What 
 was it? Who was it, Miss Ethel? " he cried, as he sprang 
 to her side. " Which way did he go ? Tell me, quick ! " 
 and his eyes blazed furiously as he glared about him. 
 But her answer confused, confounded, amazed him. 
 
 "Oh, no! No! It isn t it wasn t Indeed he 
 meant he did no harm! Oh, pray, don t think of it. 
 
STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 207. 
 
 Good-night, Mr. Fane Miss Fane." And before he 
 could regain his scattered senses she was hurrying far up 
 the walk toward the lights of the Hall. Fane would have 
 turned and followed, but his sister, held fast. " Come 
 with me," she pleaded, " and I ll I ll have to tell you ! " 
 
 And going with her, he listened, stunned and silent, to 
 the sister s story. It was no uncouth ruffian, then. It was 
 some unknown admirer, some unsuspected lover. And 
 they had met at later hours ! They had met before ! And 
 he and she, or both, were ashamed, else why should the 
 man take to his heels ? 
 
 Roland Fane did not go to tea that evening, as was well 
 remembered with the following day. Jane herself was 
 very late, and explained that Ronald had some business to 
 attend to. Tremaine tore himself away for vestry meet 
 ing at eight, and about nine Ronald came in, went to his 
 mother s room, and presently to his own, whither Jane had 
 smuggled a tempting little luncheon for him, and whither 
 she, too, followed, saying, " I ll have some tea for you in 
 two minutes." She found him looking curiously at a 
 letter that lay conspicuously on his desk. " That was 
 brought to the house by a messenger about eight," she 
 said. " Is it anything of importance ? " 
 
 He had not yet read. He was dazed, sore hurt and 
 troubled, and she had done it. She, the sister who so 
 devotedly loved him, had taught him distrust, even dis 
 honor, of the girl who must have held foremost place in 
 his heart, and how could her Ronald have given such a 
 
208 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 love to one unworthy ! Conscience was smiting her now. 
 Like many another woman, she had been all impulse to 
 make him see with her eyes the woman he loved, until at 
 last he saw. Then, appalled at the result, she began to 
 conjure up explanation extenuation she would not 
 heed before; to look for some way some reason to 
 undo what she had done. Self-tormented, she fled from 
 his now doubly sorrowing face. Even the light of battle- 
 longing had gone from it. There was nothing left but 
 suffering. She needed to collect her thoughts and was 
 almost glad to find the kitchen fire so low it took her long 
 ten minutes to brew the tea she was to have had ready 
 in two. 
 
 His room was dark and he was gone when once again 
 she entered, struck a match and lit the gas. The luncheon 
 stood there on the table, still untouched. Vaguely 
 troubled, she sat down the tea things and in doing so dis 
 placed a half-folded half sheet that fell to the floor. . It 
 lay open as she stooped and the words were few, but plain 
 and significant : 
 
 Look out for your guns to-night. If you don t believe, come 
 through the west grove at ten o clock and see for yourself. 
 
 (Signed) LOYAL. 
 
 " Look out for the guns ! " she repeated. That might 
 mean either the rifles in the gun racks within, or the two 
 field pieces on the bluff without, the gymnasium. Tradi 
 tion had it that once before these had been dumped into 
 
STRANGE SHADOWS BY NIGHT 209 
 
 the lake. " Come through the west grove." Naturally, 
 if the object was to surprise the malefactors at their work 
 and catch them red-handed. Naturally, for on the chance 
 of interruption they would have pickets on the main trav 
 eled paths, but would hardly expect anyone from that 
 other direction of a dark night. Evidently Ronald had 
 gone at once, that was to be expected gone alone, prob 
 ably, for whom had he to summon to his aid ? Hurriedly 
 she returned to her own room, which by day, at least, com 
 manded a better view ; raised the window ; threw open the 
 shutters, and then, kneeling, looked out upon the night. 
 The scud was driving across the sky. The waning moon 
 was still low in the east and obscured by cloud. Only 
 three or four stars were struggling for a peep through 
 the driving veil. The wind was moaning low among the 
 shrubbery and tossing unseen branches overhead. In one 
 continuous plaint and plash the long waves rolled aslant 
 upon the pebbly shore. Far across the troubled waters a 
 locomotive headlight rounded a rocky point and threw its 
 brilliant beam athwart the white-capped surface. It was 
 the night express of the Central, inward bound. Then it 
 must be later than she thought. Even in the parlor below, 
 where often the students kept the piano jangling by the 
 hour, there was silence and desolation. Everybody was 
 away now at this moment when the brave-hearted, army- 
 bred girl seemed most to need support and sympathy. 
 The very night wind, blowing from the sturdy cedars at 
 the Point, seemed to whisper of foreboding, of impending 
 
210 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 danger, and Jane could stand it no longer. " God guard 
 my boy ! " she almost wailed, wringing her supple hands. 
 Then suddenly she sprang to her feet. 
 
 Borne on the rising, moaning gale ; borne from the very 
 heart of the westward grove beyond the gymnasium, there 
 came to her ears, sharp and spiteful, the sound of a single 
 shot. That was all. That was more than enough. Again 
 she hurried down to Ronald s room, to the pine wardrobe 
 against the northward wall, and threw it open. The belt 
 that always hung on the rearmost peg, the belt that bore 
 his bolstered pistol, hung there still. He at least had gone 
 unarmed. The soldier had observed the civil law, pos 
 sibly to his own peril, for peril there certainly was. 
 
 And then, slow and solemn, booming on the night, the 
 big bell in the central tower up the hill began the stroke 
 of ten. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE SHOT FROM THE CEDARS 
 
 I DON T know anything about that," the President 
 was saying an hour later, a very exciting hour as it 
 chanced to be, and the President was both disturbed 
 and vexed. " A pistol is not a proper part of a teacher s 
 equipment, and no man is warranted in using one except, 
 possibly, in defense of his life " 
 
 " And must he wait till he s dead to find out whether 
 his life s in danger?" drawled the President s other bete 
 noir, the Professor of Electrics. " If I had been in the 
 captain s place I think I would have shot sooner." 
 
 " You couldn t have shot at all," said the President 
 scathingly. " You don t carry a pistol, don t know how 
 to use one. He does, it seems, and he shouldn t." 
 
 " No. I admit that according to academic tradition 
 and the laws of the land he should have suffered himself 
 to be pounded into pulp, a one-armed man, alone and 
 helpless, but I m bound to say, Mr. President, that you 
 seem infinitely more concerned about the possible shoot 
 ing of a student than the actual and brutal and precon 
 certed assault upon one of the Faculty." 
 
 Four of the six men present gasped audibly at the 
 effrontery of the electrical department Never before the 
 
 211 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 coming of Fane, " the disturbing element," into the 
 charmed circle of college life, had such a thing been heard 
 of among the Faculty. Since that coming not only Fane 
 but certain followers had more than once measured lances 
 with the President, " Electrics " among them ; but never 
 before had " Electrics " said his say with such shocking 
 force and abruptness. The night air that had been so 
 chill and depressing seemed now surcharged with surplus 
 voltage. The President stood glaring at his former sub 
 ordinate, his mouth wide open as his eyes. 
 
 " You speak strongly," said he at length. 
 
 " I feel strongly," said Sharpe in reply. " I was one of 
 the first to reach the spot. I heard that shot from the 
 laboratory heard the rush through the grove. Then 
 there were shrieks for help. I saw the watchman s lan 
 tern go diving among the trees, and I got there as quick 
 as I could. My father, Mr. President, came home in 65 
 wearing that uniform, with his arm in a sling. I had 
 learned to honor it, and here I saw it covered with blood 
 and dirt and a crippled soldier beaten senseless." 
 
 The beating wasn t so one-sided," responded the Presi 
 dent, feeling that Sharpe was gaining ground. " Young 
 Stetson s brought home with a broken nose that we ll 
 have to pay for. Your helpless victim seems to have 
 been a hard hitter probably it was his pistol butt that 
 did it." 
 
 " I wish I could think so," was the uncompromising 
 answer. " Of all the cowardly, blackguardly things I 
 
THE SHOT FROM THE CEDARS 213 
 
 ever heard of, this is about the worst. His sister showed 
 me the letter by which they lured him, telling him to look 
 out for his guns. Dr. Raynor says they must have 
 stamped on his face when they had him down, and the 
 wound in the shoulder, of course, is reopened. The doc 
 tor was working at that when I came away. It s my be 
 lief those brutes beat him down from behind his cap 
 shows it probably knocked him senseless." 
 
 " Senseless, and yet able to shoot and scream for help ! " 
 interjected the President satirically. 
 
 " I didn t say that," said Sharpe, reddening. " There 
 were screams for help, but not his." 
 
 " Whose, then ? " demanded the gaunt scholar suspi 
 ciously, " You spoke of him as alone helpless. Did 
 his assailants scream for help ? " 
 
 " I said he was alone when attacked. He was not alone 
 when I got there." 
 
 " Who were there ? " was the sharp demand. 
 
 " Several people," answered Sharpe slowly. " Dug- 
 gan, the watchman, Post and Linkman from the observa 
 tory, and several others, strangers or students, I don t 
 know which. I was busy with him." 
 
 " But none of those you name could have been there to 
 scream. You said shriek, at first. Did you see no one 
 else? Professor Sharpe, I will ask you a direct question 
 that you may answer or not as you see fit. Was Miss 
 Hoyt there?" 
 
 The silence in the old library for a second or two was 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 broken only by the ticking of the big Dutch clock. Then 
 Sharpe replied : 
 
 " Miss Hoyt was there." 
 
 " And can you reasonably account for Miss Hoyt s 
 being in the west grove at that hour of the night ? " 
 
 " I cannot. It is not my business. I do not permit 
 myself, however, to doubt that she can. It was barely 
 ten. Clifton Hall is close at hand. She is not confined 
 to it that I know of." 
 
 But the President signified that the impromptu council 
 was ended. Sharpe wished to stay and speak further, 
 but the President would not so have it. He had other 
 matters to attend to at once. A new theory had pre 
 sented itself to his mind, based on rumors that had reached 
 his ears. From more sources than one had he heard of 
 Miss Hoyt s recent evening wanderings, and of that early 
 morning meeting, the occasion of Fane s first unlawful 
 " laying on of hands." He lost sight of other theories in 
 presence of this new and forceful one. He forgot what 
 Sharpe told him of the luring letter the threat as to the 
 guns. He sat thinking of stories of anonymous notes 
 that had been coming from mysterious sources. He was 
 contemplating with dismay the certainty that here was a 
 new scandal, a new sensation the Press would surely dis 
 cover, and again the college would become the butt of 
 every paper opposed politically to the powers in office. 
 It was pitiful. It was exasperating. Only yesterday, he 
 reasoned, they had most inopportunely dismissed young 
 
THE SHOT FROM THE CEDARS 215 
 
 Stetson and intensified the rage against them in Stetson, 
 senior s, breast. Stetson, who " steered " ward caucuses 
 and State conventions; Stetson, worse luck, who prac 
 tically owned the Evening Star; Stetson, whose hopeful 
 son was lying this moment at his father s house, with shat 
 tered nerve and nose ; Stetson, who had sworn vengeance 
 against the college in many a saloon that night and was 
 supposed to be somewhere in ambush at this moment 
 doubtless maturing plans for college annihilation. At 
 least he had not come home, and it was nearly twelve. 
 
 Lights were burning late in a dozen rooms about the 
 college buildings that eventful night. Sharpe could see 
 them as he hurried away. He at first had thought to 
 overtake his recent associates in council and make them 
 listen to that which the President refused to hear. He 
 had met Miss Hoyt only half a dozen times, but his wife 
 had met her often, had become her friend and frequent 
 visitor. 
 
 Sharpe believed in the girl and was thoroughly 
 vexed that he had had to speak of her presence at the 
 scene of what promised now to be a tragedy. To be 
 sure, half a dozen others had seen her, though she was 
 led away before Fane revived before they sought to lift 
 him to his feet. Sharpe had not even marked her going. 
 It really made no great difference that he had mentioned 
 the matter. It was sure to be known. And why should 
 it not be ? Miss Hoyt was not the only occupant of Clif 
 ton Hall who occasionally spent an evening at the home 
 
216 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 of those college folk who dwelt beyond the west grove. 
 The broad path from the library to those scattered home 
 steads led along the south edge of the grove, not thirty 
 yards from the spot where Fane was found. Of course 
 it must have been her shrieks that scared and scattered 
 the brutal gang more, probably, than did the shot. 
 Some of them, he remembered, had come leaping down 
 the terrace back of his laboratory. He could hear them 
 plainly, though the forms were but faintly visible. He 
 had feared when called to the President s that some of the 
 students, some of the few recalcitrants whom Fane had 
 disciplined, might be connected with the affray, but the 
 moment he learned that Stetson was home with a dam 
 aged nose he felt sure, and thanked God for it, that the 
 ruffian crew were all probably of the shop and saloon 
 gang, so long prominent in local rows of every kind. 
 
 He now felt sure that Fane had been led by them into 
 ambush. He reasoned, therefore, it was no thought of 
 meeting Miss Hoyt, either by accident or invitation, that 
 brought him to the grove. He believed Fane had been 
 struck from behind before he could think of drawing 
 pistol, knocked down and trampled on. What he could 
 not understand was how Stetson should have received so 
 terrific a blow. What he could not determine was who 
 dealt it. 
 
 Sharpe could hear the slamming of doors, the scurry 
 ing to and fro of nimble feet, the cackle of excited talk 
 as he passed under the lighted windows of the various 
 
THE SHOT FROM THE CEDARS 217 
 
 houses and Halls on the townward side of the college, but 
 he Wished to avoid question avoid in fact everybody 
 until he could better control his nerves and temper. He 
 had dared this night to beard the presidential lion in his 
 den, and was preparing himself to take the consequences. 
 He had gone direct to the President from Fane s bedside, 
 and was exasperated to find the President far more con 
 cerned about Stetson s injuries than those of Fane. He 
 should not even have been surprised. Next to his reli 
 gion and his family, the college was the good doctor s 
 dearest thought. That Fane had been assaulted on the 
 college grounds might advertise, but would hardly injure, 
 the institution. That Stetson had been struck down on 
 college ground, and presumably by a college official, might 
 injure it beyond repair. 
 
 Sharpe had begun greatly to like that young soldier, 
 and was one of the first to swing into line as his sup 
 porter. Sharpe despised Stetson and everything that was 
 Stetson s, and believed in fighting him tooth and nail. 
 Students had told him earlier in the evening of Stetson s 
 blusterings in town, and already he was looking for clues 
 that should connect the elder man, as well as the son, with 
 this felonious and aggravated assault. From a distance 
 now he could see the lights of the Stetson house, and the 
 coming and going of Stetson " heelers." He was just 
 considering whether or no he might venture thither with 
 a view of learning something of Stetson, senior s, move 
 ments, when from the other side of the avenue he heard 
 
218 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the swift thud of hoofs and, turning, saw the side lights 
 of Dr. Raynor s buggy. He sprang into the road and 
 stopped it. 
 
 " How is he now? " he asked. 
 
 " Better, but " The good doctor shook his head. 
 
 " That was a brutal piece of business. He wants to talk 
 with you, but I have persuaded him to try sleep. To-mor 
 row, perhaps. Look here, Sharpe, who how many were 
 with him when you got there ? " 
 
 " Why, old Duggan, or we couldn t have seen, and our 
 two A j axes Post and Linkman, from the observatory, 
 they came running at the same moment. Then, I sup 
 pose you know, Miss Hoyt the new French teacher 
 was passing about the time it happened. It was her 
 screams that called us. She was kneeling by him and 
 lifting his head, and someone was helping her." 
 
 "Student?" 
 
 " I don t know at least I didn t notice." 
 
 " One of those who helped to bring him home ? " 
 
 " Think not. If I remember, he helped Miss Hoyt to 
 her feet and I didn t happen to see him again. He seemed 
 to know her very well," and Sharpe spoke with reluct 
 ance even though he knew the worth of his man. He 
 remembered how Miss Fane s anxious face had darkened 
 when he told her of Miss Hoyt s presence and part in the 
 affair how she had asked if anybody was with Miss 
 Hoyt. 
 
 Dr. Raynor nodded gravely. " She asked her brother 
 
THE SHOT FROM THE CEDARS 219 
 
 some such question and it seemed to irritate him. Have 
 you any clue yet as to the perpetrators? " 
 
 " Clue ! I should say so ! Young Stetson s home with 
 a broken nose, so the President says, and you can see 
 there s a lively bobbery down there. The old man is yet 
 to be heard from " 
 
 " The old man is, or was, being driven about in a hack 
 to sober him off. They went out the Cedar Point road 
 about 9:30 two friends with him, one of them enough 
 like him in bulk and build to be his twin brother. D you 
 know, when you were telling me of the affair I thought 
 of them at once, but you had some reason to suspect 
 students." 
 
 " I had, but that s gone, now that we have young Stet 
 son knocked out. Of course, though, he ll swear and get 
 others to swear he wasn t anywhere near the west grove. 
 Did Fane recognize nobody ? " 
 
 " He says he didn t see a soul. He was looking for no 
 body until he got close to the gym, and all on a sudden 
 that blow came that dazed him a club from behind that 
 felled him on his face. Then everything was a blank 
 until he heard your voice." 
 
 " Well, doesn t he remember firing? " 
 
 " Firing ! What had he to fire ? He never took his 
 pistol. It s there now, every chamber loaded." 
 
 "Well, that s great! The President had it just the 
 other way. However, somebody fired, and somebody 
 made the President believe it was Fane. In fact, 
 
220 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 he s more worked up about that than he is about the 
 assault." 
 
 Then both ceased talking, for two men came rapidly 
 along the board walk from the direction of the Stetson s. 
 They would have gone on by but the doctor hailed them. 
 Everybody knew Raynor ; he was the friend of all classes 
 and conditions of men, and the two halted, though per 
 haps unwilling. 
 
 " That you, Higgins ? " asked the doctor. " How s 
 young Stetson ? " 
 
 " Pretty bad," was the slow answer. " Somebody 
 struck that young feller a croo l blow, an he just out 
 lookin for the old man, who was on a rampage." 
 
 "Old man back?" The doctor ignored other issues. 
 
 " Back an ragin . Says he ll have the law on the col 
 lege for doin up his boy when he was doin his best to 
 rescue the captain. I tell you them students are a tough 
 
 lot." 
 
 " Students was it ? " affably inquired the doctor. 
 
 " Students sure ! " said the citizen. " Didn t he see em 
 in the woods near the Point? Who else would be for 
 batin the captain ? " 
 
 Verily the President had reason to dread the issue 
 and the Evening Star. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 
 
 FANE was up with the fifth day, much against the 
 physician s advice ; but the tremendous stories 
 afloat had reached his eyes and ears, especially 
 that ~T the Star. Young Stetson could not be heard as 
 yet, but the father had no such limitations. It may be 
 safely asserted that, outside of college circles, nine-tenths 
 of the community were ready to believe the Stetson story 
 as told by that paper, to-wit: that, smarting under the 
 injustice done him by the Faculty, the young fellow had 
 been looking everywhere for his father in hopes of get 
 ting him to go to the President for a final appeal. Con 
 trary to his usual habit and having guests to entertain, 
 Mr. Stetson had decided on taking them for a late fish 
 dinner at Cedar Point, and young Stetson, hearing of 
 this, had later started to walk thither, taking the short 
 cut through the college grounds. When nearing the 
 west grove in the darkness he caught sight of Captain 
 Fane passing underneath the lamp post at Fullan gate 
 and entering the grove from the south. The next 
 moment he heard furious blows, a stifled cry for help and 
 a shot and, " knowing the hatred in which Fane was held 
 by many students," instantly divined the cause, rushed to 
 
 221 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the rescue and, even while striving to defend the pros 
 trate form, was felled by a savage blow with some heavy 
 bludgeon that blinded him and broke his nose. In doing 
 good for evil he had nobly suffered martyrdom, declared 
 the elder Stetson, and it was now the college s turn and 
 opportunity to do right by at once re-instating the boy. 
 If it didn t, Stetson and the law would be heard from. 
 
 Miss Hoyt had not left her room since the night of the 
 occurrence indeed had hardly left her bed, and the 
 matron and physician of the Hall declared her too much 
 shaken to submit to interrogations such as the President 
 desired. 
 
 The story she told at the time was that, feeling ill 
 and nervous, she had gone out for air, and was sud 
 denly shocked by the sound of blows and struggles close 
 at hand in the grove. Then came a shot, whereat in 
 fright she screamed for help. Some dark forms rushed 
 away, and then, hearing moans, she followed the sound 
 and there lay Captain Fane. Duggan came almost 
 instantly thereafter, and others, and finally she was led 
 away. Yes, in answer to the matron s question, asked 
 three days later, she certainly saw dimly one form, that 
 of young Stetson, slowly and painfully finding his feet 
 and holding his hands to his face. Then many came 
 running, and he disappeared. 
 
 Fane, interrogated by the President as to why he had 
 gone armed and what had happened, replied that he had 
 not gone armed whereat the President looked dazed, 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 
 
 and later doubtful and that there would have been no 
 opportunity to use arms even had he carried a pistol. 
 He was struck down suddenly from behind, and actually 
 knew nothing more. The anonymous note was shown 
 to the doctor; he read, and stowed it in his pocket. It 
 seemed to him unseemly that, then, both Captain 
 and Miss Fane declined to part with it even to 
 him. 
 
 " You criticise me for going armed when, more than 
 any man in this community, was I unarmed," said Fane 
 unflinchingly, " and now I decline to part with proofs 
 that may be needed to repel other .accusations." Verily, 
 between Fane and Sharpe the good doctor was gaining 
 new and undesired views on the doctrine he so long 
 had preached that of individual responsibility and 
 independence of action. Like Thomas Jefferson, Sir 
 Joseph Porter, K. C. B., and other expounders on social 
 equality, Dr. Parsons was amazed when it reacted upon 
 himself and his assumed prerogative. 
 
 But it was now becoming evident to those who knew 
 Fane that he was far more perturbed in spirit than 
 injured in the flesh. In falling his left arm had doubled 
 under him and escaped further damage. The blow at 
 the back of the head had been severe and stunning and 
 the brutal trampling or kiddng that followed had badly 
 bruised and disfigured his face. One hack on the right 
 cheek would probably leave a scar as permanent as the 
 Apache mark along the forehead. But his wrath over 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the affair was far too deep for words. It was something 
 of which, apparently, he could not bear to speak, and 
 declined to speak, even when the President himself 
 appeared a second time, asking to be shown to the 
 patient s room, where, it seems, he had wasted little 
 time in expressions of regret or sympathy, but quite a 
 number of words in questions which failed to elicit the 
 desired answer. Fane shut his jaws like a steel trap, 
 and his eyes had a look the President afterwards spoke 
 of as furious, when it became obvious that the object was 
 to draw admission that Fane had knowledge of certain 
 after-dark movements .of a certain resident of Clifton 
 Hall. The President left without the information he 
 desired, and with additional and somewhat alarming 
 insight into the character of this intractable, if not insub 
 ordinate, subordinate. 
 
 When Fane reappeared to his few friends of the 
 Faculty he was all cordiality and gratitude to Sharpe 
 and Lorimer. He was icy to Beerbohm, and he wouldn t 
 go near the President. They thought, many of them, 
 that now he would surely resign and quit. Indeed, it 
 was understood that the Executive Committee stood 
 ready to act at once, but Sharpe laughed loud at the 
 idea. 
 
