t four weeks ago. The men say
another young fella came out here one night, had a talk with Morton, and
they went out together. He got regular permission. Nobody has set eyes on
his friend out here since that time, but Morton got three passes to town
in ten days, and Squeers happened to want him, and gave orders _he_
should have to be consulted hereafter. 'Bout a fortnight since, by Jove,
Morton lit out suddenly and was gone forty-eight hours, and was brought
back by a patrol, perfectly straight, and he said he had to go on account
of a friend who had been taken very ill and was a stranger here. Squeers
let him off with a warning, and inside of three days he begged for a
twenty-four-hour pass, and Squeers wouldn't give it. He went without it,
by George! It was just about the time the Prime family arrived, looking
up the boy they heard was in your regiment. This time there was big
trouble. The patrol sent for him went directly to the lodgings of his
sick friend, and there they found him and he laid out two of our best men
for forcing a way into the room. They told me your carriage nearly ran
over him the day of the review. Then came that dam fool charge about his
being mixed up in this robbery. Then his escape from under Billy Gray's
nose, by George, and that's the last of him. Canker sent a party in to
look him up at the usual place, and both birds had flown, both, by
George! The sick man was well enough to be driven off in a carriage, and
there's nothing further to tell as yet."

"I wish I had known about him earlier--before the Primes came," said
Armstrong thoughtfully, knocking the ashes off his cigar. "Of course you
divine my theory?"

"That Morton's the missing son and heir? Of course. Now that I've seen
Miss Prime the family resemblance is strong. But if he wanted to soldier,
what's to prevent. Those tents yawnduh are full of youngsters better
educated than I am," and Gordon arose, tangling a long, lean leg in the
nearest campstool, which he promptly kicked through the doorway into the
sailing fog outside. It was barely eleven o'clock, but already the raw,
wet wind was whistling in over the barren, sandy slopes and dunes, and
the moisture dripped in big drops from the sloped rifles of the men
marching sturdily in from drill.

"Yawnduh comes the Prime carriage now, by George," continued the
adjutant, as he limped to the entrance. "Ole man seems all broke up,
don't he?" Armstrong had promptly risen and came stridin