ver a month's
pay troubled him less by far than that he had lost repute. He had
suffered much in pocket, but more in prestige. He had been a successful
player in the Columbia country, too much so for the good of scores of
comrades, but especially himself. He could have found it in his heart
to throttle that guffawing clown, whose rude bellow of rejoicing over
Case's brilliant bluff and his own defeat, had brought even the dago
and his fellows in staring wonderment to the open door. He would have
pledged another month's pay could he have throttled the story he knew
now would be going the rounds. He was even more humiliated--far
more--than they knew. They all would have shouted had they seen the
hand he laid down, but he had striven to carry it off jocosely, to say
_he_ had only been bluffing, and was very properly caught at his own
game. Oh, he had shown a game, sportsman-like front, and had striven to
pass it all off as a matter that worried him not in the least, but
Craney, clear-headed, believed otherwise, and Case, muddle-headed as he
was by noon, knew better, and had his reasons for knowing--reasons as
potent as were those that moved him wholly to ignore Willett's
half-proffered hand.

Case had nothing in particular to do all day, and could sleep if so
minded. Willett, not knowing what moment he might be called upon to
take active part in stirring service, should sleep, and so prepare
himself, yet could not. Case's personality, and Case's one reference to
Vancouver, two years previous, haunted and vexed him sorely. Where and
under what circumstances had he seen the man? Only for three weeks had
he been at the fine old post referred to, while a big court-martial was
there in session, and he, with other subalterns, had come as witnesses.
There had been dinners and dancing and fun and flirtation, both at the
post and in Portland. There had been card-playing in which he was easy
winner, and not a little of his winnings had gone for wine. There had
been foolish things said in pink little ears, and even written in silly
missives that now he would have been glad to recall, but--but no harm
to him as yet had come from them. There had even been a girl whom he
had never seen before nor since that visit, nor wanted to see again,
nor hear from, yet from her he _had_ heard, and more than once--piteous,
imploring little letters they were. But, heavens! he was busy hunting
Indians when they began to come, and then they had ceased