 " So far from resigning," said he, " you ll find that 
 young man sticking tighter than wax to his work. If 
 the Trustees are asked to decide anything, it will be what 
 salary to give him. Listen to that!" 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 
 
 " That," as it turned out, was a sudden and tumultuous 
 outburst of cheers from the gymnasium, where the reap 
 pearance of the commandant had led to a scene, as 
 Kipling would put it, " totally unprovided for in the 
 regulations," a burst of cheers from the battalion, rein 
 forced by over a hundred young men of the under 
 graduate body, who had been holding a students meeting 
 to express their sentiments regarding the articles appear 
 ing in the press. That meeting, called by the students 
 themselves in accordance with the custom of the college, 
 led to new and unlooked-for developments. It had been 
 addressed by the President, who counseled moderation; 
 said much about their duty to the State and to the college, 
 more about the evil influences of the saloon, and still 
 more about the unseemly spirit of combativeness, the lust 
 for battle, the rage for revenge, that he feared would 
 influence their councils instead of that broad and Chris- 
 tianlike attitude toward their fellow men that should 
 characterize the deliberations of the youth of these 
 enlightened days. He received his meed of applause 
 they always applauded, and most of them honored, their 
 President. Then, with his coat tails streaming in the 
 wind and his felt hat crammed down and held on the 
 back of his head, he strode away across the campus to 
 another meeting, a meeting of the professors, called by 
 himself to consider certain changes in the regulations 
 applying to Clifton Hall changes, as he said, " sug 
 gested by recent events," and he, too, heard and was 
 
226 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 arrested by the sudden outburst of cheers. He looked 
 back in mild astonishment. 
 
 " It s for the captain," explained old Duggan, with a 
 Celtic grin. " He s a good-plucked one, an it 11 be a 
 sorry day for them town blackguards when he gets out 
 and after em." 
 
 The President sighed and passed within. Could he 
 never teach these fiery young spirits that when one cheek 
 had been sore smitten, the other also, in meekness and 
 resignation, should be turned? 
 
 Apparently not. Fane had heard of the proposed 
 action at the gymnasium ; had his own reasons for desir 
 ing to stay it and, all unannounced and unlooked for, 
 appeared in the midst of a stirring impromptu from the 
 lips of a speechmaking senior who would " hurl back 
 into the teeth of the Evening Star the false and defama 
 tory allegations at the expense of the student body." He 
 challenged proof ; he courted investigation ; he demanded 
 apology, retraction, and, unlimbering a set of fulminat 
 ing resolutions, had begun to read them, when his voice 
 was drowned in a torrent of cheers. The next thing he 
 knew Fane himself had been chaired to the firewood box 
 that was the improvised rostrum, and, presently, in re 
 sponse to tumultuous demand, Fane s voice, less ringing 
 than they had ever heard it, yet powerful for good, was 
 uplifted in a brief speech long remembered in the legends 
 and traditions of the State " Co-Eductional." 
 
 " I want to thank you first for this most unlooked-for 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 227 
 
 welcome and greeting. It is something new to me 
 something I shall not soon forget. You have spoken for 
 me, drilled for me, and, as I have learned, some of you 
 have stood up and fought for me. Now I am going to 
 ask you to go still further, to do something for me that 
 in your loyalty and friendliness you haven t done yet. I 
 ask you to be silent for me. 
 
 " No wonder you look surprised. I heard the latter 
 part of the last speaker s address, and I am grateful for 
 every word said for the battalion, for the student body 
 and for myself. I heard the resolutions. They are 
 indeed stirring. They are too stirring. You know, and 
 I know, that no student of this college had any part in 
 the assault of that Friday night. [Cheers.] You know 
 and I know one at least of the participants. [" You bet 
 we do."] But you do not know what I do know, that 
 there is something more to this matter than as yet 
 appears. The action you propose would have the effect 
 of warning men I most need to reach. I ask you to help 
 me, and the more you stir things the less you will help. 
 Be patient, therefore, and be silent. Leave this matter 
 to me, and bear this in mind: If I do not settle it once 
 and for all within a month I ll leave the field to you. 
 This you may count on: I shall ask no aid from the 
 college in nailing the man, or settling with him when I 
 find him." 
 
 In garbled and exaggerated form, of course, the words 
 went to the press, but the resolutions did not. It was 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 held by the Star that, in so speaking, Captain Fane dis 
 tinctly threatened some person or persons hitherto unsus 
 pected, and it was believed that "one of our most 
 respected citizens " was aimed at. Now, Stetson, senior, 
 had unaccountably left town. By a night train he had 
 gone, it was said, to Chicago. An uproarious demon 
 stration on the part of the students, consequent upon the 
 Star s renewal of its attack upon Fane, and its assertion 
 "that the students themselves were his real assailants, may 
 have had something to do with this exodus. The son 
 and heir, still under guard of the family physician, had 
 not yet, by daytime, at least, left the house. But Fane s 
 appeal to the student body had had double effect. 
 Demonstrations ceased. Drills were resumed, and ten 
 names hitherto reported excused by the President were, 
 at the request of the excused, added to the battalion rolls. 
 
 Then followed a five days lull in the fight, and then 
 came a stranger and even more mysterious move. Profes 
 sor Beerbohm, closing up after the final recitation of the 
 day, was notified that the President desired to see him 
 at the office at once, and at that office already sat Profes 
 sors Sharpe and Lorimer, in company with a stranger. 
 The President seldom introduced people. He said it 
 was a waste of time : people who desired to know other 
 people waited for no such intermediary. He went, as 
 was his wont, straight to business. 
 
 " Did you bring anybody to see me Friday evening a 
 week ago ? " 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 229 
 
 Beerbohm reflected, began to color and finally said: 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " You came in about tea time, as I remember ; didn t 
 you?" 
 
 " / did, yes, sir, but I brought nobody." 
 
 The good doctor turned to his fellows of the Faculty. 
 
 "" The captain must have been mistaken," said he. 
 
 " Not entirely," said Professor Sharpe. " Pardon me 
 if I ask Professor Beerbohm a question. Was it not 
 that evening you went through from College Avenue to 
 the President, walking with a stranger, in a dark sack 
 suit?" 
 
 " Yes," said Beerbohm, warily and uneasily. " But 
 he was merely asking the way and I was showing 
 him." 
 
 " To Mr. Stetson s house, was it not ? " persisted 
 Sharpe. 
 
 " To Mr. Stetson s," answered Beerbohm, flushing, 
 with ill-concealed annoyance. 
 
 " Would you mind telling this this gentleman what 
 name he gave and what happened ? " And Sharpe indi 
 cated the silent stranger. 
 
 " He gave no name that I now remember. He 
 appeared interested in college matters and talked enter 
 tainingly until we parted in front of the President s. I 
 never met him before." 
 
 "But you met him after, I believe?" hazarded the 
 stranger very civilly. 
 
230 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Beerbohm hesitated: " Not since that night," was, 
 however, his answer. 
 
 " True not since that night ; but once again that 
 night, did you not ? " 
 
 It was now time for the professor to manifest right 
 eous resentment. What could this close examination 
 portend ? He had seen the stranger again that night, and 
 he did not at all wish to say how and when and why. " I 
 protest," said he, "against this inquisition until I know 
 what it means." 
 
 " It means, professor," said the stranger, " that a man 
 closely resembling Mr. Stetson in several ways was with 
 you at Mr. Stetson s house that night went out, in fact, 
 with Mr. Stetson, and now is very much needed to put a 
 quietus on damaging stories afloat. You say he did not 
 give his name, but, did nobody give it for him ? " 
 
 " Mr. President," said Beerbohm excitedly, appeal- 
 ingly, " I have had annoyance and trouble enough grow 
 ing out of the the complications that have arisen here 
 since since Mr. Fane s advent, and now I object to being 
 catechized by a stranger. If you have any questions to 
 ask I will answer them." 
 
 Now it was characteristic of the President that when, 
 " for the good of the college," as he said, he believed it 
 possible to influence an influential man, he would not 
 hesitate to call upon him and seek to advise or dictate, 
 even when he and that man had been at loggerheads for 
 months. But, while he could see nothing objectionable 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 
 
 in his calling upon even objectionable persons, he 
 strongly objected to such a course on part of any other 
 man connected with the college. There could be nothing 
 suspicious in his going, for instance, to see Mr. Stetson. 
 There could be nothing, however, that was not suspicious 
 in Professor Beerbohm s doing so. When trustees or 
 politicians were to be enlightened as to college matters, 
 Dr. Parsons decreed that it was his light that should so 
 shine as to color the subject in accordance with his presi 
 dential views. Only when he so directed, therefore, did 
 he desire his subordinates to call upon these notoriously 
 disreputable but admittedly influential people. Yet here 
 it looked as though, without a word to him on the sub 
 ject, Professor Beerbohm had gone direct from the presi 
 dential presence to the home of the objectionable Stet 
 son Stetson who on that very evening had been heard 
 of as drunk and denunciatory among the downtown 
 saloons. The President himself had begun to bristle at 
 the tone and trend of the stranger s questions. Now, in 
 tone much less courteous than the latter s, and in manner 
 both suspicious and irritated, Parsons sent in his own 
 query : 
 
 " Then you rejoined this man at Stetson s after leav 
 ing my house ? " 
 
 " I did, sir. It was a matter of charity and courtesy. 
 He had come to see Mr. Stetson on important business, 
 he said, and I had heard had reason to believe Mr. 
 Stetson was not at home and probably would not be at 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 home. As a matter of fact, however, he did come, in a 
 carriage, while I was there, and later they drove away 
 together." 
 
 " You knew of Stetson s not being at home. Why did 
 you not tell him so before?" 
 
 " That possibly was an afterthought, Mr. Presi 
 dent." 
 
 " H m ! and how long were you there, and what kept 
 you after Stetson s home coming? more charity?" 
 demanded Parsons austerely. 
 
 " Partially, at least," was the nettled answer, " for he 
 needed looking after, and if I made myself useful under 
 the circumstances, I did no more than our President has 
 frequently preached " 
 
 " I don t know anything about that ! " broke in the 
 good doctor irascibly. " What I object to is having 
 members of our faculty at any time seeking the influence 
 of the saloon element. Especially is it to be deprecated 
 at the present time." 
 
 It must be owned that the conference was becoming 
 livelier than its promoters, Professors Sharpe and Lori- 
 mer, had expected or intended. The look of whimsical 
 enjoyment was fast flitting from the eyes of the former, 
 while Lorimer sat silent and embarrassed. By him sat 
 the stranger, observant, but in no wise obtrusive. The 
 President s questions were saving him just so much 
 trouble. A hot rejoinder from the lips of the much 
 badgered Beerbohm was stopped by the entrance of the 
 
A RUMBLE OF THUNDER 233 
 
 janitor, hat in hand. " The captain is not home, sir," 
 said he, and laid a note on the table. The President 
 briefly glanced through it ; then looked up, quickly, relief 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " The man we most want," said he, " can t be back 
 before to-morrow evening. Captain Fane is in Chicago. 
 This meeting is adjourned. Professor Beerbohm will 
 remain. I wish to speak with him." 
 
 " If that be the case," said Beerbohm on the instant, 
 
 " I desire that Professors Sharpe and Lorimer remain 
 as witnesses." 
 
 The stranger arose, and bowed civilly. " With your 
 leave, Mr. President," said he, " I shall retire in one 
 moment ; but I have two question to ask Professor Beer 
 bohm." And without further parley he took from a flat 
 wallet a card photograph and held it forth to the flushed 
 and angering scientist. "That," said he, "is, I think, 
 the gentleman you saw driving away with Stetson ? " 
 
 " It is at least the picture of him," was the short 
 reply. 
 
 " Well answered, professor. Now, one more : What 
 suggested your writing to this gentleman for inside 
 information as to Captain Fane s conduct in Arizona ? " 
 Beerbohm s face turned suddenly livid. For an instant 
 he could make no answer. The next, he impulsively 
 began, " I never But what was the use ? He saw 
 
 the man knew. 
 
 " I wrote because I considered this college entitled to 
 
234 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 know the real character of this officer who was making so 
 
 much trouble " 
 
 " Precisely ; and this man Stetson cat s-pawed you into 
 doing what he dared not do making you, what s more, 
 almost directly responsible for what followed, or may yet 
 follow. Good-day, gentlemen." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A TURN IN THE TIDE 
 
 MISS FANE was in sore disquietude. Out of 
 all proportion with the gravity of the assault 
 upon him was her brother s mind inflamed by 
 recent events. For one thing, the tide of college opinion 
 had turned surprisingly in his favor as the result of the 
 fray, so why care for the community? For another 
 thing, professors and professors wives, who hitherto had 
 seemed to hold aloof, had come in numbers to call upon 
 them and to sympathize. They left, it must be owned, 
 less sympathetic than they came, because poor Mrs. Fane 
 could not forget his grievance, and received them with a 
 majesty of mien quite at variance with the humble char 
 acter of their surroundings. For still another thing, the 
 press throughout the State had begun to take issue with 
 the Star, and home letters from students finding their way 
 into many a home paper threw a very different and far 
 less lurid light over matters at college. The brutal force 
 of the blow, therefore, had brought on almost as forceful 
 reaction. 
 
 Yet her brother seemed tuned to a pitch of nervous 
 excitement, if not irritability, Jane had never seen in him 
 before. He could not sleep. He was up and about at 
 all hours of the night. He would not explain. He was 
 
 235 
 
236 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " scouting a trail," he said, and had no time to talk. He 
 would tell her by and by. He was sending and receiv 
 ing telegrams and letters, Chicago being the seat of the 
 storm center. He had heard thrice from Hazlett, whose 
 " wires " or letters seemed to excite him more than ever. 
 He had thrice asked Jane if she had been to call on Miss 
 Hoyt; if not, why not? And Jane went against her will, 
 though she, too, had heard how her brother s senseless 
 head, senseless and bleeding, had been lifted in Miss 
 Hoyt s arms, to the ruin of Miss Hoyt s much-admired 
 fall walking suit. She still cherished the story of Miss 
 Hoyt s many masculine letters, and the memory of Miss 
 Hoyt s mysterious night interview with that masculine 
 unknown. She went because Ronald kept asking, and 
 came away civilly rebuffed : " Miss Hoyt is unable to 
 see callers to-day," and at that very moment, unless Miss 
 Fane s sharp eyes were mistaken, Mrs. Sharpe was with 
 Miss Hoyt. Mrs. Sharpe for that matter had been with 
 her every day, and some nights, and Mrs. Sharpe wars a 
 woman no other woman about the college ever spoke of 
 save in respect. Jane was troubled puzzled wearied. 
 She thought she had had reason to stifle Ronald s admira 
 tion for that girl. She had staggered it. She could see 
 that. But something had served to revive his keen and 
 vehement interest. He desired to know when Miss 
 Hoyt would receive Jane? The next thing, probably, he 
 would be demanding that she should receive him. 
 Then there had come a wire, late one evening, and by 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 237 
 
 the midnight train he left for Chicago, and on the follow 
 ing day there called a well-dressed stranger who pre 
 sented a letter in Ronald s hand, bidding her place in the 
 hand of the stranger certain papers in a certain pigeon 
 hole in his desk. She obeyed, wondering. She followed 
 the stranger with her eyes and saw him join Professor 
 Sharpe down the street, and, somehow, was impressed 
 with the idea that Sharpe had escorted him almost to the 
 door, then remained in the background. The next hour 
 brought the janitor with the request from the President 
 that Fane come to his office at once, and Jane wrote 
 reply to the effect that her brother was in Chicago, and 
 reminded the President that he had said he preferred 
 Captain Fane should not disturb him when he wished to 
 go anywhere that, between drills, he was free to go and 
 come. Indeed, the President had spoken as though he 
 wished the captain might go and stay. 
 
 Fane would not return until the following morning, 
 she wrote the President, and such had been his plan, yet 
 he was home that very evening, late, and with him came 
 that stranger, the quiet-mannered, well-dressed man, 
 garbed like a civilian and bearing himself like a soldier. 
 She could have rushed upon him with both hands when 
 Ronald quietly presented him by name, " Captain 
 Hazlett." 
 
 Mrs. Fane and the Lady Clare, however, monopolized 
 much of the visitor s time, so " plain Jane " had but scant 
 opportunity to speak with him. At ten o clock Fane had 
 
238 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 laughingly called " time " and carried him away to his 
 own room. There, together, Hazlett and Ronald, they had 
 talked earnestly a full hour. At eleven Ronald came to 
 his sister s door; kissed her good-night, saying it might 
 be nearly twelve before he returned; then escorted his 
 friend and comrade to the railway station and saw him 
 off for Chicago. She looked and saw the light in his 
 window in the wing as late as 12:30, and longed to go 
 down to him, for she, too, was sleepless, but she knew it 
 would only worry him now. She read awhile and looked 
 again and the light was still there. Then she must have 
 dozed a little while, for again the big bell struck its 
 solemn, single note, following in her mind so close upon 
 the other that it had the effect of a funeral toll, and with 
 something like a shudder she found herself counting ten 
 seconds in expectation of the coming of another stroke. 
 Then, wide awake, once more she turned down her read 
 ing lamp ; once more strolled to the window and gazed 
 down at Ronald s. 
 
 One o clock, and his light was still there. Moreover, 
 she was not the only watcher of the light. Somebody 
 else was there somebody moving stealthily and slowly, 
 close to the dark wall. She might not have seen the 
 shadowy form at all, for there was no moon, the starlight 
 was dim, and the nearest gas lamp but faintly illumined 
 that part of the yard. The figure, however, at the very 
 moment she gazed forth, had uplifted hand and arm. 
 She could see them, black against the glow from within; 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 239 
 
 the hand softly tapping at the window pane; then down 
 it dropped, and by straining her eyes she could faintly 
 see the figure skulking back to the corner of the wing, 
 from which point both the lighted window at the front 
 and the door at the side could be watched, and there, 
 crouching, it seemed to await the result of the signal. 
 
 But there was no result. The shade was not lifted. 
 The window remained closed. The shadow at the cor 
 ner stirred uneasily, and Jane watched with throbbing 
 heart. Did this mean more mischief, or w r as it warning 
 thereof? If menace or mischief, would the shadow have 
 retreated to the corner whence no blow or missile could be 
 delivered? Unless, indeed, and Jane was quick to think 
 and as quick to search, confederates might be lurking a 
 rod or two away in readiness to loose shot or stone? 
 But, though dark, the yard was open, flat, a miniature 
 croquet ground, affording no place for concealment. 
 The shadow had probably come from the back of the 
 premises, and retired the way it came. The shadow 
 might have a pistol. It certainly carried no visible 
 weapon. It certainly had sought to attract the attention 
 of the occupant of that room, and no one else. It as 
 certainly was awaiting, in obvious impatience, the result. 
 Jane, too, waited, and presently it came again, creeping 
 along the white-painted, dark-looming front of the wing 
 until once again at the lighted window, and once again 
 hand and arm went up to the pane and thrice, low, yet 
 distinct, the sharp, vitreous sound was heard. The hand 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 was then again withdrawn, and the figure crouched half 
 way to the corner, and again waited and listened. 
 
 Jane, peering through the green shutters and count 
 ing her hurried heartbeats, still watched and waited. 
 Could Ronald at last have fallen asleep? If not, and he 
 was within the room, he must have heard, yet would give 
 no sign. One minute, nearly, they waited again, the 
 crouching, shadowy form, the watchful woman at the 
 casement, and then a third time the shadow approached 
 the window; paused beneath, and then two hands went 
 up to the pane, and sharp and sudden, clear and distinct, 
 the fingers beat upon the glazed soundingboard a signal 
 no soldier could possibly mistake. Jane knew it instantly, 
 and started with astonishment, for not since she left Fort 
 Adams had it reached her ears. It was the stirring drum 
 beat of " Adjutant s Call." 
 
 This, then, was someone to whom army calls were 
 familiar, and such calls were far less familiar in the 7o s 
 than they are to-day. This then was probably no col 
 lege student, for though they had their bugles in the 
 little battalion, there had been as yet, since Ronald came, 
 no battalion formation no adjutant s call. They had 
 not indeed a drum or drummer. Whoever it was strum 
 ming that signal on Ronald s window, he had learned it 
 elsewhere, and not at Groveton. Now, indeed, must 
 Ronald answer, or be deaf to it. 
 
 Another minute she waited, and no answer came. The 
 light burned steadily, but all was silent. The call was 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 
 
 not repeated. The shadow presently stole slowly, reluc 
 tantly away, vanishing finally in the deeper shadows 
 around the corner of the little wing. Jane could stand 
 it no longer. Taking with her a little night lamp, she 
 stole into the narrow hallway, down the stairs and 
 through the deserted parlor and dining room to another 
 hallway leading to the wing. She found his door 
 unlocked, his room unoccupied, his pillow unruffled, his 
 wardrobe open, his revolver gone. Ah, she wished he 
 had not taken that! Whatever his errand, his extrem 
 ity, she wished he had not taken that! There was 
 little likelihood, she reasoned, of further violence to him. 
 Public sentiment, that at first had been indifferent to his 
 possible danger, had roused vehemently after the attack. 
 It is our national characteristic. We scorn precaution 
 for ourselves; we scoff at it for our national servants, 
 but we wake in righteous wrath when once the brutal 
 deed is done. We boast ourselves perennially of the 
 approachableness of our leaders, and kick ourselves a 
 day or two, perhaps, when at odd intervals, in open light 
 and in the midst of his own people, a beloved President 
 is assassinated. We blow up by scores our friends and 
 fellow citizens through defective mines or weakened 
 boilers. We burn up by hundreds our women and chil 
 dren in playhouses and pleasure boats. We grind them 
 to fragments in excusion trains and railway tragedies. 
 We rage a lot when the mischief is done, but achieve 
 little more than we did before in the way of an " ounce 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 of prevention." We have had a half century of experi 
 ences that should have brought wisdom, but have killed 
 off far more victims this end of the half than we did at 
 the other. 
 
 Groveton was as certainly wondering now why Fane 
 did not carry a pistol as two weeks before it would have 
 been censuring had he carried one. But Jane was look 
 ing at it all from still another point of view, and Jane 
 was more than troubled troubled that at so late an hour 
 her brother should be out at all troubled that, being 
 out, he should carry that revolver. The danger was no 
 longer in her eyes that others might injure him, but that 
 he might injure others. Knowing him as she did; know 
 ing his quick, high temper; knowing how furiously he 
 raged at heart over the cowardly assault upon him, the 
 covert indignity to his uniform ; knowing how deep was 
 his sense of wrong and how keen his longing to meet his 
 foeman face to face, she deplored his having taken that 
 weapon with him. Had Jane begun to know that still 
 other things had happened to stir to the uttermost his 
 fiery nature, her anxiety would have been redoubled. 
 
 That knowledge was yet to come, and to confound her. 
 
 Slowly she turned away. There were letters and 
 memoranda lying on the little table, some of them tempt 
 ingly half open, but Jane had been brooding over that 
 single case of spying to which she humbly pleaded guilty. 
 Ronald had said he would tell her later what all this 
 mystery meant, and though sore troubled and sleepless 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 
 
 from anxiety, she would not spy further, even to the 
 extent of reading open pages. Perhaps if she had she 
 might have averted more than one fateful consequence, 
 but read she would not. Ronald could not bear it in 
 man or woman that he or she should peep or pry into 
 other people s affairs, and Ron was growing beyond her, 
 away from her, the sister who so loved him. God forbid 
 she should do aught that might ever drive him aloof 
 from her. She would go back to her room, but she must 
 leave a line for him. A blank " pad " lay on the desk, a 
 pencil beside it, and she wrote: 
 
 I am so anxious, Ron, dear. Seeing your light burning so late 
 brought me down, and there was somebody spying signaling 
 at your window. I had to come down and you were gone 
 your revolver, too. I ll tell you all about it in the morning. 
 Whoever it was, he s gone and it s long after one nearer 
 two. Lovingly, J. 
 
