mpaigning.
"Shall I have out my sergeant and cooks at once? We'll need to take
rations."

"Yes, but wait with me till I wire the chief at Laramie. Come to the
office." So saying the post commander turned and strode away. The
captain glanced at the upper window where the light now dimly burned,
but blind and window were open, and a woman's form appeared.

"It's all right, Maidie," called the captain, softly. "May have to start
out on scout at daybreak. That's all. Home soon," and with a reassuring
wave of the hand, turned again to his stanch friend and commander.

"I hate to send you--again," said Webb. "You were out in June, and the
others have had only short scouts since--"

"Don't bother. What's a cavalryman for? Shall we?--I--can't believe
it--some how," and Ray stopped, glanced inquiringly at the major, and
then nodded toward the doorway of the third house on the row. The ground
floor was occupied by Field as his quarters, the up-stair rooms by
Putney and Ross.

"Come in," said the major, briefly, and, pushing through the gate they
softly entered the dark hallway and struck a light in the front room. A
wood fire was smouldering on the andirons in the wide brick chimney
place. An open book, face downward, was on the centre table. Two
embroidered slippers lay as though hurriedly kicked off, one under the
sofa beyond the mantelpiece, the other half way across the worn carpet.
Striking another match at the doorway, Ray passed on to the little inner
room,--the bed chamber. On the bed, carelessly thrown, were the young
officer's best and newest forage cap, undress uniform coat and trousers.
He had used them during the evening when calling at the Hays'. On the
floor were the enamelled leather buttoned boots he wore on such
occasions. The bed was otherwise untouched. Other boots and shoes in
orderly row stood against the wall beside the plain, unpainted wardrobe.
The spurred riding boots and the knee-tight breeches were gone. Turning
back to the front room, Ray found the major, his face gray and
disturbed, holding forth to him an open envelope. Ray took it and
glanced at the superscription. "Lieutenant Beverly Field, Fort Frayne,"
and returned it without a word. Both knew the strange, angular, slashing
hand-writing at a glance, for both had seen and remarked it before. It
was Nanette Flower's.

Dropping the envelope on the table--he had found it on the floor--Webb
led the way to the open air. There was then no time t