might dress down at last.

"Colonel Landcraft, I beg the favor of a word in private," said the
stranger at the door.

The colonel opened the door wider, and peered sharply at the visitor,
a frown gathering on his unfriendly face.

"I haven't the honor"--he began stiffly, seeing that it was an
inferior civilian, for all civilians, except the president, were
inferior to the colonel.

"Macdonald is my name. I am a rancher in this country; you will have
heard of me," the visitor replied.

"Nothing to your credit, young man," said the colonel, tartly. "What
do you want?"

"A man's chance," said Macdonald, earnestly. "Will you let me
explain?"

Colonel Landcraft stood out of the doorway; Macdonald entered.

"I'll make a light," said the colonel, lowering the window-shades
before he struck the match. When he had the flame of the student's
lamp on top of his desk regulated to conform to his exactions, the
colonel faced about suddenly.

"I am listening, sir."

"At the beginning, sir, I want you to know who I am," said Macdonald,
producing papers. "My father, Senator Hampden Macdonald of Maine, now
lives in Washington. You have heard of him. I am Alan Macdonald, late
of the United States consular service. It is unlikely that you ever
heard of me in that connection."

"I never heard of you before I came here," said the colonel,
unfavorably, unfolding the credentials which the visitor had placed on
his desk, and skimming them with cursory eye. Now he looked up from
his reading with a sudden little jerk of the head, and stood at severe
attention. "And the purpose of this visit, sir?"

"First, to prove to you that the notorious character given me by the
cattlemen of this country is slanderous and unwarranted; secondly, to
ask you to give me a man's chance, as I have said, in a matter to
which I shall come without loss of words. I am a gentleman, and the
son of a gentleman; I do not acknowledge any moral or social superiors
in this land."

The colonel, drew himself up a notch, and seemed to grow a little at
that. He looked hard at the tall, fair-haired, sober-faced man in
front of him, as if searching out his points to justify the bold claim
upon respectability that he had made. Macdonald was dressed in almost
military precision; the colonel could find no fault with that. His
riding-breeches told that they had been cut for no other legs, his
coat set to his shoulders with gentlemanly ease. Only his rather
greasy som