 Was he gone? Something impelled her to stop a 
 minute and try the little side door that opened on the 
 yard. It was unbolted, but the lock worked clumsily, 
 and snapped as she essayed to open snapped and 
 attracted the instant attention of some shadowy thing 
 standing at the coping of the old well between the open 
 ing door and the westward sky something that started, 
 that came quickly, stealthily, a few steps toward her, then 
 suddenly stopped, seemed to stare an instant, then turned 
 and plunged through the currant bushes at the back of 
 
244 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the wing, and was out of sight in another second. Her 
 little lamp, upheld, had thrown its beam upon her 
 anxious face. It was not the face the intruder hoped 
 and looked to see. What stranger, friend or foe, was 
 this that haunted her brother s door long hours in the 
 dead of night? 
 
 And still she wished that Ronald had not taken his 
 revolver ! 
 
 Wearily she went back to her room, blew out her light, 
 softly opened her window shutters, and crouched there, 
 looking out upon the chill and silent night. No wind 
 was stirring. No cloud was scudding across the sky. 
 A dense veil of vapor seemed to be drawn across the 
 firmament, shrouding even the planets in their solemn 
 round. The nearest street lamp threw a pallid gleam 
 along the board walk at the front and part way across 
 the unpaved street. Darkness brooded over all the 
 neighborhood, even to the distant buildings on college 
 hill. Only from two windows, far or near, was there 
 sign of wakefulness within. Twenty minutes earlier 
 there was only one. First was this bright one close at 
 hand from Ronald s bedroom in the wing. Second was 
 that dim one over to the westward, across the faintly 
 plashing waters, somewhere among the tawdry buildings 
 on the Island, the now supposedly deserted pleasure 
 resort much affected in the summertime and early 
 autumn by Stetson and his cronies. Once or twice of 
 late had Jane noticed a night light at " the Roost," as 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 245 
 
 some of the students derisively called it, but when she 
 spoke of it, Mrs. Jamieson, who happened to hear, was 
 prompt to say she had probably seen some locomotive 
 headlight much farther beyond. There was no one on 
 the Island now but an old German care-taker and his 
 wife. The resort, such as it was, had closed for the 
 season long weeks before. These Germans, said Mrs. 
 Jamieson, were never astir after dark, and often asleep, 
 in the daytime. 
 
 Then who was astir over there to-night ? It was close 
 to the hour of two. Jane expected every moment to 
 hear the deep boom of the college bell, yet, late as it was, 
 somebody must be moving about among those distant 
 and deserted buildings. There was a sort of pavilion 
 and dancing platform, roofed above but open at the sides. 
 There was a bowling alley with a wooden observation 
 tower. There was a main building in which were the 
 bar and billiard room, living rooms, kitchen and card 
 rooms, for rumor had it that gambling was rife there in 
 the height of the season. There was a little boathouse 
 with a wooden landing pier down at the townward side, 
 and now at 2, a. m., for " the Senator," as the students 
 called the bell, spoke at the instant a light as of a lan 
 tern was dancing from the building at the summit down 
 to the landing at the shore, while the light near the 
 summit still burned, dim yet steady. 
 
 Jane took from its case a binocular field glass that 
 had been her father s in the war days, and focused it on 
 
246 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the summit light. It seemed to be that of a kerosene 
 lamp in the bar or office. Then she sought that other, 
 the dancing light, and presently found it stirring about 
 a moment among the rocks at the little landing. Then 
 it seemed to drop into a boat or something of the kind 
 and at once popped out of sight. Three minutes more 
 and a shade seemed drawn across the other, the one at 
 the Roost, for it first dimmed, then disappeared, and all 
 at the island was darkness. 
 
 Searching the surface with her glasses Jane presently 
 decided that, though faint and feeble, some kind of a 
 misty, will-o -the-wisp gleam was sailing slowly across 
 the water, coming steadily in shore near that rocky point 
 where Ronald had had his first local meeting with that 
 girl at the Hall. How Jane wished Ronald had never 
 met her at all ! Jane was not slow to reach the conclu 
 sion that a little rowboat was ferrying somebody from 
 the island to the mainland, and the lantern was hidden in 
 the stern sheets. In four minutes it had passed behind 
 the curtain of a neighboring fringe of trees, and Jane 
 saw it no more. Now they might be landing at the 
 Point. Now they might be stealthily parting for the 
 night Now, perhaps Ronald would be coming home. 
 What could he have been doing at the Island ? 
 
 Fifteen minutes was not long to wait, now that she 
 had been waiting so much longer. Fifteen minutes 
 might bring him; twenty minutes did. She saw no 
 form. She heard no sound, but somebody coming up 
 
A TURN IN THE TIDE 
 
 from the lakeside must have silently entered the door of 
 the wing, for, all on a sudden, the light in Ronald s room 
 was turned low. Then the window was softly opened. 
 The shutters were unlatched and drawn in. The room 
 was closed for the night. 
 
 Not two minutes later a light, tiny but clear and 
 steady, as suddenly shot into view beyond the bay, com 
 ing from the topmost of that little clump of frame build 
 ings at the Roost, a light that glowed steadily about five 
 seconds, was as suddenly snuffed out, and as suddenly 
 shone again. And so, alternately, regularly, with clock- 
 like precision, at about five-second intervals, that light 
 for full three minutes later twinkled in and out across 
 the wave, and Jane watched with dilating eyes, rising 
 slowly to her feet and standing finally erect as she stared 
 through her powerful glass. Whoever the operator, 
 whatever the purpose, there was but one interpretation, 
 and Jane, who time and again had seen the swinging 
 flame of the army torch, the flare of the Navy Coston 
 lights, read unerringly and understood. Someone at 
 the Island was striving to attract the attention of some 
 one on the shore. Someone in trouble was surely 
 signaling for aid. Ronald at last was home, and Ronald 
 should know. For the second time, late that night, she 
 left her chamber and sped on tiptoe through the dark 
 stairway, through the dark room and hall below, until, 
 breathless, she reached his door. It stood wide open 
 and a bright light shone into the little corridor, though 
 
248 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 the window had been dark but the moment before. 
 Timidly and in low tone she called his name, but there 
 came no answer, and she stepped within. There stood 
 the lamp upon the shelf, bright burning as when last she 
 saw it, but curtain and shade were both tight closed. 
 There stood the wardrobe, open as she had left it, but 
 on the back of a chair in front of it was thrown a civilian 
 sackcoat Ronald had been wearing earlier in the night. 
 There on the table lay her scribbled lines, not where she 
 had left them, but to one side. There on the table where 
 she had left the note now lay Ronald s army revolver, its 
 cylinder removed and missing, and then a click at the 
 latch of the little side door, a quick, light step in the 
 passage, a sudden halt at the threshold and there, hatless, 
 coatless, in slippered feet and gazing at her with startled 
 eyes and with pallid face stood her brother the missing 
 cylinder in the powder-stained ringers of his right hand. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 
 
 OLD DUGGAN, night watchman and deputy 
 janitor of the " Co-Educational," had of late 
 been having some strange experiences. Student 
 pranks he knew of old and had often been a victim. 
 Girlish frolics in the form of pillow rights and hair- 
 comb serenades he had sometimes heard, but never seen. 
 Surreptitious suppers, hoisted to upper windows from 
 the hands of lavish classmates of the sterner sex, he had 
 occasionally trailed, too late either to seize the supplies 
 or the source thereof. The Co-Eds declared he was too 
 soft-hearted to do either. Once he had broken up a 
 " horse riddle " party, and also the fiddle, but that was 
 because the instrument was productive of vile and dis 
 cordant noises. Duggan had never yet arrested the per 
 formers in a nocturnal musicale where the resultant 
 melody was sweet and harmonious. The President, 
 indeed, had accused him of unbecoming laxity in the 
 performance of his duty, for the President had no ear 
 for music. The matron had reported him for aiding 
 and abetting in smuggling contraband cookies, caramels 
 and chocolate creams, and a Scotch verdict was the sole 
 result. In blocking any case of malicious mischief Dug 
 gan was commendably prompt and zealous, but in deal- 
 
 249 
 
250 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 ing with the student body in minor malefactions th old 
 Irishman was imbecility itself. 
 
 When, therefore, he was called to " attend the Presi 
 dent," the invariable formula in which the President s 
 Mercury conveyed that information, and asked if he 
 had seen or heard anything of a midnight prowler under 
 neath the west windows of Clifton Hall, Duggan, think 
 ing it only another case of chocolate creams, said no, 
 and was startled by the vehemence of the President s 
 next remark : " Then you have been asleep or in collu 
 sion. If he appears again and you fail to apprehend him, 
 I ll nominate your successor to the Board of Trustees." 
 
 It seems the matron was the informant or complain 
 ant. She said that not only had a man been seen two 
 nights in succession, and just after twelve, peering up 
 at the windows on the west side, but he had dared to 
 attempt to attract the attention of the occupants by throw 
 ing pebbles up at the windows. What Duggan did not 
 know was that when the matron was cross-examined as 
 to this she amended her statement by saying " a " win 
 dow. Being further questioned, the matron reluctantly 
 said it was Miss Hoyt s window, for, in common with 
 many others, both teachers and students, the matron had 
 found herself more and more attracted to Miss Hoyt, 
 and this in spite of the rumors about those letters, the 
 night meeting with the unknown, and the episode of the 
 west grove. 
 
 Then the President gave instructions that Miss Hoyt 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 251 
 
 should temporarily be moved to another room, and that 
 Miss Hinton, a self-reliant amazon who had grown with 
 the college from its infancy, should occupy Miss Hoyt s ; 
 and the matron, with some misgiving as to the result, 
 communicated the President s wishes to those most con 
 cerned. Miss Hoyt expressed no objection. She was 
 still, possibly, too ill in mind and body to be anything 
 but inert. Miss Hinton, however, behaved with her 
 accustomed spirit. She would go on watch, she said, 
 whenever the President desired. She would sleep, how 
 ever, only in the room she had been so long accustomed 
 to consider her own. Irreverent Co-Eds were wont to 
 refer to that as the " Lair," and sometimes, it must be 
 owned, to the occupant herself by the same quadliteral 
 with its vowels reversed. The young are prone to at 
 tribute to their monitors unseemly traits, to which they 
 themselves would doubtless plead not guilty. 
 
 Then Duggan had been called into conference. The 
 matron was the de jure head of Clifton Hall, Miss Hin 
 ton, by reason of an aggressive personality and many 
 years of service, the de facto. The Trustees looked to 
 the former for the maintenance of proper discipline in 
 Hall : the President s dependence was on the latter. The 
 matron was affable: the maiden austere. By their 
 exuberant flock, and in spite of her duties, the matron 
 was beloved: the maiden, in spite of her many virtues, 
 belittled, if not bedeviled. And here came delicious and 
 not-to-be-neglected opportunity. 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 He would be an unwise man who would imagine that a 
 bevy of bright-eyed Western girls could be blinded to 
 the fact that there was something odd in the sudden ex 
 change of quarters between Miss Hinton and Miss Hoyt. 
 Once sure of the fact, they were soon as sure of the cause, 
 and acted accordingly. 
 
 Now, the President had told Duggan to have two stout 
 men to aid him. He had settled in his own mind on the 
 identity of the night prowler, and was now bent on prov 
 ing his point. The girls of Clifton, sympathizing natur 
 ally with the sighing lover who would come serenading 
 under his lady s window, could not be induced to look 
 upon the improper proceeding in the proper light. There 
 were dozens of eager, adventurous young spirits among 
 their chums and classmates of the battalion, and not a 
 few even among the supposedly more staid young men of 
 the senior and junior classes. There were hurried, merry, 
 mischievous conferences about the halls and corridors of 
 the college buildings. There were plots and projects un 
 speakable. Not one of their number would do anything 
 to hurt old Duggan. Not one of their number could resist 
 the temptation, however, to have fun with him, especially 
 if in so doing they could exasperate Miss Hinton. Given 
 these conditions, anyone who knows anything of college 
 boys and college girls needs no enlargement on the fact 
 that Duggan was having some novel and strange experi 
 ences. Moreover, Miss Hinton was having what our 
 latter-day saints, college girls of this decade, would prob- 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 253 
 
 ably term the " time of her life." Never before had she 
 known what it was to have a man coming sighing or sing 
 ing under her window. Now, she had more than either 
 she or Duggan could begin to account for. Where the 
 President had prepared her to look for one and to mark 
 him well, she looked upon one after another whom she 
 couldn t mark at all, whom Duggan and his deputies 
 chased in vain, who led the swearing old Celt a lively 
 dance in the darkness, and when at last a capture was 
 made it turned out to be a vivacious Sophomore who 
 swore he hadn t been nearer the Hall than the avenue 
 gate. Then sounds of half-suppressed giggling at neigh 
 boring windows admonished Miss Hinton that the girls 
 were making game of her. Then, oh, gruesome sight! 
 the straw-stuffed effigy of a man was lowered from a cor 
 nice of Clifton Hall just at dawn of a frosty morning and 
 hung suspended in full view, close to the casement of " my 
 lady s chamber," the Lair, yet not so close as at that 
 hour to attract attention from within. And the first thing 
 Miss Hinton knew of it was when the bell was sounding 
 \for morning prayers and there was a gale of delighted 
 /whisperings and bubbling merriment in the corridors and 
 a banging of windows, and then sympathetic, yet mascu 
 line, shouts below. Soldier students on the way to the 
 early the special drill had caught sight of the supposed 
 suicide, and their amaze was prodigious in view of the 
 fact that half their number, perhaps, were particeps crim- 
 inis. A knock at the door and a demure voice calling 
 
254 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Miss Hinton gave the first startling intimation of " A man 
 at your window ! " 
 
 That day it began to dawn on the President and Miss 
 Hinton that what had begun in mystery was drifting into 
 broad burlesque. Duggan and the dogs of war were 
 called off and, barring the imprint of slender, slippered 
 feet, and many of these, in a dusty garret about the scuttle 
 stairs, and one find by Duggan close to the west front of 
 Clifton Hall, nothing was developed that threw any light 
 on the affair. Even that find Duggan kept to himself 
 as much as twelve hours until he could see Captain Fane. 
 It was a stone, but little bigger than a thimble, to which 
 was attached half a yard of fine fish line, at the end of 
 which was a tiny roll of stiff paper, which Duggan had 
 opened. A few words were penciled on the inside : 
 
 He has been here and I ve got to go. Drop every cent you 
 can spare. 
 
 The rest was a clipping from a late Chicago paper7 
 
 ARMY OFFICER MISSING 
 
 Officials at Division Headquarters, while maintaining the 
 utmost secrecy and professing to feel no alarm, are still unable 
 to account for Major J. E. Piggott, who has been missing from 
 his lodgings as much as ten days. The major came to Chicago 
 on extended leave from Fort Colville in the far Northwest. 
 He did not, as is customary, report his arrival at General Sheri 
 dan s Headquarters, but was recognized on the street by Police 
 Officer Carney, a discharged soldier who had known him in 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 255 
 
 Arizona, and who gave important information when, a day or 
 two later, it transpired that Butler & Schack, the well-known 
 lawyers, were in search of him and had been persistent in their 
 inquiries at Headquarters. It is learned from his landlady, an 
 estimable widow who owns the premises No. 107 Seneca Street, 
 North Side, that the major left suddenly and in evident haste, 
 taking only a valise with him; that several gentlemen had 
 called several times to see him, and that after he had been 
 gone three days or so officers came from General Sheridan 
 and searched his room. Fears are entertained that the major 
 has taken his own life, as Mr. Butler, of the firm, admits that 
 they were acting for his wife to whom the Courts had awarded 
 and ordered paid the sum of two hundred dollars a month, 
 and the major had long been in default. 
 
 The military authorities have taken charge of his room and 
 belongings, and further information is refused. Enough is 
 known, however, to warrant the assertion that, should he not 
 have made way with himself, he must face court-martial when 
 he comes to the surface again. Officers at Headquarters profess 
 to know where he went from here, scoff at the theory of suicide 
 and say that he will turn up again in the near future. Mean 
 time developments are awaited with interest. 
 
 This clipping did honest Duggan lay, with the sling 
 and the stone, before Captain Fane early in the morning 
 after he found them, half covered by dry leaves, under 
 neath the window that had been Miss Hoyt s, and Duggan 
 was puzzled at the young officer s reception thereof. He 
 looked sharply up at the Irishman. " Why do you give 
 me this ? " said he. " I have had seen it before." 
 
 " I didn t know that, sir. I thought perhaps you could 
 
256 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 understand it, sir/ said Duggan civilly, " especially as 
 -that dom prowler that wasn t the one they expected to 
 find might have dropped it. You see what he s written." 
 
 Fane had not seen what he had written, but eagerly 
 took the paper scrawl ; stared at it ; studied it ; then, with 
 utter and undisguised astonishment, accosted the janitor. 
 
 " Do you mean these were done up together, and so 
 found, under Miss Hoyt s window?" 
 
 " Exactly so, sir," said Duggan. " I was takin them 
 to the President, sir, but I thought perhaps as an army 
 man was mentioned you d like to know about it, and then, 
 
 perhaps " And Duggan gulped, and halted lamely. 
 
 He hated to go near the President of late. The ascetic 
 scholar had been growing irascible he had always been 
 unsympathetic in manner and Duggan found it cheaper 
 to keep out of the President s way. If he had to see the 
 Doctor the more he could tell about this find the less 
 the Doctor would have to scold. For a moment Fane s 
 face was pale and perplexed. Then he looked the old 
 Irishman straight in the eyes. 
 
 " You know nothing more of this, on your word, 
 Duggan?" 
 
 " On my wurrud, sir," said Duggan. 
 
 " And you have no idea no suspicion who it was that 
 has been night prowling there at the Hall? " 
 
 Duggan shifted a foot and faltered, uneasily. " Among 
 the byes, sir? " he asked. " I don t think it was them 
 leastwise at first." 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 257 
 
 " Then what have you seen ? What have you heard ? 
 Who is suspected ? " 
 
 " God knows, sir barrin the President 11 tell ye. It s 
 not fur the likes o me." And in so saying Duggan man 
 aged to open Fane s eyes to the nature of the confidential 
 instructions he had received and to the probable cause of 
 the enlistment of the two " bulldogs." Fane stood aghast 
 and amazed, but he would ask nothing further of the 
 man. He now would seek the master. 
 
 It was then barely eight o clock, and by nine, ordinarily, 
 special drill was over and the President was to be found 
 at chapel. Sharp at the hour Fane dismissed his squads 
 and started for the avenue. It was his half-defined pur 
 pose to meet the Doctor as he came forth from the brief 
 service with which it was the custom to begin the busy 
 hours of the collegiate day. It was but a third of a mile 
 from the barnlike old gymnasium to the beautiful gothic 
 chapel, and Fane went at speed, yet was surprised to find 
 students and teachers coming away from the stately en 
 trance full ten minutes before the usual time. " Is the 
 President there? " he asked a junior whom he chanced to 
 know, and the reply was still more of a surprise. The 
 President had come and gone without the heart to heart, 
 ten-minute talk with which he so often favored his classes. 
 " He came sir ; asked Professor Lyman to read prayers, 
 and almost immediately drove away. Professor Beer- 
 bohm was with him in a carriage." 
 
 Five minutes later, and as Fane hurried on homeward, 
 
258 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 his mind a whirl of conflicting thought and emotion, he 
 saw his sister coming toward him through the bare- 
 limbed, desolate grove, the sister who had surprised him 
 in the dead hours of the night by her sudden appearance 
 at his room, the sister whose eyes inquired, though her 
 lips would not, the use to which he had evidently put his 
 revolver. But, though her eyes asked and her tongue 
 refrained he had offered no explanation; he had chided 
 her for being up at such an hour ; he had resented it that 
 she seemed to be keeping watch on him ; he had, not too 
 gently, too kindly, told her he knew just why there had 
 been a caller at his window ; he had in going simply antici 
 pated what that caller had probably to tell. It was one of 
 his own trusted officers, he said, who, with others, had 
 agreed to keep track of a certain lawless element and give 
 him warning of suspicious actions, looking to genuine 
 depredations at the " gym." He had received earlier 
 warning and had gone. He would tell her more about it 
 when he knew more, and now wished to snatch what sleep 
 he could before the coming of the day. She had left him 
 and gone her way, uncomplaining, unrebuking, for she 
 was still tortured by the memory of her one act of spying. 
 She could not risk offending Ron, and yet she left him 
 with vague distress, with dissatisfaction, even dread, eat 
 ing at her heart, and now nearly an hour before her own 
 class work began this day she was hurrying forth to find 
 him that she might tell him of something new, something 
 alarming, and she met him almost at the very spot where 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 259 
 
 she and he had seen that other meeting, that night con 
 ference that ended so suddenly and strangely, that meet 
 ing to which never since had he even remotely referred. 
 
 She saw how pale and grave and stern he looked, and 
 knew with her keen intuition that there was some new 
 trouble, and that what she had to tell would only add to it, 
 but her tidings were of such a nature she felt that Ron 
 must know at once and so at once she began, looking with 
 such depth of love and anxiety into his careworn face : 
 
 " Ron, I have hurried to meet you and tell you before 
 you could get home. Such a strange thing! I don t 
 know what to do or think of it, but soon after you went 
 up to drill this morning, before I was dressed, I heard 
 Dr. Parsons s voice at the door. He asked for Mrs. 
 Jamieson and she was only just up, and he took her into 
 the little side yard right under my window, almost under 
 yours, and there I couldn t help hearing, he was talk 
 ing, questioning, about you. She told me everything 
 later, for I frankly told her I had heard the first part of 
 their talk. He asked her what hour you went out, what 
 hour you came home last night, whether anyone came for 
 you, and how late your light was burning. She said she 
 never saw him so excited, so insistent. She said he asked 
 if any letters had been brought to her for you, or any 
 messages left, and whether you ever had a boat and went 
 out on the lake at night. He asked her if she saw you 
 last night, and how you were dressed. He acted, she said, 
 like he wanted to go in and search the room and ward- 
 
260 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 robe, and Mrs. Jamieson couldn t listen to that. Ron, 
 what does it all mean ? " 
 
 And here, in spite of her effort, poor, brave, loyal, lov 
 ing, yet sorely troubled Jane felt the sobs rising uncon 
 trollably, and he saw it and should have sought to soothe 
 and comfort, but his heart was raging now. Between 
 what he had seen for himself, what he had heard from 
 certain of his sturdy followers in the battalion, what he 
 had dragged from poor, bedeviled Duggan, and what 
 Jane was telling him, his soul was up in arms, in a fury 
 of wrath against this strange, austere, ice-hearted man, 
 this arch spy and scandal brewer, for so in his blind rage 
 the venerable scholar seemed to this hot-blooded young 
 soldier. 
 
