of
good wishes with it."

He took it wonderingly, silently. Good heavens! Was this the woman who,
through his testimony, stood accused of degrading crimes? Was it
possible that she could have been the criminal, and yet at the very
time could write those mysterious words upon the hidden
card--proffering aid and friendship? What manner of woman was this now
quivering with excitement at his side, her glowing eyes fastened on the
rapidly advancing form of Roswell Holmes? What meant she by speaking of
the man he most feared as his most steadfast friend?

Just as Major and Mrs. Miller with Dr. Bayard stepped upon the broad
gallery of Bedlam at its southern end and stopped in embarrassment at
sight of the group at the other, Mr. Holmes had bounded up the steps
and, placing in her hand a telegraphic despatch, held forth his own to
Randall McLean.

"Read it aloud!" was all he said, and eagerly she obeyed:

"CHUGWATER, Friday, 4 P.M.

"ROSWELL HOLMES, ESQ., Fort Laramie.--Parsons streaking it for
Cheyenne. Has plenty money. Close at his heels.

"DRAKE."

XIX.

Whatever sensation or suppressed mystery may have existed at the post
prior to the receipt of the brief despatch announcing that the soldier,
Parsons, had "bolted," it was all as nothing compared with the
excitements of the week that followed. Miller's first impulse, when Mr.
Holmes placed the brown scrap of paper in his hands, was to inquire how
it happened that a civilian should concern himself with the movements
of his men, either in or out of garrison, but something in the
expression of Miss Forrest's face as she walked calmly past him on the
way to her room, and in the kindling eyes of this popular and respected
gentleman gave him decided pause.

"There is a matter behind all this which I ought to know, is there
not?" was therefore his quiet inquiry; and when Mr. Holmes assured him
that there was, and the two went off together arm in arm, leaving Mrs.
Miller to wonder what it all could mean, and to go in and upbraid her
pet lieutenant for venturing from his room when still so weak, it was
soon evident to more eyes than those of Dr. Bayard that something of
unusual interest was indeed brewing, and that the ordinarily genial and
jovial major was powerfully moved. In ten minutes the two men were at
the telegraph office and the operator was "calling" Cheyenne. An hour
later, after another brief and earnest talk with Miss Forrest on the