 For the moment Fane could only think of the indignity 
 to which he was subjected, believing it all an outcome of 
 the recent demonstrations at Clifton Hall, and never 
 dreaming, as poor Jane was dreaming, of the possibility 
 of something far more dread, some-thing that those pow 
 der-blackened fingers had d to her hours before, 
 something that in his intense pursuit of another cine he 
 had never stopped to consider. But it was destined to 
 confront him, and with crushing force. 
 
 "Which way did he go?" was the rjnestion that came 
 !y from his lips. " Fve been hunting for him. I 
 o find him." 
 
 "Oli, Konald, i) / .not in your i 
 
 Wait ! Come back with me and let me tell you what you 
 
T11K MA.KW MKKTS HIS FATK 
 
 wouldn t listen to last night I heard he had -one to 
 town he and Professor Beerbohm, Von can t see him 
 now, and yon should know what 1 know before von see 
 
 hini at all. Tome with me, 1 want to show you^ And 
 so she led him and held him. listening, dull and indifferent 
 at first, then in suddenly aroused and vehement interest, 
 for now at last he heard of the adjutant s call, drummed 
 on his window pane, a call he knew was unknown to 
 nine out of ten of his pupils and probably unfamiliar to 
 
 all. 
 
 Now he heard of the repeated signals, the repealed 
 
 appearance of the shadow, and knew well before Jane 
 
 had finished that this was no one of his battalion boys, 
 
 this was nothing like the signal agreed upon between him 
 
 and certain oi his " trusties "student officers who were 
 
 determined to get at the bottom of the mystery of that 
 
 night assault, and to protect their young commander and 
 
 their college property from future harm. Then, as Jane 
 
 went on with her description and showed him where the 
 
 shape had appeared in front oi the Wfag Md whew H had 
 
 later stood at the coping of the well, he took to studying 
 
 t.iiut footprints on the trampled turf at the rear of the 
 
 wing, for the early frosts had hardened the pathway ; and 
 
 then, drawing him away, she led him 10 her own room. 
 
 and from the windows pointed to llu ihc 
 
 Island, to the sun-glinting windows of the Roost, and 
 
 showed him the very easement from whence had sti earned 
 
 that signal light, that five-second Hash that seemed to 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 peal direct to her window and to her, and then Fane s 
 excitement became marked and almost uncontrollable. 
 
 And even as he stood there, thrilling with the realiza 
 tion of a new and most important discovery, and longing 
 for Hazlett and a consultation, there came a tap at the 
 door a servant with a telegram, which he tore open and 
 read: 
 
 New developments. Important. Meet me 4:40 to-day. 
 Central. (Signed) HAZLETT. 
 
 He handed it mechanically to Jane, who, gazing from 
 the window, this time toward the street, had laid her hand 
 upon his arm. Three or four passers-by had stopped in 
 front of the next house and were looking curiously back. 
 Two men, under the trees across the unpaved street, had 
 also halted and were standing at gaze. A man, glancing 
 hurriedly up at the window as he passed, strode on 
 through the little croquet ground toward the side door of 
 the wing. A vehicle of some kind had drawn up in front 
 of the house, the heads of the horses just visible from her 
 casement. Another vehicle, half open, reined in at the 
 opposite curb. It was the sight of this that led her to 
 touch his arm. The driver was glancing back. The oc 
 cupants, two in number, were peeping round the edge of 
 the side curtain of the back seat, and Jane knew the evil 
 face of the neannost at a glance. It was Stetson, senior. 
 The other, dodging back at sight of her, was the son. 
 
 Then Mrs. Jamieson s voice, and footsteps that were not 
 
THE MAJOR MEETS HIS FATE 263 
 
 Mrs. Jamieson s, but those of heavy men, were heard on 
 the stairs, and a nameless terror seized the sister s heart, 
 for in another moment a silver star gleamed at the door 
 way, the lapel of a coat thrown back purposely to permit 
 of its display. The servant-maid recoiled, trembling with 
 mingled embarrassment and fright, and two men, stran 
 gers, entered. The foremost held a folded paper in his 
 hand, and stepped straight to the young officer s side : 
 
 " Sorry, sir, but this is our warrant and we must trouble 
 you to come with us," he civilly said. 
 
 " And why ? " asked Fane, his face as white as the star. 
 
 " I ve been a soldier myself, sir, and I shouldn t say 
 anything if I was you, but Major Piggott was found on 
 the shore this morning shot, he s probably dead by this 
 time." 
 
 And then they had to turn to Jane, who had fallen 
 senseless. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THERE was no Fane to meet Captain Hazlett as 
 he stepped from the evening train. The plat 
 form was filled with people ; the newsboys, yelp 
 ing like coyotes, were darting to and fro. "All about 
 the murdurr! " was the incessant cry. The Evening Star 
 was selling at a premium, and a stranger, a man in civil 
 ian dress, touched the captain on the sleeve and bade him 
 step one side. 
 
 " We ve found the major, sir," he said, " more dead 
 than alive, and they ve arrested Captain Fane." 
 
 Hazlett s heart stood still. Had he come then all too 
 late? Had his warnings been ignored his counsel all 
 vain? Knowing the past, knowing the men, knowing a 
 motive, was the issue to be wondered at ? " Take me to 
 him," was all he said, and entering the hack the two were 
 driven away. 
 
 The evening was dark and dull. The wind was whirl 
 ing spiteful little dust clouds about the streets. Here and 
 there, at the corners and about the doorways of shops and 
 saloons, groups of men and boys were gathered, their 
 numbers increasing somewhat as the hack drew nearer 
 to the county buildings, the court house and the jail 
 
"DARE S THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN" 265 
 
 Some kind of investigation had already been taking place. 
 Sheriff s officials were bustling about the corridors and 
 portico. Students, in battalion uniform or civilian dress 
 were grouped, observant and almost silent, about the 
 walks and the wide piazza. A carriage containing two 
 college officials had just driven away as Hazlett s hack 
 rolled up to the curb. Some few students saluted their 
 vanishing superiors, but most of them withdrew no hand 
 from the roomy pockets. They gazed after them with 
 gloomy eyes. The moment Captain Hazlett stepped to 
 the sidewalk the groups began to close in, and an under- 
 sheriff came forward, inquired his name and handed him 
 a dispatch. It was from Headquarters in Chicago. The 
 news had reached the commanding general just after 
 Hazlett left his office. He was enjoined to see Major 
 Piggott as speedily as the hospital authorities would per 
 mit, for General Sheridan had been told there was a 
 chance for life. Hazlett asked first to see Fane, and was 
 admitted to an inner room where the young officer was 
 for the present secluded, awaiting report of the surgeons 
 in care of the stricken man. Hazlett s face was grave, 
 yet alight with relief and confidence as he came forth ten 
 minutes later. Professor Sharpe sprang forward and 
 took him by the hand : 
 
 " They would not admit us," said he, " but Lorimer and 
 I refuse to credit the story, and we want him and want 
 you to know it. Of course, if there d been a a 
 fight ?" he paused suggestively. 
 
266 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 " There hasn t been a fight," said Hazlett bluntly, " and 
 Ronald Fane is no more capable of shooting down a fel 
 low man in cold blood than you are of stealing." 
 
 " It s it s the hot blood we feared, captain," answered 
 Sharpe, in low tone. " He has had one thing after another 
 to exasperate him of late, and there might have been 
 taunt insult. We hear they have long been enemies. 
 The story is all over town now." 
 
 " Drive with me to the hospital, will you ? " asked Haz 
 lett. " I must get there at once," and he bundled them in, 
 Sharpe and Lorimer both. " Now, tell me all you can," 
 he said, as swiftly they drove away. 
 
 And so, in part at least, driving to and returning from 
 the mile away retreat where the unconscious victim lay 
 hovering still twixt life and death, the men of books and 
 learning told the man of action their tale of trouble. A 
 strange web indeed of strong, though circumstantial, evi 
 dence was that they spread before their hearer, who bowed 
 his head in silent, sorrowful acceptance, as point after 
 point was made ; yet, when all was said and done, turned 
 sturdily to the main issue and stood by his original ver 
 dict. " I still believe it can all be explained," said he. " I 
 still hold him innocent." 
 
 Briefly, their stories were brought down to this : Pro 
 fessor Beerbohm was the first to direct suspicion to Fane, 
 directing it even before the deed. Beerbohm had had 
 to make his peace with the President for that visit to the 
 Stetsons. Beerbohm had confided to the President that 
 
"DARK S THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN" 267 
 
 the stranger was a Major Piggott, a near relative of the 
 man they knew as Stetson. Piggott had come here to see 
 his long lost kinsman, and yet had had to ask that it be 
 kept a secret, because, as he now found, Lieutenant Fane 
 was at the college. Lieutenant Fane had served under 
 his command in Arizona, and Lieutenant Fane, smarting 
 under deserved censure for his misbehavior on campaign, 
 had sworn to get even with Major Piggott; had even 
 threatened his life. Fane s friends in the army had done 
 their best to get Piggott into trouble, but Piggott had been 
 sustained by the War Department and others in authority. 
 Fane s friends were forced to give up the fight, but Fane 
 swore he would follow it to the bitter end and would 
 " square " sooner or later with the major if it cost him 
 his commission. It was arranged that Stetson was to 
 take good care of the major during his brief stay, and 
 every precaution should be observed to keep Fane in 
 ignorance of the major s presence ; not, of course, on the 
 major s account, but that of the lieutenant, who was noto 
 riously rash, hot-headed and " might do something to 
 bring scandal or disgrace upon the army and the college," 
 " as indeed," said Beerbohm, " we know he has narrowly 
 escaped doing on several occasions here." 
 
 Then, said Beerbohm, Captain Hazlett had come with 
 his ill-advised inquiries (Hazlett, who had been ordered 
 by General Sheridan to go to Groveton and see if the 
 missing officer had been there, because letters found in 
 Piggott s room came from Groveton and nowhere else), 
 
268 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and Beerbohm reasoned that Captain Hazlett had prob 
 ably told Mr. Fane of his suspicions. Fane was then 
 seen late at night reconnoitering the Stetson premises and 
 prowling about the college grounds. Beerbohm told all 
 this to the President, and got the President worked up. 
 Then came Duggan with his story and stone, and the 
 clipping from the Chicago Carbuncle, and finally the 
 gruesome discovery of Major Piggott s person, " more 
 dead than alive," said the two college workmen who found 
 it, close to Cedar Point and not ten feet from the water s 
 edge. Then the President who had been investigating 
 Fane s night comings and goings, told his tale to the civil 
 officials. Mr. Stetson, who had suddenly reappeared from 
 no one knew where, was called into conference ; two more 
 witnesses were examined, and the warrant was issued 
 without delay. 
 
 The President s story, of course, neither Sharpe, Haz 
 lett nor Lorimer could expect as yet to hear. Duggan s 
 story they knew. It was through the police they had 
 heard of the strange tale of two employees of the college 
 who were later examined. One of them had been the 
 first to see the half-hiddon and unconscious form that 
 very morning. The other had heard a vehement alterca 
 tion late the previous night. The latter s story had been 
 dragged out of him " bit by bit," said the officials, for he 
 stood self-convicted of a breach of college regulations 
 that might cost him his place. He was custodian at the 
 farm stable. Students had once or twice made midnight 
 
"DARK S THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN" 269 
 
 raids ; had led away certain mules and a prehistoric don 
 key, hitching the former to the gate post of a distinguished 
 scientist and stabling the latter at Beerbohm s doorstep. 
 The professors thus complimented saw no humor in this 
 unhallowed and suggestive invasion of their premises 
 and prerogatives. Scullin, the stable man, was bidden 
 thereafter to remain all night at his charge, and the alter 
 cation he heard after one o clock at night occurred away 
 over on the lake shore near Cedar Point. Scullin had been 
 to town and, returning, came suddenly round a rocky cliff 
 and heard these words in furious tone : " You did me the 
 meanest, most damnable wrong you did your best to 
 ruin me, and I swore by God that I d And then on 
 
 a sudden someone said " Hush ! " There was an instant 
 scattering; a rowboat shot away from the shore; some 
 body scurried into the bushes ; someone else, a burly man, 
 apparently lame or rheumatic or crippled, " kind o stag 
 gered against a tree and leaned on a little rustic bench." 
 Scullin saw just enough of him in the darkness to feel 
 more than sure it was the man found at seven o clock, 
 shot and senseless. Scullin said he half stopped and just 
 asked if there was any trouble, and the stranger said not 
 to bother, he had a friend in the boat and he d get along 
 all right. And so Scullin went on and, not ten minutes 
 later, about as he reached home, he heard a shot. He 
 thought perhaps there were two, but he couldn t be sure, 
 and that was all he knew about what happened as he was 
 coming home. 
 
270 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 But the night watchman had said Scullin was there at 
 the stables at n 115, so the question was asked, What time 
 did Scullin go in town? A little before twelve. Which 
 way? Around by the lake around the way he came 
 home; he couldn t go through the college grounds with 
 out being seen by somebody. Then came the question, 
 Did Scullin see anybody on his way to town, if so, where ? 
 Scullin stumbled a bit and spoke with obvious distress. 
 Well, it was too dark to see plain, but he heard someone 
 coming, coming swiftly, along the lakeside path about 
 forty rods town side of Cedar Point, and so Scullin hid in 
 the shrubbery until the man went by. Could he see him 
 then? Well, not distinctly, but he passed between Scullin 
 and the still surface of the lake, and Scullin couldn t help 
 seeing the outline of the figure, and he knew the walk 
 everybody about the college knew that walk by this time 
 it was Captain Fane. 
 
 Hazlett had been admitted to the bedside of the 
 wounded man and recognized him at a glance. Piggott 
 was unconscious still and moaning at times, and the sur 
 geons were looking puzzled. The major s danger was 
 great they feared, and the gunshot wound was enough, 
 if not more than enough, to bring sudden end to his 
 earthly career. " Yet," said one of the medical men to 
 Hazlett, " there are others." The major had been struck 
 on the head with a blunt instrument. There were bruises, 
 severe ones, on the body, but, said the doctor, " they 
 look a week old," and Hazlett made instant note of it. 
 
"DARK S THE HOUR BEFORE DAWN" 
 
 Once again they visited the quiet side street where the 
 little army family made their humble home, and Hazlett 
 found them in sorry plight. . Mrs. Fane was moaning 
 and prostrate, Clare and her clergyman were minister 
 ing to her as best they could, and Clare was inveighing 
 against Jane, ordinarily the most helpful one of the 
 household, now utterly useless. Hazlett had theories of 
 his own as to this, and asked if it were possible to see her. 
 He bore a message from Ronald, so Clare went to ask, 
 and presently called him aloft, and poor Jane, red-eyed 
 and disheveled, appeared at her doorway, and Hazlett 
 was amazed at her prostration. He strove to reassure 
 her. He gave her Ronald s brave words of cheer and 
 encouragement, and, so far from taking heart, she 
 seemed to cower and shrink and weep afresh. " Would 
 Major Piggott die? " was the one question uppermost in 
 her mind. If so if so, what would be Ronald s fate? 
 It was all so unlike what Hazlett had been told of Jane 
 all so utterly unlike what he expected of her, that he 
 came away distressed and troubled, unable to account 
 for her utter hoplelessness, her lack of faith. It even 
 angered him a bit against her, he knew not why. 
 
 Then came the drive back to the court house, and the 
 final words with Sharpe and Lorimer. Then another 
 brief conference with Fane, who was now very quiet 
 and self-controlled. There were two things Hazlett yet 
 desired an interview with the President, and another 
 with Mr. Stetson, The latter had been at the hospital, 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 not in the patient s room, " for fear of disturbing him/ 
 he said, but with the surgeons a few minutes to make 
 most anxious and affectionate inquiries and to urge that 
 nothing be left undone for his kinsman. But Mr. Stet 
 son declined to see Mr. Hazlett or to hold converse with 
 anybody representing Mr. Hazlett. The district attor 
 ney and other State officials, he said, had sealed his lips. 
 The President was not at home had gone round to Pro 
 fessor Sharpe s, and the evening was far gone when 
 Hazlett, following, trailed him thither. The President 
 was as responsive as an icicle, and chiefly concerned 
 with the effect all this must have on the good name of the 
 college. He evidently wished to confer further with 
 Sharpe, and wished Hazlett to go with his mission all 
 unfulfilled. It was while Hazlett was still pleading the 
 cause of his friend that a light footfall was heard on the 
 piazza without, and Sharpe, excusing himself, went to 
 the door. Both gentlemen in the parlor heard the words 
 with which this late arrival greeted the master of the 
 house. 
 
 " John, how can I reach Captain Hazlett ? She wants 
 to see him." 
 
 It was Mrs. Sharpe, who for reasons of her own, had 
 hastened to Miss Hoyt long hours before, had returned 
 to her during the early evening, and now, after ten 
 o clock, had come hurrying homeward with this inquiry. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE NIGHT OF FLAME 
 
 A OTHER day and Mrs. Hazlett, summoned by 
 wire, had arrived at Groveton and joined her 
 husband, who had need of her. It seems that 
 objection had been made to Captain Hazlett s visiting at 
 Clifton Hall, and Miss Hoyt was not yet well enough to 
 come forth. Indeed, Miss Hoyt had had a relapse ; was 
 decidedly worse; had been almost prostrated, like Miss 
 Fane, when the news of this new calamity was, with possi 
 bly intentional abruptness, made known to her. And it 
 was in this strange manner and under these sad and 
 solemn circumstances that Fane s gentle friend of 
 Arizona days came again into the orbit of his life, and 
 saw with her own eyes and heard with her own ears 
 the four women of whom he had said so much when the 
 year, now so near its closing, was still young and filled 
 with hope and pride and rejoicing. Ah, how many 
 hours had he spent in telling her of the lady mother, and 
 handsome Clare, and helpful, home-loving, level-headed 
 Jane ! How many hours, later, had he spent in telling 
 ,of Ethel Hoyt, his heroine, his fervent admiration! Do 
 the best of women, I wonder, often find a fellow s sister 
 quite as charming as he pictured her ? Do they ever find 
 
 273 
 
274 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 his sweetheart sweet as he had painted? Looking back 
 upon the social blunders of some three score years, a man 
 of many experiences once said : " If you want your wife 
 to like your kindred, or your kin to like your wife, don t 
 let either party know it." 
 
 A wise little woman was Mrs. Hazlett, prepared in no 
 small degree for disenchantment. Otherwise she would 
 have found it difficult to recognize in the complaining, 
 querulous, elderly valetudinarian the stately leader of gar 
 rison society as Roland had described his mother. Clare 
 came nearer to the mark set by her brother, for Clare was 
 blooming in the sunshine of the young rector s devotions, 
 and reveling in the joy of being envied by so many maid 
 ens of the parish. Even the calamity that had befallen 
 the family in Ronald s arrest, and the chain of circum 
 stantial evidence against him, had not served to cast her 
 down. If Tremaine, in his secret heart, shared the gen 
 erally expressed belief in Ronald s guilt he had the sacer 
 dotal wit to hide it. Clare, in her exuberant personality, 
 towered, defiant of public opinion. It was in plain, prag 
 matical Jane that Mrs. Hazlett found her deepest disap 
 pointment and her inexplicable mystery. Jane, who by 
 all Ronald s accounts should have been the brave, help 
 ful, resourceful daughter and sister Jane, who should 
 have been his dauntless champion Jane, whom she 
 looked to find stanch, strong and true Jane proved to 
 be the pessimist and the despairing. Jane, said Mrs. Haz 
 lett to her own sacred self, as we found long afterwards 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 275 
 
 Jane seemed to have made up her mind that nothing on 
 earth could save Ronald, and that it was her duty to pre 
 pare him, his mother and his friends to face the inevita 
 ble. It is ofttimes our own kindred who are most ready 
 to believe the worst. But then, who on earth had seen 
 as much as Jane had seen? Who began to know what 
 Jane knew? 
 
 It was straight from a doleful hour with these, his next 
 of kin, that Mrs. Hazlett went in search of the girl whom 
 Ronald Fane had fairly owned he loved, and yet had 
 ceased to woo. Perhaps it was because she had found his 
 kindred so despondent and inert that the little army-bred 
 woman was taken by surprise in the interview that fol 
 lowed. Hazlett, persona in grata to the President and cer 
 tain of his following in the faculty, could without offense 
 be declined as a visitor to an inmate of Clifton Hall, but 
 even the President could see no way to deny the captain s 
 wife. Beerbohm, it is true, suggested that either the 
 matron or mayhap the amazonian Miss Hinton should be 
 present at the meeting, but the matron promptly begged 
 to be excused, Miss Hinton as promptly placed herself at 
 the service of the college, and Miss Hoyt as promptly 
 declined. She had asked to see Captain Hazlett and, 
 failing in that, had determined to receive Mrs. Hazlett 
 personally. If this was contrary to college tenets and tra 
 ditions, said Miss Hoyt, she tendered her resignation on 
 the spot, and just as soon as her physician would per 
 mitforty-eight hours at the most she would move to 
 
276 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 other quarters. From a reserved, reticent, almost silent 
 young woman Miss Hoyt had developed suddenly into a 
 maid-of-war, possessed of feverish energy and deter 
 mined purpose. The President, in the interests of the 
 college, and belief that Miss Hoyt knew much that she had 
 not told, in the company of the matron and Miss Hinton 
 had called upon her as she reclined upon the sofa in the 
 matron s own parlor. It was contrary to the physician s 
 wishes, but, when the President had a manifest duty to 
 perform, what were physicians injunctions to him? Col 
 lege tradition had it that he once broke in upon family 
 prayers at the dean s and called that venerable exalter 
 from his knees, and his petition to the Throne of Grace, 
 to tell him the Trustees had turned down a desired appro 
 priation, and that he must be up and at them without an 
 hour s delay, then left without apology to either the 
 Almighty or the interrupted. The President desired Miss 
 Hoyt to examine the tethered scroll picked up by Duggan 
 underneath her window, and to tell him the name of the 
 w r riter. Miss Hoyt examined as desired, and declined. 
 The President then required her to say whether or no she 
 did not know it was written by Mr. er Captain Fane, 
 albeit in a disguised hand, and Miss Hoyt, to his per 
 plexity, had replied forthwith and with unlooked-for spirit 
 that that question at least, despite its offensive character, 
 she could and would answer, and then daringly added, 
 " purely out of regard for Captain Fane." Her answer 
 was that she knew he was not the writer. The President 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 277 
 
 was staggered at such unfeminine contumacy, but that 
 answer, and that alone, had to suffice. Miss Hoyt declined 
 further conference. The President left the Hall with no 
 more information than when he came, and yet left it no 
 little wiser. 
 
 Miss Hoyt s color, temper and temperature were, all 
 three, some degrees above normal when Mrs. Hazlett was 
 announced, and, though these individual weather indica 
 tions were all for storm, the matron urged postponement 
 of the interview to unheeding ears. Miss Hoyt would 
 see Mrs. Hazlett at once, and would see her alone. Mrs. 
 Hazlett, thinking to meet a semi-camphorated invalid, 
 found a fuming young woman, with flaming cheeks and 
 blazing eyes, up and pacing the Persian rug like a caged 
 and taunted tigress. Mrs. Hazlett was fairly startled at 
 her vehemence, and at her beauty. But the girl came 
 straight forward with frankly outstretched and burning 
 hands. " You are the one woman I need to see," the 
 matron heard her say, as she retired and closed the door 
 and left them to an interview that was destined to be 
 momentous. 
 
 Not fifteen minutes did Mrs. Hazlett remain. From 
 the public parlor across the hallway the matron saw her 
 come forth; saw her turn; step once more across the 
 threshold ; take Ethel Hoyt in her arms and kiss her twice, 
 thrice; then with brimming eyes come tripping in to 
 say a word of thanks before going. Even in her manifest 
 haste and excitement, in something that looked like sup- 
 
278 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 pressed, yet fervent, joy, Mrs. Hazlett could not forget 
 that courtesy. Her handclasp was frank and cordial, her 
 words sincere, as she bade the matron adieu and besought 
 her permission to see Miss Hoyt later in the afternoon 
 or evening when she " probably would have much to tell 
 her." Then the waiting carriage whirled her away from 
 the front of a stately fagade, almost every window of 
 which was adorned with one or more alert and wondering 
 co-educational faces, and one of the most rejoicing women 
 in all the wide West, even though weighted with a pro 
 found secret she could not yet communicate to another 
 soul, was speedily restored to the arms of a soldier hus 
 band whose anxious heart bounded instantly with new 
 born hope at sight of her radiant eyes. 
 
 " Be patient and hopeful," Hazlett had said to Fane but 
 an hour or two before, when both patience and hope 
 seemed wearing out under the burden of accumulated 
 ills, and now Hazlett had to taste his own medicine, and 
 be patient, for Evelyn, his wife, was pledged to silence 
 that even he could not break. 
 
 That night was one not soon forgotten in the annals of 
 placid, sleepy Groveton. Somewhere toward nine a 
 messenger went at speed to the Stetson house to say that 
 Major Piggott was sinking fast and might not live till 
 dawn. Stetson, senior, had been at the hospital earlier 
 in the day, anxious and assiduous, as became a near and 
 affectionate relative, and the doctors then looked very 
 grave, yet bade him hope. Stetson, junior,, had been sent 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 279 
 
 that morning " to spend a few days with friends at a 
 farm " some dozen miles removed from the scenes of 
 recent turmoil and violence, where, added the fond parent, 
 it seemed impossible for him to regain his accustomed 
 strength. The family physician (Dr. Gilhooley of the 
 Flats) had urged this step, though the son loudly and 
 dutifully declared his intention of standing by his father 
 in all his troubles. In view of later developments, how 
 ever, these seemed but mock heroics. The messenger 
 found only a servant at home, and one who knew not, she 
 said, what had become of Mr. Stetson. He never left 
 word where he was going. The messenger had been told 
 to bring Mr. Stetson back with him. The patient had 
 been muttering in his semi-delirious state, and had said 
 some things neither nurse nor doctor could quite under 
 stand. 
 
 The messenger came back without his man, only to 
 be sent forth a second time with injunctions to find him 
 without fail. The doctor in charge also notified the dis 
 trict attorney and certain officials at the county jail. It 
 was suggested that possibly they should bring Captain 
 Fane to the sufferer s bedside. Thrice the sinking man 
 had spoken that young officer s name. The sheriff wished 
 to know whether there was the least hope of return to 
 consciousness or reason whether the physicians con 
 sidered an ante-mortem statement possible and before 
 the sheriff could be summoned again an ante-mortem 
 statement of any description became an impossibility. 
 
280 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Practically alone, among strangers, the spirit of the 
 friendless officer had taken its flight. Without having 
 regained consciousness, Major Piggott had passed away. 
 As " the Senator " boomed forth the hour of twelve, 
 Ronald Fane, separated in turn from his own kith and 
 kin, stood behind the bars accused of, if not yet officially 
 arraigned for, willful murder. 
 
 But at twelve o clock, though the streets and saloons 
 had been scoured for Stetson, the quest had been all in 
 vain. It was twelve and after long after when a boat 
 slipped forth from shore to try the Island. The night 
 was dark and cold. The wind was moaning among the 
 stark branches overhead and whipping the foam from the 
 crest of the racing waves. In the shelter of the rocky 
 cliffs there was but little sea. Ten rods out from land, 
 however, the boat began to toss, and its owner, the Ger 
 man boatman, to implore the others to turn back. Stetson 
 wouldn t be coming back with them in such water if he 
 was there, said he, and Stetson s best boat was no bigger 
 nor stancher than this. But his mate at the oar and the 
 tillerman both said " Row on." That tillerman was the 
 envied of his craft before the dawning of another day. 
 He was the correspondent of a Chicago journal that was 
 seldom left in the race for news. He had volunteered for 
 this expedition with a double object in view. 
 
 Drenched with spray and well-nigh swamped they 
 managed to make the boathouse on the northeast, the lee 
 shore, of the Island, and there, surely enough, was Stet- 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 281 
 
 son s little dinghy, in which he must have sculled over 
 early in the evening before the rising of the gale. All 
 about " the Roost " was darkness. Leaving the shivering 
 boatman at the shore, the other two stumbled up the wind 
 ing pathway until they reached the wind-swept platform 
 at the crest, then groped their way to the black buildings 
 beyond. They were wet to the skin, chilled to the marrow, 
 and in no mood to mince matters. Given a Chicago news- 
 gatherer who had been a college all-round athlete, and a 
 Groveton Sophomore with a zest for adventure, and the 
 combination is not easy to baffle. No answer being 
 vouchsafed to vigorous battering on the door, accom 
 panied with stentorian hails, the journalist found a five- 
 pound rock and declared his intention of heaving it 
 through a window. This brought somebody to the door 
 of the deserted barroom and the Teutonic challenge 
 "Werda?" 
 
 " Call Stetson at once and say I ve important news for 
 him," said the leader. " Open that door first and let us 
 in. We re frozen ! " 
 
 " Nicht versteh " 
 
 " It s old Dummy, the Dutchman ! " broke in the Sopho 
 more disgustedly. " They say Stetson won t let him learn 
 English so s to keep him from blabbing. 7 believe he can 
 understand perfectly." 
 
 " Skip back and bring up that boatman. He can inter 
 pret. Then there won t be any excuse," and the journalist 
 swore savagely between his chattering teeth as the student 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 disappeared in the thick darkness. He was gone some 
 minutes. It was hard work lugging that benumbed and 
 dispirited Teuton up the rocks. The promise of possible 
 schnapps at " the Roost " failed to stimulate. Traeumer 
 said he knew better. Stetson never left liquor on the 
 Island after the close of the season for fear old Schwartz- 
 kopf would get drunk and set fire to the place. He had 
 fired it once last winter, and his big Dutch wife was all 
 that saved it. But the Sophomore pointed out that Stet 
 son was there, and where Stetson abode, even temporarily, 
 there was sure to be whiskey. They found the journalist 
 nearly frozen, and entirely exasperated. The custodian 
 had been deaf to either threat or blandishment, and 
 " Stetson nicht hier " was all he would say. It might be 
 all that he could say, but the journalist didn t believe it. 
 Then Traeumer took a hand, and shouted their ultimatum 
 in furious low German, and still the sturdy guardian re 
 fused to unbar. Stetson was not there, had not been there, 
 he declared, and he was forbidden, under pain of losing 
 his job, to admit anyone to the buildings at night. Then 
 his wife, too, joined in, and jabbered shrill protest, and all 
 the time the waves were beating loud on the stony beach, 
 the wind was whistling through the snapping branches 
 and screeching through knotholes in the ramshackle out 
 buildings, and every now and then assailing their ears 
 with low, unearthly meanings as of a dumb brute in 
 agony. Or was that the wind ? There was something so 
 horribly uncanny about the sound, and there was more 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 283 
 
 sound of snapping and the situation was getting un 
 bearable. 
 
 " Open, or I ll smash the door ! " shouted the journalist, 
 for the last time, heaving aloft a rock as big as his head. 
 " Open, or I ll smash ! " translated Traeumer, and then 
 something smashed of its own accord around the corner 
 around on the lee side of "the Roost "and, groping 
 thither to reconnoiter, the Sophomore found himself 
 choking and coughing in smoke dense as the darkness, 
 pouring in volumes from a cracked cellar window and 
 driven by heat like that of a furnace, and the Sophomore s 
 voice went up in a yell that split through the night like 
 the warning shriek of the Siren : " By God, it s all afire ! " 
 and from the depths within, the moaning of some half- 
 strangled sufferer changed to a choking, stifling cry: 
 "Help! Help! For Christ s sake help I" 
 
 And then the journalist held his hand no longer. Crash 
 went the rock through pane and screen, shivering the 
 glazed panel to fragments, and giving instant way for the 
 wind. Split and smash went another window on the 
 opposite side, and then, all in a second, a lurid flame burst 
 from the cellar gratings at three different points on the 
 townward side. Up flew an ax in the Sophomore s 
 muscled hand and, amidst shrieks and jabberings from 
 within, the door strained at bolt and hinge under the 
 repeated blows, and then something gave way and, all 
 three, the invading rescuers burst into the barroom, dimly 
 lighted by a single candle blinking through thick and 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 blinding smoke. Through an opposite door, screaming 
 with afright, the woman had gone. Stumbling back from 
 a narrow hallway, blind and choking, came Schwartzkopf 
 again. " Ach, Gott! Herr Stetson!, hn feuer!" he 
 sputtered in dismay ; then, on all fours, went floundering 
 out to the open air. 
 
 " Come on ! " cried the Chicago-bred leader. Fires to 
 him were things of daily and familiar use. The flames 
 were bursting up the cellar stairway as he rushed, bent 
 nearly double, through the hall, the Sophomore smother 
 ing at his heels. Guided by the moans and imprecations, 
 they smashed in a flimsy door to the right, and the instant 
 it gave way, admitting the sweep of the wind, another 
 door slammed across a narrow apartment; a snap and 
 crinkle of glass told of another window collapsed at the 
 touch of the blaze ; a fierce tongue followed them into the 
 room, hissing and searing as it came, yet mercifully light 
 ing their way, and there on a pallet lay a writhing form 
 that, never stopping to question, they seized and shoul 
 dered and thrust screaming in agony out through the 
 quickly shattered window, never heeding how or where it 
 might fall without, noting only that the face, the form, 
 the weight were by no means those of Stetson ! And then, 
 their own retreat cut off by the flames, they snatched open 
 the door that had slammed, searched through the next 
 chamber for Stetson, and found nothing but rubbish and 
 smoke and blistering heat, with tiny jets of fire curling in 
 from the transom, and creeping up through every crack 
 
THE NIGHT OF FLAME 285 
 
 from the cellar below, and then, with scorched feet and 
 smarting eyes they floundered somehow into the porch 
 beyond and presently lay gasping on the sod while, amidst 
 the wailing of the old German hausfrau and the mad 
 shoutings and caperings of her burly mate, with hiss and 
 roar and spiteful snappings the flames tore wildly through 
 the cedars close at hand and up the stairway of the tinder 
 box of a tower, and all in another minute " the Roost " 
 was one magnificent sheet of flame, tossing shingle and 
 shutter on the wings of a gale that sent them sailing far 
 out over the red-crested billows, lighting the skies for 
 leagues around. 
 
 Then presently, though they at the Island heard it not, 
 the deep-toned bell at the far-away court house boomed 
 loud on the night in the old-fashioned fire alarm. Be 
 lated locomotives in the railway yards took up the clamour 
 with shrill-screaming whistle. Other bells awakened and 
 joined their discordant clanging to the general uproar, 
 and Groveton at large turned out of bed to see what was 
 the matter, and found the blazing embers of a distant con 
 flagration shooting toward them across a mile of tum 
 bling, blood-red surges, and threatening the municipal 
 roofs and walls with responsive fire. For full ten minutes 
 there was wild scurry and confusion a rush for hand 
 engines, hose, wet blankets and ladders and then, almost 
 as swiftly as they rose, the fierce, billowing flames sank 
 low in the west; a dull, ruddy glow succeeded the lurid 
 light at the Isle ; and, as the pallid gleam of coming day 
 
286 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 appeared in the Orient sky, only a pungent, biting, cedar- 
 scented cloud of smoke, low drifting, told that all was 
 over with Stetson s Roost, and then, as the few boats that 
 ventured forth came dripping back to the shore, the wild 
 rumor went round, too, that all was over with Stetson. 
 Separated though they had been through life, so far as 
 Groveton could judge and determine, therefore, the kins 
 men in death were reunited. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED 
 
 IT was another day before the search could be begun 
 for the calcined bones of the supposedly consumed 
 owner of " the Roost." It was three days or more 
 before the searchers came to the conclusion that no human 
 being lost life within those blazing walls. Captain Hazlett 
 had earlier expressed his doubts, and the journalist his 
 opinions, on that head. The Schwartzkopfs, male and 
 female, declared that Stetson had appeared there early the 
 previous evening just after dark, just before the wind 
 arose; found it dangerous to attempt to go back and so 
 determined to spend the night at " the Roost," one room 
 in which was always ready for him. Nevertheless, they 
 had their instructions to admit nobody, and to deny at any 
 time his presence. They had retired as early as eight 
 o clock, leaving him smoking and reading in the bar. A 
 friend of his, a sick gentleman, they said, occupied the 
 adjoining room. He had been there four or five days 
 already. There had been another gentleman a big, 
 elderly gentleman like Herr Stetson some days earlier, 
 but he had gone, oh, several days already, and this gentle 
 man he had something wrong with his leg and could not 
 walk and was all the time in bed he was all that was left 
 
 387 
 
288 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 except themselves and of this man they could tell next 
 to nothing except that they were required to cook some 
 thing for him to eat three times a day, and sometimes he 
 would not eat it, and the doctor had been out to see him. 
 No, they knew not the doctor s name. They would not 
 believe Herr Stetson had gone, despite their contrary 
 assertions to the visitors, until the fact was thoroughly 
 established that not only Stetson s dinghy, but Traeumer s 
 boat, had either slipped the moorings or been spirited 
 away. The dinghy, bottom up, was washed ashore at the 
 east end of the lake by dawn of the first day to break after 
 the fire, and Traeumer s boat was encountered empty, 
 tossing on the troubled waters a hundred yards from 
 shore, by a barge load of daring young fellows pulling 
 out to the scene of the fire, perhaps twenty minutes after 
 the alarm. 
 
 Then search was made at Stetson s home, and he was 
 not there, and the domestics declared he had not been 
 there. Then certain correspondents drove out to the 
 farm of the friend twelve miles in the country, and found 
 that young Stetson, supposed to be there, had left the 
 evening of the fire ; had driven cross country six miles to 
 a railway station, where he had bought a ticket and taken 
 a train for Chicago. Then the Chicago journalist, his 
 hands and face still swathed in bandages, was seen by 
 Captain Hazlett and a fellow newspaper man, and told 
 them something of his views. Then a young fellow but 
 little known in the neighborhood because he had been 
 
CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED 289 
 
 several years away, either at sea or in the army, came into 
 the hospital and asked to be allowed to see the broken- 
 legged, semi-scorched and somewhat scratched and muti 
 lated patient brought thither for treatment after the fire, 
 too crazed with pain, terror and fever even to give his 
 name. Thinking to get information, the doctors admitted 
 this caller, who looked and was apparently satisfied with a 
 glance, but declared he did not recognize the man, and 
 declared it with such mendacity of mien that the doctors 
 believed he did. That night, late, Miss Hoyt, boarding 
 now at Jones near the Jamiesons, got a queer note that 
 brought her with Mrs. Hazlett to the hospital on the fol 
 lowing day. It said in so many words : " There s been 
 foul play at the Island. Your help came too late. He 
 didn t get away in time. Go and look at the man brought 
 to the hospital from Stetson s Roost." 
 
 All they could see was a bandaged head and form. The 
 hair was singed off, said the attendant, but Miss Hoyt 
 took one restless, twitching hand, glanced at it just one 
 moment, and bathed it with her tears. Then she knelt and 
 whispered in the sufferer s unheeding ear, and then the 
 carriage took them to the telegraph office, whence dis 
 patches were sent, rush, to Andrew Hoyt, Esq., Care 
 Brevoort House, New York, also to Captain Hazlett, 
 Recruiting Office, Clark Street, Chicago, and that night 
 the former, despite the infirmities of years, was on his 
 way ; that night the latter was again on the spot. 
 
 Three days later a conference took place at Groveton, 
 
290 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 It followed close upon a scene at the hospital. An elderly 
 gentleman, bent and sorrowing, had called in company 
 with Miss Hoyt and was taken to the bedside of the still 
 unconscious sufferer, who seemed burning away in fever 
 and delirium. There the elder bowed his head and knelt 
 in wordless sorrow. There father and daughter spent 
 some twenty minutes, sometimes mutely watching the 
 restless tossing of the patient, sometimes murmuring 
 words of hope and comfort to each other, for even Mrs. 
 Hazlett would not now intrude upon their grief. The 
 house physician came at the call of an attendant, and to 
 him, in taking leave, the old man spoke briefly. " I have 
 rescued but little," said he, " from the wreck of what was 
 once a large fortune, but I have enough and to spare, and 
 I beg you to command me if money can save this poor 
 boy. I beg you to spare no expense for anything that may 
 restore him. We shall be here now to the end, whatever 
 it may be." 
 
 More than this the gentleman did not say, as, leaning on 
 his daughter s arm, they took their way into the wintry 
 sunshine. Miss Hoyt had moved to still other quarters at 
 Groveton s one hotel deserving of the name, and this move 
 was made only at the father s urgent plea. 
 
 A few hours after their visit Captain Hazlett, in com 
 pany with the sheriff and a member of the local police 
 force, appeared and was shown to the same bedside. His 
 visit had been expected and arranged for. Some of the 
 face bandages had been removed, and Hazlett bent and 
 
CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED 291 
 
 examined the pinched and still discolored features, then 
 rose and nodded affirmatively as he glanced at the sheriff. 
 
 "You recognize him, then?" asked the latter, in low 
 tone. 
 
 " Yes, I knew him as a private trooper in the cavalry in 
 Arizona. He was serving there under the name of 
 Hayden." 
 
 "After which he deserted?" asked the official. 
 
 " After which he was reported a deserter." 
 
 The conference referred to came later still. The con 
 finement was telling seriously on the health of Captain 
 Fane. Bail had been tendered by Captain Hazlett, rein 
 forced by others, and in any reasonable amount, and bail 
 had been refused. Groveton had had no such distinction 
 in the way of crime in all its previous history, and Grove- 
 ton could not let its captive go. Something, therefore, 
 had to be done, and certain officers of the law were called 
 into conference with certain local lights of the law to 
 listen to a new phase of the case, and, before this counsel, 
 veiled and sorrowing, yet calm and self-possessed, her 
 aged father by her side, appeared Ethel Hoyt. All that 
 passed was known, until long after, only to those few, and 
 these kept their own counsel, and her confidence. 
 
 On the morrow, it was decided, Miss Hoyt should be 
 heard by the district attorney, and by an eminent jurist 
 long a friend of Colonel West. With bowed head, weep 
 ing, and escorted by silent, sympathetic officials, she was 
 shown to the waiting carriage ; her father, tremulous and 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 sad-faced, took a seat beside her, and the counsel s words 
 as he closed the door revealed nothing of what had taken 
 place, but something perhaps of what was yet to come. 
 " Then I shall call for you at ten to-morrow." 
 But " at ten to-morrow " the learned counsel had heard 
 other tidings that gave him pause. A " wire " from Chi 
 cago at nine o clock had blanched his face with conster 
 nation, not unmixed with awe. It followed close on the 
 heels of announcement to which he listened, incredulous ; 
 then turned and whistled in professional, yet not unnat 
 ural, disgust. 
 
 Late that previous evening, in the office of the sheriff 
 and the presence of two deputies, at the very moment that 
 Ethel Hoyt appeared before the council, the prisoner had 
 been allowed to see his sister, Miss Jeannette Fane. She 
 had spent ten minutes clinging to his hand and murmuring 
 low. He was looking very ill, very sad, and far from 
 hopeful, and it could not be said that her visit was doing 
 much to cheer him. Indeed it was he who seemed striving 
 to reassure and comfort. Mother, she said, would be with 
 him on the morrow, and Clare, with Mr. Tremaine, so 
 that he should not seem to be without friends when called 
 to face his accusers. Finally it came time for her to go, 
 and the deputy respectfully so informed her. At the door 
 she turned, flung herself into her brother s arms and 
 sobbed brokenly, hopelessly, almost hysterically: "Oh, 
 Ronald, Ronald ! " she cried. " If I could only have ad- 
 vised you influenced you ! " And now at last his pa- 
 
CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED 293 
 
 tience and forbearance seemed on the point of giving 
 way. He held her still close-enfolded in his embrace, but 
 his tired eyes had flashed with sudden resentment, his 
 lips compressed, and his voice in answering was low and 
 stern : 
 
 " This is unworthy of you, Jane, and your father s 
 daughter," he said, " and most unjust to me. Think of 
 what you virtually accuse me." And then he kissed her 
 and sent her, still sobbing uncontrollably, to the carriage 
 awaiting her at the door. It all made its impression on 
 the sheriff s people, even though the words were almost 
 entirely inaudible, and these two were looking queerly at 
 each other as they closed the carriage door and were 
 about to signal to the driver, when up came Hazlett, for 
 once in his life displaying haste and excitement. 
 
 " Is that Miss Fane ? " he cried. " Don t let her go ! I 
 have news " Then, following, came the sheriff, per 
 plexed, perturbed, evidently not too full of gratification, 
 yet bubbling over with ill-suppressed emotion. 
 
 " Will you come back, Miss Fane ? " asked the captain. 
 " I have great news for Ronald and cannot even wait 
 for my wife to join us. She has gone home with Miss 
 Hoyt" 
 
 Dumbly, wonderingly, Miss Fane obeyed, and once 
 more traversed the ill-ventilated corridor, and once again, 
 in the dingy little office, stood in the presence of her cap 
 tive brother. With a deputy behind him, he was seated 
 at the sheriff s desk writing a brief note before retiring 
 
294 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 to his cell. He looked up quickly, a light of hope and 
 expectation in his eyes at sound of Hazlett s footsteps. 
 Following Hazlett came the sheriff, who nodded signifi 
 cantly to his assistant and the latter slowly and reluctantly 
 turned and went out. The limbs of the civil law seemed 
 somehow to find mournful comfort in standing sentry 
 over the military, and the deputy hated to leave when, 
 mayhap, there was something to be learned. The sheriff 
 closed the door, and Hazlett went straightforward and put 
 a trembling hand on the young officer s shoulder. 
 
 " Ronald, old fellow, it has come out as I thought " 
 
 " Stetson ? Have they got him ? " broke in Fane, rising 
 quickly from the desk and facing them; then holding 
 forth a hand to Jane. 
 
 " Stetson ? " queried Hazlett, puzzled and surprised. 
 " No, but they ve got him Piggott s murderer what 
 ever may have been his excuse. It s Hayden, the lad 
 whose life you saved at Tonto Pass." 
 
 The light that had flashed to the prisoner s eye began 
 to pale ; the faint color that had swept to his cheek slowly 
 faded away. Jane herself, who had eagerly hung upon 
 Hazlett s opening words, now, so far from showing joy, 
 turned once more away and sank, dispirited, into a chair. 
 
 " I don t understand," said Fane slowly. " Surely he 
 never said so." 
 
 " No, indeed, but she did ! Ethel Hoyt his own sister, 
 Fane told us the whole story his threats against Pig- 
 gott, and then " 
 
CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDED 295 
 
 " Stop ! " said Fane, holding up his hand. " Do you 
 mean that she Ethel Miss Hoyt has accused this dy 
 ing man of Piggott s murder ? " And Fane s face in its 
 wonderment, in its mingling of gratitude, of secret joy, 
 and yet of incredulity, was something marvelous to see. 
 
 " I mean just that," said Hazlett. " She said he owed 
 his life to you had declared to her his determination to 
 punish Piggott, and yet his fear of being recognized by 
 him his purpose of shooting him if he had to " 
 
 And here poor Jane covered her face in her hands and 
 was bending forward, rocking miserably in her chair. 
 Had not she, too, well-nigh denounced her own brother, 
 and a very different kind of brother than had Ethel Hoyt, 
 that weakling, lying, incapable of speech or action, in hos 
 pital? Had not she but there was time for no further 
 self-accusation. In the midst of silence so deep that one 
 could almost have heard the drop of a feather, Ronald 
 spoke : 
 
 " It s all impossible ! " said he. " Whether his name 
 be Hoyt or Hayden, that man had nothing to do with it ! " 
 
 No wonder Lawyer Biggs, of counsel for the defense, 
 was disgusted with such a case and such an intractable 
 client. No wonder he stared over the dispatch that came 
 tumbling almost on the heels of this announcement. 
 
 " Found Stetson. Far gone, Del. Trem. Tried shooting. 
 What instructions?" 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 
 
 THERE had been sudden hegira from Groveton 
 to Chicago of prominent watchers of this now 
 celebrated case. Thither sped Captain Hazlett, 
 Counselor Biggs and one of his brothers in the law. 
 Thither followed Dr. Gilhooley of the Flats, for Stetson s 
 condition was pronounced alarming, and Gilhooley s bill 
 for professional services, rendered to Stetson s household 
 at home or on the Island, exceeded the aggregate of most 
 all the others. Stetson, when found, was far gone in drink, 
 under the roof of kindred spirits and dealers therein 
 well over on the West Side. Stetson, when found, was in 
 no condition to give account of himself or his wander 
 ings, and the denizens of his refuge swore stoutly that he 
 had come to them well drunk, and had so remained until 
 the inevitable consequences appeared and he took to pistol 
 practice as a diversion. They had him locked up in an 
 upper room, where the police were called on to disarm a 
 maniac. Now, recognized by the detective employed by 
 Biggs and Hazlett, he lay raging and raving under the 
 care of trained nurses and the guardianship of the law. 
 Dr. Gilhooley was informed that, despite his claim to be 
 the patient s family physician, he could not be allowed 
 
 296 
 
THE WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 297 
 
 to intrude. The case was one only specialists could 
 handle. Dr. Gilhooley inquired for Stetson, the son, and 
 was properly shocked and scandalized to hear that that 
 young man had vanished, with all the big " wad " the 
 father had had in his possession, the very morning symp 
 toms of mental derangement appeared. Then Gilhooley 
 was ready to engage in the pursuit of the son, yet de 
 clined to join forces with the legal and accredited persons 
 at work in the matter. " The case is one only specialists 
 can handle," said he rejoicefully ; " and this time I m the 
 specialist." Then Gilhooley disappeared. 
 
 Three days and nights did Stetson rave and rage and 
 suffer the torments of the damned before the physicians 
 found their treatment beginning to prevail. Then fol 
 lowed days of utter prostration, and meantime that other 
 patient, Hayden, worn down to a skeleton, was beginning 
 slowly and almost imperceptibly to mend. Perilously 
 near death s door had he drifted. Twice the father and 
 sister had been summoned to his bedside to see him die, 
 and still he lived, just barely lived, and knew them not at 
 all. If either patient, here at Groveton or there at Chi 
 cago, in the course of his delirium had revealed aught 
 connected with the mystery of Piggott s murder, no one 
 of the few watchers would admit it. 
 
 Stetson was the first to get on his feet, the shadow of 
 his former self, pallid, nervous and shaken, yet feverishly 
 anxious, it was noted, for news from Groveton. It was 
 considered wise at first to conceal from him the tidings of 
 
298 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Major Piggott s death. They might have spared them 
 selves the trouble. It was in every paper of prominence 
 in the West the day following the fire, and Stetson had 
 not broken down until nearly a week thereafter. What 
 the doctor and the legal luminaries were considering was 
 the fact that, if he had seen the item in the papers, his 
 conduct was callous in that he had gone on a spree in 
 Chicago instead of going back to the funeral at Groveton. 
 Another thing that called for comment and explanation 
 was the fact that he, who had been so assiduous in his 
 attentions before the night of the fire, should have mani 
 fested so little interest in the disposition of his kinsman s 
 remains and effects, but that may have been due to his 
 dazed condition. He woke to sudden and sordid interest 
 even before the doctors looked for it. 
 
 Piggott had been buried quietly and without the cus 
 tomary military honors. Three officers, designated by 
 General Sheridan, came from Chicago, and, after confer 
 ence with the legal representatives of the Stetsons as well 
 as those of the unseen, unknown Mrs. Piggott, had ex 
 amined such papers and effects as were with him during 
 his ill-starred visit to Groveton. Nothing was found, 
 there, at least, to throw much light on his past, but the 
 officers before going to Groveton had overhauled the con 
 tents of the desk, trunk and wardrobe at the Chicago 
 lodgings, and Hazlett was able to listen with the equa 
 nimity of superior wisdom to the remarks and theories of 
 the legal gentlemen wrangling over the right to posses- 
 
A WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 299 
 
 sion of the effects. There was much to tell, but the time 
 was not ripe. Among the valuables in Piggott s trunk 
 were the badges of one or two military societies to which 
 he belonged, by virtue of having borne the commission of 
 a field officer of volunteers during the civil war, and with 
 these was that inexpensive trifle, to gain which many a 
 soldier has risked his life and some few have periled 
 their reputations for veracity the Medal of Honor. Haz- 
 lett and his comrades shook their heads at sight of it 
 
 It had been expected that Piggott s disconsolate widow 
 she who had so energetically pursued him during the 
 last years of his life would be present to follow his 
 shrouded remains to the grave, but, acting on the advice 
 of her legal representative, said the Chicago firm, " Mrs. 
 Piggott has decided not to appear. Her rights," said they, 
 " will be fully protected." The major had property in the 
 East, also certain U. S. bonds, it was believed, and the 
 whereabouts of these-the lawyers were more than eager to 
 ascertain. Finding the officers close-mouthed and uncom 
 promising, they resorted to the by no means novel tactics 
 of assailing them through the press. Hazlett and his asso 
 ciates were presently and publicly accused of having guilty 
 knowledge of the disappearance of valuable securities held 
 by the late Major Piggott. The papers speedily found 
 their way to the slowly recuperating Stetson, and then 
 that worthy awoke in earnest. Stetson demanded to 
 know what steps had been taken to bring to the bar of 
 justice the murderers of his beloved and honored kinsman, 
 
300 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Major Piggott. Every man in the least acquainted with 
 the situation and facts, said he, knew the culprit could 
 be none other than Captain Fane. 
 
 Hayden still lay helpless in hospital, inert, unconscious, 
 and with the chances for recovery all against him. Stet 
 son, jr., had gone. The police, the reporters, the law 
 yers and the soldiers would not say where, and most of 
 them could not. The one remarkable thing was that 
 Stetson himself, though a large sum of money had gone 
 with the boy, refused to make the faintest charge against 
 him, and declared his conviction that his son would turn 
 up all right unless there were more Fanes about and he 
 had been foully dealt with ; yet, even while stoutly affirm 
 ing the innocence of the young man of any crime, mani 
 festing the keenest anxiety on his account and hourly 
 praying for news of him. Gilhooley had gone back to 
 Groveton in disgust, and was making vague threats as to 
 what would happen to certain people if they interfered 
 with his prerogatives again. And Stetson s own lawyer 
 had been summoned from Groveton to Chicago, whence 
 he presently returned bristling with information and im 
 portance. Stetson, he said, would be able in a week to 
 return to his own, and then we should see what we should 
 see. 
 
 And in two days less than a week Stetson was home 
 again, and now, said Groveton, the climax has come and 
 this painful mystery shall be solved, once and for all time. 
 In some way the story had got abroad that when, on 
 
THE WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 301 
 
 strong circumstantial evidence, the murder of Major 
 Piggott had been shifted from the shoulders of Captain 
 Fane to those of the possibly dying and well-nigh defense 
 less youth in the county hospital, the prop that might have 
 saved Captain Fane had been kicked from under his feet, 
 promptly and indignantly, by Captain Fane himself. It 
 was the strangest case Groveton had ever encountered or 
 ever heard of. Yet it was to encounter a stranger still, 
 and that right soon. 
 
 Fane, spurning relief on false pretenses, had none the 
 less begun to mend. He who had been sad, dispirited 
 and well-nigh broken, seemed to find new and joyous 
 heart. From the very moment that Hazlett came to him 
 with the announcement that Ethel Hoyt had declared him 
 innocent, and her own brother responsible for the death 
 of Major Piggott, Ronald Fane seized a new lease on life, 
 a new grasp on hope, energy, and even happiness. His 
 mother and sisters were amazed at the change in him. 
 He and Hazlett had had one brief conference before the 
 captain started forth on another quest. Fane had been 
 gaining in health and spirits even in the face of the fact 
 that the toils of suspicion were tightening about him and 
 the surveillance of his every word and act was closer. He 
 had been allowed to see his counsel and his kindred, but 
 denied to all others. He had killed his case if not him 
 self, said most of the wise men of Groveton, yet he looked 
 younger, blither, stronger than he had looked "since the 
 evening of that brutal assault in the west grove. 
 
302 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 And he looked to the full as brave and confident and 
 well, even on the morning when, in presence of the sheriff, 
 the district attorney and certain of the police, Stetson, the 
 elder, appeared in person, repeated his accusation and told 
 his tale. 
 
 The deceased, said he, was in Groveton on important 
 personal business. He preferred not to go into details as 
 to that business until, or unless, it should be necessary, 
 but it was " solely between themselves." They had been 
 reared together in the same village way down East and, 
 though widely separated for many years, had been brought 
 together through business and family matters. Piggott 
 had told him of the young officer s misbehavior in face of 
 the enemy in Arizona. Piggott had said that army influ 
 ence on the father s account had whitewashed the son, 
 but the stain still showed ; the young man had vowed ven 
 geance, and Piggott was really afraid to meet him. This 
 was why the major s movements had been circumscribed. 
 He lived by day over on the Island, and was to come to 
 the mainland only at night, until their business could be 
 finished and he could return to Chicago, get his belong 
 ings and go on about his leave. But, despite Stetson s 
 caution, the two had met ; recognition was instant. There 
 had been furious w r ords on both sides, probably, and the 
 major told him, Stetson, that Fane then and there swore 
 he would get his arms and shoot him on sight; that he 
 would follow him to the Island if need be, but " nail him " 
 somewhere he certainly should. Stetson tried to laugh 
 
THE WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 303 
 
 the major out of his " funk," but the major was really 
 in dread of his life. That night, late, Piggott must have 
 pulled himself ashore and attempted to get away, must 
 have encountered Fane, who was seen as late as midnight 
 in the neighborhood ; then had followed the furious quar 
 rel heard in part by Scullin; then the shooting. Now 
 there could be no other theory. 
 
 , The conference, if such it might be called, had taken 
 place in the sheriff s office, and by appointment. Stetson, 
 accompanied by his reinstated physician and familiar, Dr. 
 Gilhooley, had been conveyed thither in a closed carriage ; 
 was met there by his legal friend and adviser, another of 
 the gifted though sometimes erratic Hibernian type, and 
 these gentlemen had insisted on their rights as well as 
 their duty to accompany him. To this there had been 
 some demur on part of the sheriff, who seemed in a semi- 
 dazed condition at times ever since Fane s deliberate 
 refusal to escape at the expense of another. Moreover, 
 the sheriff had been thrown in contact more or less with 
 Hazlett and his unobtrusive civilian associate from Chi 
 cago, a detective, as the sheriff had sense enough to know. 
 The sheriff had been severe in the discharge of his duties 
 as custodian-in-chief of the accused officer, and now was 
 wishing he had been less aggressive. Hazlett and his 
 friend had evidently 2minent and powerful backing, " big 
 lawyers in consultation, and one big little general tremen 
 dously interested in the case." His theory that Fane was 
 the culprit had been staggered a bit, and he greedily wel- 
 
304 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 corned the announcement that Stetson was coming to 
 fasten the crime where it belonged. 
 
 But Stetson failed to fasten things quite as firmly as 
 the sheriff had been led to expect. Moreover, to the cha 
 grin of the district attorney and the sheriff both, there had 
 come this same Hazlett, this well-garbed and -groomed 
 man of middle age, with a letter from the Governor him 
 self, a gentleman obviously so sure of himself and his 
 mission that he vouchsafed no other explanation to either 
 of the officials than that he was there " in the interests of 
 the defense." He sat watching Stetson, and never inter 
 posed word or question until Stetson s announcement tha 
 there could be no other theory. Then at last he spoke : 
 
 " In your opinion, then, Mr. Stetson, there could have 
 been no other motive?" 
 
 Stetson turned weakly and surveyed him, not without 
 uneasiness. " What stronger motive should there be ? " 
 he said. "Didn t he want revenge?" 
 
 " Was there no one whom Piggott had wronged, infi 
 nitely more than he wronged Captain Fane ? " And Haz 
 lett sat toying with his pointed pencil and even tilting 
 back in his chair, yet eyeing his man with calm, implac 
 able scrutiny. 
 
 " How should I know ? " demanded Stetson, something 
 of his old truculence for the moment appearing. 
 
 " For instance," continued Hazlett, " Piggott would 
 have robbed Fane of his reputation, but he failed igno- 
 miniously. He robbed another man of his good name, 
 
THE WOMAN AT THE BOTTOM 305 
 
 of his home, of his wife, all three Pray don t rise, 
 Mr. Stetson." 
 
 it s a , damnable lie ! " burst in Stetson, 
 
 but his face was something fearful to see. 
 
 " It s what your own son says," continued Hazlett, 
 with cold-blooded insistence, " and I have brought him 
 here to repeat it. Would you mind inviting them in, 
 Mr. Sheriff? They are in that carriage." 
 
 Stetson s chair went back with a crash as, with start 
 ing, staring eyes, with the sweat bursting from his 
 forehead and trickling down his face, he staggered to his 
 feet and started for the door. " I m choking," he cried, 
 as an officer restrained him. " I m choking ! " and 
 indeed he looked it, but Hazlett coolly lowered the sash 
 and the officer led the stricken man to a seat beside him. 
 Sit, however, he would not. Staring from the window 
 and shaking in every limb, the wretched father looked 
 forth upon a wretched son being led limply up the stone 
 flagging from the gate, and followed by a woman in 
 deep mourning. A moment more and they were at the 
 doorway, and then, even Hazlett s calm left him at sight 
 of the agony in the face of the cornered victim. Turning 
 once more toward the interior of the room the police 
 man s arm barely sustaining him, the father gazed dumbly 
 for one moment upon the abject and miserable form that 
 faltered at the threshold. Then up went both clinched 
 fists in mid-air, shaking in impotent, intolerable wrath, 
 amaze and dreadful grief and despair. Then down, 
 
306 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 straight forward, he went, plunging headlong to the floor, 
 and the blood was gurgling from his mouth as they sprang 
 and raised him, and a woman, in funereal black, threw 
 herself upon her knees before them all and was sobbing 
 loudly, wildly: " My God ! My God ! Have I killed you 
 too?" 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 
 
 I DON T know anything about that," the President 
 was saying, as, some ten days later, he was in argu 
 ment with certain of the Faculty in his library. 
 Professors Sharpe, Lorirher and others, a committee of 
 five, had expressed a desire to be " heard," as the con 
 dition of affairs in higher collegiate circles was that 
 usually described as " strained relations." In point of 
 fact there had been a serious split in the circle Pro 
 fessor Beerbohm and one or two of similar pith having 
 declared their intention of resigning forthwith. Then, 
 as no vehement opposition to the step was heard, the next 
 announcement was to the effect that they would not 
 resign under fire this in face of the fact that there 
 seemed far less of fire than ice in Faculty circles since 
 the collapse of the case against Fane. One feminine 
 member of the corps of instructors had added her 
 announcement to that of Beerbohm, and, despite her 
 years of service, possibly because of her years, she, too, 
 had encountered no violent opposition Miss Hinton. 
 One feminine member of that corps, without announce 
 ment other than that recorded in a previous page, had 
 summarily tendered her resignation; had declined to 
 
 307 
 
308 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 reconsider; had declined to receive the President when 
 he came, as he said, to " set matters straight," and had 
 with cold but scrupulous courtesy listened unbending to 
 the pleadings of the President s wife. Miss Hoyt, as 
 yet at least, saw no room for reconciliation. Moreover, 
 Miss Hoyt and her father had gone East just as soon as 
 the young man recognized as Hayden, and now known 
 to be Hoyt, was pronounced out of danger of death. 
 It was to plead for his relief from other danger they had 
 hastened to Washington that of arrest for desertion. 
 Captain Fane had not yet resumed his duties at the 
 college, and a rumor was in circulation that he had 
 received an offer of a much better billet, which rumor 
 had caused a stir in the battalion and an appeal to the 
 powers. Sharpe and Lorimer, at least, knew that Gen 
 eral Sheridan had directed that as soon as Fane felt 
 able he should come to him at division headquarters. 
 The little general had not forgotten the older division 
 commander with whom he had served at Chattanooga. 
 Sharpe and Lorimer had been devoted to Fane in his 
 hours of bitter trial, and the strained relations in the 
 Faculty had grown from the fact that the President, hav 
 ing been largely instrumental in bringing Fane to grief, 
 of course " in the best interests of the college," 
 could not now expect to be taken into friendship or fel 
 lowship. Nevertheless he did so expect, and was 
 aggrieved and offended that, beyond the cold respect 
 accorded him as head of the institution, Fane, as he put 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 309 
 
 it, " had shown an unchristian spirit and declined to be 
 mollified." The good doctor could not understand such 
 contumacy. No man on earth could assail or impugn 
 the rectitude of his intentions, and, because his intentions 
 were unimpeachable, the results, whatever they were, 
 should be accepted by all loyal collegians whatever their 
 degree. Sharpe had amazed him by asking whether he 
 had made amende or apology of any kind, and finally 
 Sharpe and his colleagues had formally asked to be 
 heard. 
 
 Now, people asking to be heard by the President had 
 noted these facts. If he felt no interest in the matter 
 they could talk, uninterrupted, until the call of time. If, 
 however, he felt much interest they could hardly talk 
 at all. The President would take up the running and 
 they who had asked for a hearing found as a result that 
 " Prex " was the only one heard. " I don t know any 
 thing about that," he was again saying, while they sat 
 discomfited and he strode the floor. " What I maintain 
 is that this college is not the proper place for midnight 
 prowlings and mysterious movements of any kind. I 
 disapprove the idea of professors promenading at all 
 hours under the windows of our women teachers or their 
 pupils, either especially in the dead of night." 
 
 " That was not Captain Fane at all, as we all know, and 
 as we think you know, Mr. President," interrupted 
 Sharpe unhappily, " and 
 
 " Let me finish, Professor Sharpe," said the doctor. 
 
310 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 with uplifted hand. " Mr. er Captain Fane was the 
 only man actually seen or reported to me as having been 
 seen there at night, and my action was based on what 
 I then knew and believed, not by what we have heard 
 since, and with this, I apprehend, Mr. Fane should be 
 satisfied." 
 
 " With this, Mr. President, in all deference," replied 
 Professor Sharpe, " I apprehend Captain Fane will not 
 be satisfied. I certainly should not. I doubt if the 
 trustees or the public will be. There has been an entire 
 revulsion of sentiment since the unmasking of Stetson, 
 and now that that precious pair are shown in their true 
 light Captain Fane looms up rather as a martyr." 
 
 " I don t know anything about " began the Presi 
 dent hastily, but balked at the last word. He did know 
 something about it. He had seen many an indication 
 pointing to just the conclusion heralded by Sharpe, and, 
 even to himself, the President couldn t lie. It had been 
 dawning upon him that the trustees, the college, the 
 public, would actually expect of him something more than 
 rectitude of intention. It was beginning to come home 
 to him, and not entirely because of Sharpe s vehement 
 expressions, that something more than assurance of grat 
 ification was due from him to Fane, and when once the 
 President saw a duty the President was the man to go and 
 do it. But the President had been bewildered, small 
 wonder, by the remarkable array of facts that, one after 
 another, came to light after the arrest of Stetson. 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 311 
 
 Of him, the latest victim of a combination of circum 
 stances, it may be said at once there was little likeli 
 hood of his living to expiate his crime or atone for his 
 misdoing. Stetson was a doomed man, and he knew it, 
 and mortal hands were doing all that skill could devise 
 to stay, not to speed, his dissolution. Bowed and crushed 
 by a grief that for the time seemed to outweigh all 
 sense of his criminal deeds, Stetson was facing the final 
 settlement of his earthly affairs, half paralyzed, heart 
 broken. Whatever his sins, he had had one great love 
 and tenderness his only son. Years of his life he had 
 planned and plotted, bullied, fawned and lied for that 
 boy, and the graceless cub had quit him in his misery 
 and betrayed him in his crime. Followed, " shadowed," 
 and finally seized, young Stetson, in terror when told he 
 was suspected of complicity in the death of Piggott, threw 
 himself on the mercy of his captors and needlessly told 
 the whole miserable story. Detail for detail it proved 
 to be, so far as the father s part was concerned, sub 
 stantially true. There was a conscience-smitten woman, 
 too, to corroborate. There was " Hayden " Hoyt, in his 
 turn, to whisper feeble assent. There was the compara 
 tively strange young man who worked and dwelt on the 
 Hawkins place east of town he who had been long 
 away in the Army or Navy to add his testimony. 
 There were Schwartzkopf and his burly wife. There 
 were Scullin and other hands at the college farm. There 
 was old Duggan. There was even, finally, Ethel Hoyt. 
 
312 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 Long years had Stetson lived at Groveton, building 
 up from small beginnings a big, if disreputable, business, 
 and acquiring the powers of a ward boss and machine 
 politician. Of his past he had chosen to say little that 
 was reliable. The boy who came with him was the one 
 creature for whom he showed affection. So long as he 
 remained poor there was none to dog his footsteps. So 
 soon as he became rich, and his riches were referred to 
 abroad, he began to hear from kindred and former 
 friends who for a decade had forgotten him, and through 
 these eventually came the story of his early life. He 
 hailed from an eastern State. His father had been a 
 prosperous business man who, when well along in years, 
 fell in love with, wooed and won a young widow, Mrs. 
 Piggott One son was born to him; one son had she 
 born to her first husband ; and so the young Piggott and 
 the young Stetson, with four years between them, grew 
 up as boys together, half brothers, but seldom half 
 friends. Early in the 5o s Stetson, the youth, lost his 
 heart to an extremely pretty girl in a neighboring town. 
 They were married contrary to the father s wish, for the 
 old trader had heard much against her and her people, 
 but, when the deed was done, he sought to make the 
 best of it. The daughter-in-law proved selfish, complain 
 ing, exacting. Even the coming of the baby boy did not 
 mend matters. She was forever demanding money, and 
 more money, and poor Stetson, infatuated, begged, bor 
 rowed, and Piggott finally put it in his way to steal for 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 313 
 
 her. The father condoned and forgave, which was not 
 what Piggott expected. He had come home from some 
 what fruitful ventures, and had much more means than 
 Stetson, who soon had none. He felt the spell of that 
 young woman s beauty, and himself became infatuated. It 
 was not long before there was another big theft, a bigger 
 one than before, and it was proved again against Stetson. 
 Friends and neighbors by this time were whispering 
 that he was more sinned against than sinning, and so it 
 presently proved. Piggott, for a time, was missing. 
 Stetson took his little boy, the few dollars his aging 
 father would give him, and shook the dust of the home 
 town from his feet. The elders lived but a short time. 
 Piggott came back and took up the business. The lady in 
 the case, " deserted " by her husband, was given a 
 divorce, and presently reigned as Mrs. Piggott. The com 
 munity didn t like them, and they moved away. Pig 
 gott would have said West, but that was where Stetson 
 had gone, so they went still farther east, where it was not 
 many years before Piggott regretted him of his bar 
 gain, if not of his sins. The war came on, and he was 
 not sorry to leave her, in peace. Piggott was a good 
 worker. He worked into a captaincy and then into a 
 recruiting detail, and while so occupied got the ear of the 
 Governor, and higher rank in a new regiment. Luck 
 helped him to a lieutenant colonelcy in the course of the 
 second year of the war, during which, from first to last, 
 he was never in action, yet " the defenses of Washing- 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 ton " sounded big in print, and when after a hair-raising 
 fright in the summer of 63, the Capital once more 
 breathed free, when the gray columns fell back beaten 
 from Gettysburg, with lavish generosity the Government 
 rewarded the defenders who hadn t had to defend, and 
 the end of the war found him a captain of regulars, with 
 a Medal of Honor for presumable heroism, safely 
 employed mustering and disbursing, and laying up treas 
 ures upon earth. Finally, as we have seen, he was sent 
 to Arizona a major, and by this time Mrs. Piggott, who 
 had long before tired of him, began to think it might 
 be a good thing to shine in Army society, and so took 
 to pursuit of him. There were suits at law where once 
 the suits had been in love, and the absent major got the 
 worst of the decision. A veritable harridan the lady 
 proved, and then, in the extremities that followed, poor 
 Piggott bethought him of his now influential and wealthy 
 brother in Groveton. Surely if any man should be 
 grateful to him it was he, Stetson, whom Piggott had 
 relieved of a scold, a shrew and a rank extravagance. 
 Piggott never dreamed how much the poor fellow had 
 loved her, or how he loved, cherished and lied for that 
 son. Lied to him, as it proved, for Stetson had taught 
 the boy to believe that the woman who had robbed and 
 wronged him, the father, had been an angel of love on 
 earth, had long been an angel of light in heaven. Even 
 such as Stetson have their vein of sentiment. 
 And this then was the whip the major found he might 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 315 
 
 crack when Stetson, the father, cursed and refused to 
 aid him. Piggott swore he would reveal the mother s 
 shame to Stetson the son. Brute that the younger 
 brother had been in many a way, that was the one thing 
 he could not stand. The boy wasn t worth the tenth 
 part of the love and the lies that had been lavished on 
 him. It may well be doubted if he would have been 
 confounded or crushed by the tidings Piggott threatened 
 to break to him, but Stetson, the father, saw fit to believe 
 in the boy, and so temporized with the brother. 
 
 Piggott had come hoping to get money, for he needed 
 it. He won a point or two, also, by promising Stetson 
 evidence to disgrace Fane, whom Stetson hated for expel 
 ling his son. He was not, however, prepared to go the 
 lengths the Stetsons planned. They lured Fane into 
 the west grove at night, and had a trusted pair of fellow 
 blackguards on hand to " do him up." The plan was 
 simply to beat, kick, maim and mutilate the arrogant 
 officer, but Piggott s nerve, or conscience, revolted when, 
 at the last moment that plan revealed itself. The brutes 
 might have done worse than they did but for two things. 
 Piggott yelled for help ; was grappled by Stetson, and in 
 course of the struggle the latter s pistol went off and its 
 bullet ripped Piggott s fleshy thigh, disabling him. The 
 other thing was the prompt and sudden rush to the 
 scene of an active young fellow, wielding a hickory 
 stick with which, in one blow, he flattened out Stetson, 
 junior; then furiously turned on the other "toughs" 
 
316 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and put them to flight, and finally, charging upon Stet 
 son and his half-blinded son, as they stumbled with the 
 crippled man to the faintly lighted shore, all as sud 
 denly as he had appeared dropped his bludgeon and dove 
 into the bushes. In that brief instant Piggott, the officer, 
 and Hayden, the deserter, had recognized each other. 
 It might be hard to say which was the more dismayed. 
 
 Stetson s boat was in waiting, old " Dummy " at the 
 oars. Young Stetson took the carriage at Cedar Point, 
 drove home and sent for aid. Old Stetson lugged Piggott 
 to the Island; learned from him the identity of the res 
 cuer; laid a trap for young Hayden, who was swiftly 
 sandbagged a night or two later and borne a prisoner 
 to the Roost, where now the astute politician conceived 
 he had two valuable tools in his hands, both of whom 
 could be made to do his bidding. But, in his triumph, 
 he took to drink, lost his wits, bullied and threatened 
 both. Piggott almost escaped him and was only over 
 hauled after he had got safely to shore. In the furious 
 quarrel that followed, Piggott was shot and almost killed. 
 Then Stetson realized his awful dilemma. His son, one 
 or two of their accomplices and this young man, Hayden, 
 had all heard his threats to kill Piggott if he failed him, 
 and now, though he never meant, with all his hatred, to 
 go so far, he had fired what proved to be the fatal shot. 
 He did not know that Piggott, either fearing some such 
 fate or hating the man he had so wronged, had put in 
 writing the mother s story and given it to the son, " To 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR B17 
 
 be opened in case anything happens to me." Had Stet 
 son known it he might have felt even less compunction. 
 But suspicion had not as yet attached to him. Piggott 
 might not die, and Hayden could not betray him so long 
 as he was safely penned at the Island. It might even be 
 possible, by insinuation, to implicate Fane, and Stetson 
 did his best so to do, with the result we have noted. 
 Then came the collapse. The doctor told him Piggott 
 was sinking. Stetson s nerve failed him and he sent his 
 son away, preparing himself to follow as soon as he could 
 silence young Hayden, who had been making mad 
 attempts to escape, and who must have succeeded in 
 signaling to the shore, for another strange young man 
 had rowed to the Roost and inquired pertinaciously for 
 him. Then came a mad interview with his prisoner, 
 whom he sought both to bribe and bully, and who 
 damned and defied him. The storm had begun to rage, 
 and, in spite of it, came that dreaded pursuit from shore, 
 with news for him that he dare not hear. In his horror 
 he believed they had fathomed his secret and were come 
 to seize him. The witness, at least, they should never 
 have. Hayden s leg was in splints ; it had been snapped 
 below the knee in his furious struggles when waylaid 
 and tossed into the boat. Stetson hurriedly half gagged 
 and bound him; capsized his kerosene lamp in the huge 
 pile of straw and empty boxes in his cellar ; fled through 
 a rear door into the night and, daring the gale, cut loose 
 the boat; was tossed ashore at the east end an hour or 
 
318 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 so later, drenched and half drowned, and found a refuge 
 and means of escape to Chicago, but had not sense or 
 strength to avoid liquor. The delirium that followed 
 was bad enough, but the despair when, slowly rallying, 
 he found his betrayer was his own son, beggars all de 
 scription. After that Stetson never seemed to care what 
 happened to him. Partial paralysis had developed on the 
 instant, and the end could not be far off. 
 
 The strange young man from Hawkins s farm had an 
 interesting tale to tell. He had served a long enlist 
 ment, had saved his money and had a substantial sum 
 about him at the Colorado, where, while waiting for a 
 boat to Yuma, he " sat into a small game " ; found him 
 self being systematically fleeced by certain experts among 
 the troopers; made a fight for his money and then for 
 his life, and would have lost both but for young Hayden, 
 who sided with him even against his own sergeant 
 one of the experts and in the drunken affray that fol 
 lowed downed that sergeant in self-defense. After that 
 Arizona was no place for him. No officers were at hand 
 to protect. His liberty, if not his life, was imperiled and 
 he fled to San Benardino with his friend. There they 
 separated; Hayden to find a way to his kindred; Rollis, 
 the honorably discharged soldier, to his old home near 
 Groveton. There, some months after, a hunted man, 
 Hayden reached him, saying his sister was now at the 
 college, but that he had to meet her by stealth because of 
 the presence of the lieutenant who had saved his life at 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 319 
 
 Tonto Pass. Hayden told Rollis of the affray at the 
 west grove, and then, a few nights later, disappeared. 
 Rollis, seeing, finally, the candle signals at the Island, 
 conjectured that his friend had fallen into Stetson s 
 clutches. Not knowing what else to do he strove to 
 arouse Captain Fane, whose light was burning. He had 
 urged Hayden to go to Fane and surrender, assuring 
 him that when his story was known the desertion would 
 be pardoned, but Hayden had seen poor devils sent in 
 ball and chain to Alcatraz, and so dare not risk it. His 
 luck, he said, was all too bad. Rollis said his repeated 
 rappings at the window brought no response. Then he 
 decided that the young officer was not in his room, and, 
 while waiting at the rear watching for further signals 
 from the Island, he heard footfalls in the wing and saw 
 the gleam of a lamp. " The captain at last ! " said he, 
 and hurrying toward the side door was scared by the 
 sight of a strange young lady, and ran back to the 
 shrubbery. Later came two men hurrying, panting, 
 along the shore path. At first he thought they were 
 students out on a lark of some kind, and he kept in hiding 
 until they got by. Then he knew they were older men, 
 excited and muttering. From the few words he man 
 aged to hear he felt sure one of them was Stetson. 
 They went on townward along the shore, a roundabout 
 way home, but he saw now the purpose. Stetson 
 appeared that night, late, at some of his customary 
 haunts. An alibi, Rollis saw days after, might be 
 
320 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 needed. He had heard no sound of shot or struggle 
 westward toward Cedar Point, but then the wind was 
 blowing the wrong way. He did hear, shortly after 
 they passed, the sound of three shots, and saw the flash 
 of one, half a mile farther east where a wooded point 
 projected a few rods into the lake. This excited him 
 and he hurried thither to investigate, following the path 
 through the woods and so on into the main streets of 
 town, and did not see a soul. There were boathouses 
 and moored boats along the shore between the wood 
 and Mrs. Jamieson s home. There were several lanes and 
 streets leading to the thickly settled neighborhood, and 
 he found no one, nor did he know who did the shooting, 
 until long days after Fane explained it. 
 
 Fane had been warned that evening of a project to 
 take all the doors of the gymnasium from their hinges, 
 throw them out into the lake and set them adrift. He 
 could sleep but little, anyway, and had been on the look 
 out for night prowlers during the week. It might be 
 only another ambush. At all events he took his revolver ; 
 scouted the college grounds almost as far as Scullin s 
 bailiwick; then, seeing a light at the Island and other 
 lights along the shore toward town, he tramped east 
 ward again. If boats were to be used he might see what 
 boats were missing. Walking all the way to and beyond 
 Woody Point, until the eastern outskirts of Groveton 
 were reached, he could find no boat gone except one of 
 Stetson s, and his were often over at the Island. Return- 
 
AS TOLD OF THE MAJOR 
 
 ing through the wood he suddenly came, almost face to 
 face, upon two hurrying men who at first recoiled, then 
 rushed past him, hurling him heavily against a tree. 
 Despite the instant pain and faintness that seized him 
 as his wounded shoulder felt the shock, he whirled about 
 and shouted something, probably, " Halt, you cowards ! " 
 and started in pursuit. Two harmless shots were fired 
 by the runaways, and in his exasperation he drew and 
 replied. Then in shame and weakness, both, gave up 
 and sank upon a bench. He was still white and shaken 
 when he got home. The revolver had seemed to dis 
 charge itself, before he had grasped the stock and while 
 two fingers were yet along the cylinder. He doubted 
 even having raised it to aim. He was examining the 
 cylinder when he went to close the side door, and a 
 light he had not noted earlier shone from the Island. 
 He went the length of the back garden to study it and 
 it disappeared. Returning he encountered Jane and 
 that was all. 
 
 But who was to tell Jane s story ? Jane, who probably 
 had suffered most of all! To Ronald, and to Ronald 
 alone, at the time, that story was sobbed out with a 
 world of sisterly shame, sorrow and contrition, and 
 what she told him we others never knew till many a 
 year thereafter. 
 
 There was another sore troubled spirit at Groveton 
 the week that saw young Hoyt s convalescence assured, 
 the father and daughter gone to Washington (where 
 
322 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 State Senator Betts was not needed in the appeal for 
 pardon for the young deserter) and Captain Fane 
 restored to duty, if not to health. Certain few of the 
 Faculty, who thought it the policy of wisdom to hold 
 that the President could do no wrong, were striving to 
 point out to him that the manifold symptoms of wrong 
 doing on part of Captain Fane were quite sufficient 
 warrant for all the presidential strictures and measures 
 at that officer s expense. " I don t know anything about 
 that," said he, as he turned impatiently from such 
 scholastic tender of sympathy. " It seems I was wrong, 
 and I shall go to Mr.-er-Captain Fane and say so, 
 and a a Beerbohm, the sooner you do likewise the 
 better." 
 
PART IV 
 EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
 AT THE POINT 
 
 A NOTHER summer, the second since that event- 
 /-\ ful November at Groveton, had dawned upon 
 -*- * the Co-Educational. " Commencement," that 
 blissful week of the college, had come and gone. Bac 
 calaureate sermon was a thing of the past, and a thing 
 by no means forgotten, for the President had the gift 
 of words that lived long in memory. The biggest bat 
 talion ever mustered on the campus, up to that fair 
 June day, had held its final review and parade, a famous 
 general of the army coming with his staff to add eclat 
 to the ceremonies and to compliment a complacent Board 
 of Trustees on the remarkable progress made under their 
 wise and intelligent direction, whereat the battalion 
 swayed in mirth irrepressible, the first bit of unsteadiness 
 observable that day, for it was well known that, until 
 Colonel West s reappointment on the Board, he having 
 been temporarily superseded through adverse political 
 complications, Fane had had one long, up-hill tussle with 
 that semi-bucolical body, " winning out," as the boys 
 expressed it, only by sheer pluck and pertinacity. A 
 remarkable scene was that that followed the dismissal 
 of parade, when, at some prearranged signal, the student 
 
 325 
 
326 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 soldiery broke ranks and swarmed about their young 
 instructor, young despite certain filmy strands of gray 
 that showed about his temples, and told perhaps more of 
 hours of peril and trial than of years of life. They 
 cheered him until the rafters of the old gymnasium trem 
 bled. They chaired West, his backer and champion, 
 until that blushing veteran begged for permission to 
 return once more to terra firma. The two years of 
 almost ceaseless battle for right and recognition were 
 ended, and Fane had swept his opponents successively 
 from every point where they had made a stand. The 
 President long since had learned the value to the college 
 of such discipline as Fane had taught. The President 
 still held war and preparation for war to be barbarous, 
 but when such preparation resulted in such almost 
 unheard-of things as courteous and respectful demeanor 
 toward even the weaklings among the Faculty, and to 
 vast improvement in student bearing at lecture, chapel 
 and recitation, the President conceded that even from 
 such iniquitous premises might spring conclusions well 
 worth cultivating. Nine out of ten of the students had 
 become Fane s adherents, even though some of the nine 
 could have dispensed with some of the drills. The main 
 opposition had come from Trustees representing the more 
 remote districts, men who swallowed entire the stories 
 told by the few students sent home for academic reasons, 
 and were sure to lay their short-comings, either in studies 
 or conduct, to the exactions of " the military prof." It 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 327 
 
 took time to combat these impressions time, patience 
 and self-discipline, and Ronald Fane had had himself 
 to contend with and subdue before he could begin to con 
 vince the Trustees, some two or three of whom had held 
 out to the last. It was not until the meeting of that 
 second summer, the first since West s restoration to the 
 Board (vice poor Stetson s local representative now 
 deposed) that Fane s victory was finally complete. 
 
 Meanwhile there had been many a trial of which the 
 outside world heard nothing and Groveton but little. 
 Of these, that fond but most unreasoning mother con 
 tributed, perhaps, the greatest number, and the burden 
 fell almost equally on Ronald and on Jane. Long a 
 power in garrison circles, never for a moment could the 
 aging widow adapt herself to conditions wherein she 
 was but a cipher. Bred to the army blue, if not the 
 purple, poor Mrs. Fane could not be reconciled to what 
 she termed " the dreary inanities " of life in a Western 
 college town. She who had reigned as the social head, 
 the wife of the commanding officer, the recipient of the 
 attention, flattery and homage of all within her ken, 
 actually suffered in the apparent neglect and indifference 
 of these " narrow and unappreciative provincials." Poor 
 Mrs. Fane could talk to her callers of little but the state 
 in which she had dwelt, the distinguished personages 
 she had intimately known, the tremendous entertain 
 ments that were the almost daily episodes of her life at 
 Newport, at Washington and Old Point Comfort. Sim- 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 pie-minded, simple-mannered and simply-gowned women, 
 wives and daughters of teachers, some of whom were 
 eminent in their line, listened with little sympathy but 
 exemplary patience to her jeremiads, but could find no 
 other topic on which she would converse. Ronald and 
 Jane had early discovered a mine of interest and instruc 
 tion in the weekly lectures in science, history and art 
 with which college circles were favored, but Mrs. Fane, 
 after one dazzling display at a " Faculty Reception " and 
 the discovery that Ronald was the only man in evening 
 dress and herself the only woman " properly gowned," had 
 refused to attend further functions of the kind, and had 
 thereby brought not reproach, but infinite relief, to a 
 circle that had suffered distinct sense of shock at her 
 appearance metropolitan and provincial theories as to 
 what was or was not proper in feminine evening toilet 
 being widely at variance. Sister Clare, bride-elect of 
 the rector of Grace, had not ventured to appear decol 
 lete (despite a warrantable predilection), thanks to a 
 hint from Jane, whose attire had even been simplicity 
 itself. 
 
 Mrs. Fane s one adventure in college society was 
 long thereafter a fruitful topic of whispered remark in 
 strictly feminine circles of Groveton, and when, soon 
 thereafter, the sorrowing, complaining, suffering woman 
 took to her bed and slowly pined and sadly wept her life 
 away, it was not easy for college wives and mothers and 
 sisters to do what they did do come day after day, 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 329 
 
 some of them at least, to offer aid and comfort, to bring 
 delicacies and tempting dishes and tender of service 
 as nurse and helper, and Ronald Fane, who had thought 
 these people cold, uncharitable, unsympathetic, found his 
 heart going out to them in gratitude unspeakable, and 
 Jane s deep eyes welled over time and again with gush 
 ing tears. The long and anxious months of that first 
 spring and summer at last rolled by, and all that was 
 mortal of a once queenly woman was borne away and 
 laid by the side of the soldier husband who had pre 
 ceded her to the land of shadows. 
 
 There was another stay and comfort in that dreary 
 time for which Ronald felt most fervent thankfulness. 
 West had returned at Christmastide, bringing with him 
 to their final resting place all save memory that was left 
 him of the invalid wife he had taken abroad. West 
 had not been slow to see that his general s widow had 
 not long to live, and in every gentle, unobtrusive way 
 he sought to relieve the brother and sister of some 
 part of their heavy burden. Accustomed to unlimited 
 professional services from the army physicians, poor 
 Mrs. Fane expected just as much from civilian prac 
 titioners, whose monthly bills could not but equal Ron 
 ald s monthly pay had customary rates been charged. 
 Fane felt sure, despite good Dr. Stanton s stout denial, 
 that West was accountable for that most moderate 
 claim when at last Fane s demands were heard, and 
 it was rendered, and Jane went off without a word 
 
THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and hid somewhere that lovely afternoon. She so very 
 seldom happened to meet West at any time. 
 
 Fane could have sworn that those railway passes for 
 himself and family from Groveton to the seaboard and 
 return were not, as represented, the spontaneous " com 
 pliments of the road." In a dozen other ways the 
 influence and interest of West had been exerted, as Fane 
 felt sure, in their behalf, and always to their material 
 aid. Clare and her ecclesiastical Adonis never dreamed, 
 though Jane and Ronald both suspected, that West was 
 the instigator in a most unlooked-for raise of salary for 
 the incumbent of Grace, not to mention a furnishing of 
 the modest parsonage that would hardly have been sug 
 gested by the lambs of a sorely disappointed flock. 
 Clare and her Honeyman were happily wed almost within 
 the twelvemonth that marked the coming of the Fanes 
 to Groveton, almost within the month that marked the 
 going of the mother. Then, with Pet and her prog 
 eny and her husband far away, the brother and the 
 one unmarried sister found themselves once more en 
 grossed in their college duties and in each other. 
 
 And yet Jane knew he was not happy there was a 
 longing unspeakable, a void that she could never fill. 
 They seldom spoke of Ethel Hoyt, perhaps because Jane 
 felt sure he was forever thinking of her. They rarely 
 heard from or even of her. When sufficiently recovered 
 to hobble about young " Hayden " Hoyt, as they always 
 thought of him, had been taken East, his father coming 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 331 
 
 for him and bringing him to see the Fanes, not once, 
 but twice, before they left, and both times expressing 
 fervent gratitude to the young officer for the valiant deed 
 that had spared to him the life of his hot-headed boy, 
 who in his turn had risked either life or liberty in the effort 
 to rescue Fane. " Honors are easy," said Ronald, laugh 
 ing, in bidding them good-by. " Medals of Honor are, 
 at least," laughed Hayden, in reply, and told again how 
 Sergeant Strang and others had ceased to wear their 
 own after seeing Piggott s. And so, father and son, the 
 latter pardoned and discharged from service, they went 
 their way, and Ethel had not come at all. Fane had 
 written to her, a long letter, and had finally sent to her 
 a short one, telling her how deeply he appreciated her 
 effort to save his name, even to the extent of involving 
 her brother, but that was all. The mother and, in part, 
 the sisters were still dependent on him. What right had 
 he to speak of love when, confronting him at every turn, 
 was duty. 
 
 But Furlong was still there at the Point, and, in spite 
 of all that flippant manner, still a stanch friend of Ronald 
 Fane, and Furlong saw fit to write of things Fane read 
 with eagerness, yet never fully answered. Furlong told 
 how Hoyt, the absent brother on diplomatic service, had 
 come home and wrung a settlement out of State Senator 
 Betts, whom he had long suspected. Furlong couldn t 
 say just what had been done, but it was common talk 
 that Betts had been unmasked had even been forced to 
 
332 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 restore to the Hoyts certain securities he had seques 
 trated. Betts had had his choice between that and Sing 
 Sing. Once again the father and daughter were in com 
 fortable circumstances, and had taken Hayden abroad. 
 It made it all the more difficult for Fane to write, and 
 Colonel West suggested that his surplus time might well 
 be given to the study of the law, " something," said he, 
 " few army officers know anything about." State col 
 lege had no law department, but West s office and library 
 were at his, Ronald s, disposal. " And then," said Mrs. 
 Hazlett archly, when she heard of the arrangement, " it 
 will be so easy for the colonel to drop in on Ronald 
 winter evenings just to quiz him." All the same Mrs. 
 Hazlett heartily approved of Colonel West, who in turn 
 was forever begging her and the captain to come out to 
 Groveton and spend a few days with him. The big 
 house, he said, was mightly lonely. How he wished that 
 Fane and his sister could be induced to come and board 
 with him for nothing instead of paying so much of their 
 slender income into the coffers of Mrs. Jamieson ! 
 
 So Fane had been studying law some sixteen months 
 when this second June came round, and that sorely 
 wounded shoulder was still a source of frequent torment, 
 and West had long been hinting at the possibility of re 
 tirement from the profession of arms and a call to the 
 bar. The army, said he, was but a poor place in peace 
 time for even a soldier and the son of a soldier, and, 
 Ronald s ears being deaf to such semi-professional plead- 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 333 
 
 ing s, the colonel had been having others in the shape of 
 long talks with Jane talks that grew longer with the 
 sweet, spring-sunshiny days and the perfume of the lilacs, 
 the glory of the apple blossoms, the melody of the myriad 
 songsters flitting in and out among the fresh and whis 
 pering leaves, the mad frisk of the squirrel, the merry 
 laughter of sportive childhood. The talks grew longer 
 still with the long May days. The talks grew complicated 
 with walks that started briskly and soon turned to saunter, 
 and to silences that were eloquent to these two, strolling 
 in the soft May twilight along that ever murmuring shore, 
 and one night in early June Jane came to Ronald and 
 clung to him awhile, and he pretended not to know what 
 might be coming, when from his shoulder she looked up 
 at him, shyly yet with shining eyes, and when at last it 
 was told and there had been the long and longed-for ex 
 change of confidences, Jane looked again into his face, 
 asking still for more, and still there was something he 
 would not speak of, and she who had striven once to inter 
 pose to turn him from that other girl who had once 
 seemed destined to come between them now sought a 
 way to turn him yet again, and not by word or sign would 
 he encourage her. 
 
 And so when the last good-night had to be said and the 
 " Senator " was booming the hour of eleven, and all was 
 silence on the hill, she could brook the barriers no longer. 
 The cry came from the depths of her happy yet yearning 
 heart : " Oh, Ron, Ron ! now won t you go to her ? * 
 
334 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 There are so many sisters, Heaven be thanked, who think 
 as Jane did, that all her brother had to do was ask and it 
 should be given, to seek and he should find his heart s 
 desire. 
 
 It was, at last and after long trial, Jim Hoyt s graduat 
 ing June, and in those days of yore they used, most use 
 lessly, to hold the class in cadet uniform and much impa 
 tience and little discipline for a week or so after examina 
 tions were over and the standing settled, awaiting final 
 orders from Washington ; and so it happened that, in 
 ample time to see " last parade " at the Point, Ronald Fane 
 arrived there one exquisite evening in mid- June, two days 
 only after he had said adieu to the blue battalion at Grove- 
 ton, and Furlong met him at the south dock and 
 drove him, bag and baggage, to his bachelor quarters in 
 the angle. " Jimmy Hoyt," said he, " has just managed 
 to skin through, though he s swamped in demerit and 
 sixty-first in engineering they graduate sixty-two. 
 Another month of it would have been the death of the old 
 man. He looked pretty well petered out, Fane; so does 
 she." 
 
 And later that evening, as with shrill, soldier melody 
 the drums and fifes went echoing through the resounding 
 sallyport, signaling their martial tattoo, for the first time 
 since the wintry day at Groveton, nearly eighteen months 
 before, Ronald Fane looked upon the face that had lived 
 day and night in his dreams, and saw that, however hap 
 lessly expressed, Furlong s descriptive was not entirely 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 335 
 
 unwarranted. Ethel Hoyt, leading and half-supporting 
 her father, came slowly up the pathway from the west 
 ward hedge where they had been bidding " Young Hope 
 ful " good-night. With apparently no more pressing 
 anxiety on earth than that of reporting his return at the 
 cadet guardhouse before the last roll of the drums, Mr. 
 Jimmy Hoyt, with a dozen other light-heeled, light-hearted 
 young warriors, went dancing away in double time down 
 the road to the barracks, and,, the same moonlight that 
 revealed the swift flashing white trousers, fading gradu 
 ally in the dim distance, fell upon the only object sought 
 by Ronald s gaze upon those wan, yet beautiful, features 
 close at hand, upon soft, uplifted eyes, filled with troubled 
 thought and care. 
 
 A great personage had come to the hotel for the night. 
 The band had been playing in his honor. The halls, par 
 lors and piazzas had been crowded with a joyous throng 
 of visitors and more than the customary sprinkling of 
 officers and cadets. Graduating exercises were to be held 
 upon the morrow, and out of the frying pan of his cadet 
 career Brother Jim was to jump into the fire of subaltern 
 life, a full-fledged lieutenant of cavalry. Ethel s heart 
 sank at the mere thought of it. Hayden had told her 
 what trooper work was like in Arizona, and a friend at 
 court had confided to her that Jim s assignment was to the 
 very regiment in which that other had so nearly ended his 
 days. True, the old regiment was, for the time at least, 
 done with Arizona. True, " Old Catnip " was still at its 
 
336 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 head and could be relied upon, said their informant, to 
 " take the nonsense out of Jimmy." But between these 
 two, Fred Hayden and James DePeyster, the perils of the 
 one, the errors, escapades and extravagances of both, 
 the days of the father would probably not be too long 
 in the land which the Lord had given him, while those of 
 the sister had been burdened with a weary load. And yet 
 she loved them, as women will, better probably than that 
 light of the consular and diplomatic service, Andrew, 
 
 
 
 junior, in whose care finally Hayden had been launched 
 as sub-assistant secretary under the shield of the United 
 States in the consulate at Coblentz. In the year or more 
 of almost unaided looking after an aging and much broken 
 father, and two such happy-go-lucky, helpless brothers, 
 small wonder was it that Ethel Hoyt s once rounded cheek 
 had thinned and paled, and that there had been but little 
 time for thought of others. 
 
 Yet thought there had been, and sorrowful thought, and 
 much of it. The girl does not live who likes it in a man 
 that his manner should abruptly change from the devo 
 tional, even worshipful, to the constrained and distant, 
 albeit at her suggestion, and when such suggestion grew 
 from the circumstance of Ethel Hoyt s relations with the 
 Co-Educational, and those relations had abruptly and 
 finally terminated, there was no reason, that she could see, 
 why constraint and distance should not also end. But 
 instead had come that letter, almost formal how was she 
 to know of that other letter, long, grateful, glowing, that 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 337 
 
 told so much that she, being a woman, would have loved 
 to hear that letter that his cooler judgment and his sense 
 of duty told him he had no right to send ? Locked in his 
 heart, and an inner drawer of his old desk, that letter still 
 lay hidden. Pride, foolish pride, added still another bolt 
 and bar when later he heard of her bettered fortune. On 
 that head he need have had no least compunction there 
 was barely enough to keep them from worrying. 
 
 And so for nearly eighteen months Ethel Hoyt had 
 been schooling herself to consider Ronald Fane as a mem 
 ory, even while her heart rebelled that he should so readily 
 accept the assignment. She was thinking of him as she 
 turned from the gateway to her father s aid, for Jim s 
 last joyous word was a wish that he might be in the same 
 troop with Captain Fane. She was thinking of him even 
 as she strove cheerily to reassure her father, who looked 
 upon the Indian frontier as something little short of the 
 Inferno, and Jimmy s chances of extinction as already set 
 tled. She was thinking of him even as she reached the 
 steps and recalled the glorious rides that began and ended 
 there. She was thinking of him and how, almost rever 
 ently, he had lifted her from saddle and stood her on that 
 lower step where now he stood in person, and civilian 
 dress, smiling and with extended hands. She ceased to 
 think, for everything seemed dizzily reeling round, in the 
 midst of which, with sure foot and one firm hand, at least, 
 he was supporting the father up the stair. It enabled her 
 to fall behind and regain her breath, composure and ideas. 
 
338 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 She was herself again when they saw that father safely 
 seated and in converse with a former crony of the 
 " Street." She was therefore, in spite of being herself, 
 far from being the Ethel he hoped to see. She was again 
 Miss Hoyt. 
 
 Nevertheless, Ronald Fane had come for a purpose and 
 with resolute mind. She felt it, knew it, when he offered 
 his arm and led her to the north piazza and that glorious 
 outlook over the northward reach of the Hudson led 
 her to the very spot where they had stood that night in 
 June three years before. Many people were seated along 
 the west and southward front, but few were here, and 
 these few were paired and absorbed, as well they might 
 be. She was trembling a bit, for there had been no warn 
 ing of his coming, and she who had long months before 
 resented his silence, now, womanlike, was maneuvering 
 to check his words. She who had quit Groveton and the 
 " Co-Educational " indignant and affronted, stood plying 
 him with questions as to all manner of people for whom 
 she could feel but faint appreciation. How was Dr. Par 
 sons and good Mrs. Parscns ? and oh, how was Miss Hin- 
 ton, and had Miss Hinton ever forgiven her for the man 
 of straw that dangled at Miss Hinton s casement? Inno 
 cent as was Miss Hoyt of all complicity in that exploit, 
 she had not escaped suspicion in Miss Hinton s austere 
 mind. At least the perpetrators were none other than 
 Miss Hoyt s own pupils. There was no denying that. 
 Neither was there way of proving. Finally Miss Hoyt 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 339 
 
 wanted to know all about Mrs. Tremaine, and the hand 
 some rector, and Miss Fane. Was Miss Fane still at Mrs. 
 Jamieson s? No, Miss Fane was living at the Rectory 
 now. Oh, how very much better that was! Yes, very 
 much, said Fane, yet only temporary. Indeed! Were 
 they planning to keep house now Captain Fane and his 
 devoted sister? She certainly was devotion itself. The 
 devotion was duly conceded, also that Jane was contem 
 plating housekeeping, and there was indeed prospect of 
 his being included in the very charming arrangement, as 
 Colonel West had been so kind as to suggest his coming 
 to live with them, and then, of course, Miss Hoyt was all 
 felicitation for the colonel and for Jane. It was an ideal 
 match! They were people of such strong and marked 
 character, so admirably suited to each other, etc., and 
 all the time Miss Hoyt was conscious of the fact that he 
 saw, perfectly well, through her girlish artifice, saw and 
 knew she was hardly conscious of what she was saying, 
 and presently the soldier in him spoke in spite of her, and 
 with hands that trembled even as did her own, he seized 
 and held them and bent toward her, as she leaned against 
 the railing. 
 
 " Three years ago, here, on this very spot, I tried to tell 
 you what I ve come to tell you now. No, Ethel, you must 
 listen to me ! " he pleaded, for she struggled to free her 
 hand and check him. " But everything seemed to inter 
 pose. You went one way, I another ; and when we met 
 at Groveton you know that duty alone duty to the mother 
 
340 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 and sisters dependent on me kept me silent. Last week 
 ah, listen, Ethel, Jane looked into my face as she told 
 me her happiness and " 
 
 But she would not listen. She lifted up her head, the 
 sweet, pale face turning full upon him, earnest, intent, 
 resolved, and, though her voice was low, it was firm and 
 strong. 
 
 " You knew your duty, Captain Fane, and I have mine. 
 I will not hear another word." 
 
 And so she left him ; and yet, in all the light and glam 
 our and gladness about her, in the midst of all the mirth 
 and music and rejoicing after graduating parade and at 
 the graduating ball, her deep eyes sought him on every 
 hand as the hours sped by and he never appeared. It was 
 Brother Jim who broke the spell. All excitement and 
 importance he came fairly sliding to her side. " Great 
 news, Ethel ! I m assigned to the th, Fane s regiment. 
 The whole Sioux Nation are out ! Crook s called for help ! 
 Every mother s son of us is needed! Fane started at 
 noon ! " Then duty had summoned him again. 
 
 A woeful summer was that that followed. Even as the 
 joyous class was ringing its parting cheer from the 
 crowded deck of the day boat, and all the rocky heights 
 about the Point were alive with the flutter of kerchief and 
 the frantic waving of hats and helmets, caps and class 
 banners, away out among the foothills of the wildly beau 
 tiful Big Horn, along other bold and wooded heights, in 
 countless hordes the red warriors were swarming in hate 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 341 
 
 and fire on the battling lines of Crook. Another week 
 and in even greater force and fury they had engulfed the 
 fated squadrons of Custer, leaving not a soldier soul to 
 tell the tale. And then while, all rejoicing, the nation was 
 flocking to Philadelphia and the first great exposition in 
 our land, the stubborn bands of Sitting Bull and their kin 
 dred warriors, Sioux and Cheyenne, led on from one wild 
 range to another, luring the pursuing columns farther and 
 farther away from camp and supplies, rarely facing them 
 in fair fight, but ever enticing, to the end that, after long 
 weeks of marching and scouting through blistering heat 
 or pitiless rain, through storm and tempest, hail and prai 
 rie fire, through ashen " bad lands " where even sage and 
 greasewood could not grow, where the turbid streams 
 were thick with mud and alkali, where game was scarce 
 and grass was gone burned skillfully away where wag 
 ons could not follow and pack mules mired in quicksand, 
 without shelter of any kind and presently without rations, 
 their scanty clothing in rags, their boots worn to shreds, 
 gaunt and famished, officers and men faring and sharing 
 alike, the so-called " dapper dandies " of the old regiment 
 fell upon their starving horses, when even prairie dogs 
 could not be found, and ate the luckless beasts that for 
 days had been too weak to bear a rider s weight. " Take 
 the nonsense out of Brother Jim," indeed! There were 
 long weeks in which no word whatever came from the 
 column, and mothers and wives, sisters and sweethearts 
 in distant homes watched and prayed and shuddered, 
 
312 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 thinking over the awful fate of Ouster s men and dreading 
 with each new-coming day to hear the same of Crook s. 
 In late June the regiment had passed through Denver, 
 northward bound. In July it had struck the Cheyennes 
 on the War Bonnet and chased them to the agency. In 
 early August it was at the Big Horn ; in late August on 
 the Yellowstone, and then it dove into the wilderness to 
 be heard of again at last in the Black Hills, after stirring, 
 spirited battles with Crazy Horse and his bands 
 drenched, dripping, haggard and well-nigh unrecogniz 
 able, yet tough and hardy in spite of all, and finally in 
 the bleak November came Jimmy s exultant missive from 
 old Red Cloud Agency : " Disarmed the Sioux to-day. 
 Home on leave Thanksgiving," and nothing would do but 
 that the sub-assistant secretary of the Consulate at Cob- 
 lentz should also get leave and come across the Atlantic 
 that the father might have his two boys with him at least 
 once more. Despite the Indian experience of Arizona, 
 Hayden Hoyt could only with difficulty be held at his post. 
 He was simply wild to be once more with the old regiment, 
 even as a private, and mad with envy of Jim, actually an 
 officer in his old troop. 
 
 But if Ronald Fane had been the hero of one boy s talk 
 before, what was he now with both lads home Jim still 
 gaunt as a greyhound, and as hungry, but idolatrous as a 
 spaniel? Oh, Crook was all right. Crook was great. 
 So was Atherton so was old Stannard, their major. And 
 there were rattling good soldiers in that little cavalry brig- 
 
. 
 
 V4 
 
EPILOGUE : AT THE POINT 343 
 
 ade and the wonderful command of infantry that, " hoof 
 ing it " from start to finish, used to outmarch them day 
 after day on empty stomachs, because they had no horses 
 to tow along. But Jim Hoyt had just one hero and idol, 
 his troop commander Fane, and Ethel, who had had to 
 listen to Hayden s panegyrics all the winter months that 
 followed their eastward flitting from Groveton, had now 
 to hear both lads, from Thanksgiving until after Christ 
 mas, when each was summoned back to his station, and 
 she was once again alone in her vigil with her father and 
 mother the latter but recently restored to them from 
 long illness alone with them and her thoughts of the 
 lover whose suit she had utterly refused to hear. 
 
 And then there came a time, late the following spring, 
 when again the boys sought leave, Jim hastening home 
 ward from Nebraska in answer to telegraphic summons 
 from that " friend at court " and the War Department. 
 It was not unexpected. Ethel s letters had been prepar 
 ing him for the inevitable, and yet when it came it was 
 all so mercifully swift and sudden, so peaceful and so 
 serene. 
 
 They took them to the seashore for a while after the 
 loved old father had been laid away, the mother mourning 
 as ever, and as ever leaving to Ethel all matters of man 
 agement and business. Then Jim had to hurry to his 
 troop, for once again the regiment was afield and Indian 
 chasing all summer long. Then " the diplomatic corps " 
 persuaded the family, and with little difficulty, that mother 
 
344 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 would be happier with her boys in the foreign life she 
 loved and lived so long. To them, therefore, and to the 
 Rhineland she voyaged before the harvest moon had 
 waned, leaving Ethel visiting with old family friends until 
 all the business details could be settled. " Ethel would 
 follow later," though Jim had his own ideas about that. 
 Then again came the chill autumn days on the wide moun 
 tain waves of Wyoming, the dreamy, delightful Indian 
 summer in the Hudson Highlands, and one soft, hazy 
 afternoon a fair-faced girl, still wan and sad and in deep 
 mourning, stood leaning against the railing of the old 
 north piazza, gazing silently over that incomparable vista 
 of earth and flood and sky. Two big tears seemed brim 
 ming in her soft eyes. Someone, who had come search 
 ing through the deserted hallway, faltered at the door, 
 irresolute, unwilling to intrude, yet, eager and rejoicing 
 a woman burdened with a blissful duty and a letter. 
 At last, almost on tiptoe, she approached, and the girl 
 started, turned and smiled upon her as she came. 
 
 " A letter for you, Ethel." 
 
 "Forme, Mrs. Hazlett?" 
 
 " For you, and for no one else," was the answer, and the 
 bearer vanished, leaving the bulky little packet in hands 
 that suddenly grew tremulous. 
 
 " I am sending you the letter, [were the first words that met 
 her eyes as she opened the outer envelope] written nearly three 
 years ago when, to save me, you would have accused your brother. 
 Last year when I tried to speak you would not hear me, Ethel. 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 345 
 
 Now will you read ? I go again to Groveton to take up the work 
 I left when needed in the field. Read, and tell me may I come 
 first to you." 
 
 She did not know he was even then so near, nor had he 
 told her. What was more natural, when he heard of 
 Hazlett s detail at the Point, than that he should follow 
 on to see them, his ever devoted friends ? A summer of 
 splendid, vigorous life had the regiment enjoyed, a sum 
 mer of scouting through the grandest country in all 
 America, a summer of radiant sunshine and mountain air, 
 a country rich in scenic beauty, with white-capped peak 
 and wooden range and green rolling foothill and flashing, 
 foam-crested torrent on every side, and when the early 
 snow clouds settled down upon the cliffs and the white, 
 filmy veil came sifting slowly earthward, blanketing the 
 game trails and the upland prairies, the recall sounded at 
 the distant outposts, and by easy stages the regiment came 
 riding jauntily homeward from beneath the morning 
 shadows of Cloud Peak, across the swirling Big Horn, 
 rounding the base of Heart Mountain, dipping again and 
 again in the deep ravines that seamed the eastward slope 
 of the Shoshone Range the valleys of the Meeyero, 
 Meeteesee and Gray Bull, still home of the elk and the 
 buffalo. Then, over the huge barrier of the Owl Creek 
 Mountains and into the broad lands of the Wind River, 
 with the grand triplet sentinels of the Tetons standing 
 guard at the west, and the peaks of Fremont glistening 
 against the southern skies; and then the long, winding 
 
546 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 way through the sheep herders paradise, and the clamber 
 over the green bulwark to the Sweetwater beyond, and 
 thence, through Devil s Gate, to rejoice again at sight of 
 the dear old Platte, frisking northward to meet them, and 
 then obligingly turning away southeastward to be escort 
 and companion through days of brisk, exhilarating ride, 
 through starry nights of song and slumber, on past Fet- 
 terman Heights, past La Prele, La Bonte and on to hos 
 pitable old Laramie, and here " the Chief " summoned 
 Fane to headquarters and bade him push ahead to Chey 
 enne and Chicago, with dispatches for the division com 
 mander and a four weeks leave for himself. Many a 
 letter had met them at Laramie, and Jimmy Hoyt had 
 come to tell him of Hazlett s orders to the Military Acad 
 emy of Mrs. Hazlett s September with Ethel at Scon- 
 set, of Ethel s being with the Hazletts even now. What 
 more natural, indeed, than that Fane should wish to see 
 these old and tried and trusted friends before once again 
 reporting for duty to the selfsame, yet very differently 
 greeting, President at Groveton? Long enough he 
 stopped at his quarters for that letter and for needed rai 
 ment in which to return to civil life and civilization. 
 Then, within another day, he was speeding after it. Ethel 
 Hoyt had barely time to read it thrice, to dream over it 
 at all, or even whisper that her heart said " Come," when, 
 sun tanned, vigorous, brimful of the ozone and energy of 
 the wide frontier, just where they had parted in the old 
 north piazza just the year agone, he stood before her and 
 
EPILOGUE: AT THE POINT 347 
 
 read surrender in her soft, yet shining, and at last up 
 lifted eyes. 
 
 There was a house warming when the Hazletts moved 
 from the hotel into the new quarters, and a welcoming 
 " hop " at the officers club, and full uniform was the 
 order of the evening. There were insignia of famous 
 military societies on the uniform of many a senior among 
 the officers present the Loyal Legion, the Army of the 
 Potomac, " Sheridan s Cavalry " and the like shone re 
 splendent under the globe lights, but, between the double 
 row of cavalry buttons on the breast of Ronald Fane hung 
 a medal in dull bronze, surmounted, in miniature, by the 
 national flag. There was none to match it in the crowded 
 room, though it came to others later, and though there 
 were others there that had well deserved, yet never re 
 ceived it. 
 
 "Where s your medal?" Hazlett had bluntly asked 
 when Fane came down from his room. 
 
 " I said I shouldn t wear it," answered Fane. 
 
 " I said he should," quietly remarked a young lady 
 whose half mourning was to keep her from the dance at 
 which Fane must needs appear, though it seems he did 
 not long to remain. 
 
 " Then somebody ll have to pin it on," said the owner. 
 
 " It takes a woman to do that," quoth Hazlett. " Per 
 haps I d better call my wife," whereat he vanished, grin 
 ning, and Fane stepped forward, the priceless trifle in his 
 hand. 
 
348 THE MEDAL OF HONOR 
 
 She stood beneath the flag-draped archway to the dark 
 dining room beyond, the firelight from the open hearth, 
 the soft gleam from the chandelier and sconces, falling 
 full upon her sweet face, from which the pallor and the 
 sorrow had vanished almost in a night. There was even 
 a faint flush upon the cheeks. There was radiance in the 
 quick, upward glance as gently he drew her forward to 
 the fireside, then, smiling, " stood attention." 
 
 " It s the way Dolan and I had to stand first time it was 
 ever pinned on," said he, " and I ve never worn it since." 
 
 So, facing him, she leaned her white hands on his breast, 
 his deep eyes glowing upon her as, trembling just a little 
 bit, the slender fingers drove the stout pin through the 
 blue and snapped it in its seat. Then, daintily, they 
 smoothed and patted the soft ribbon; then, slowly, they 
 would have come away when, suddenly, his arms were 
 about her, holding her close and strong, the blessed trophy 
 of his soldier valor almost crushed into the soft fabric that 
 fluttered above her heart. Even then, not satisfied, sud 
 denly again he loosed his hold ; masterfully he seized the 
 soft, white hands ; lifted them over the glittering shoulder- 
 knots until they had to clasp about his neck; then once 
 again his arms enfolded and held her, and his lips, scorn 
 ing faint struggle and denial, sought and found hers and 
 claimed their own before he murmured : 
 
 " I know what my medal s worth at last." 
 
 THE END 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY