er to hear the particulars of the
condition of affairs at the corral, and all were disposed to be envious
of the mounted captain who could ride alongside the one participant in
the rescuing charge and get it all at first hand. The field-officers, of
course, were mounted, but every line-officer marched afoot with his men,
except that three horses had been picked up at the railway and impressed
by the quartermaster in case of need, and these were assigned to the
captains who happened to command the skirmishers and flankers.

But no man had the faintest idea what manner of story that tall sergeant
was telling. It would have been of interest to every soldier in the
command, but to no one so much so as to the two who were his absorbed
listeners. Armitage, before their early march, had frankly and briefly
set before him his suspicions as to the case, and the trouble in which
Miss Renwick was involved. No time was to be lost. Any moment might find
them plunged in fierce battle; and who could foretell the results?--who
could say what might happen to prevent this her vindication ever
reaching the ears of her accusers? Some men wondered why it was that
Colonel Maynard sent his compliments to Captain Chester and begged that
at the next halt he would join him. The halt did not come for a long
hour, and when it did come it was very brief, but Chester received
another message, and went forward to find his colonel sitting in a
little grove with the cavalryman, while the orderly held their horses a
short space away. Armitage had gone forward to his advance, and Chester
showed no surprise at the sight of the sergeant seated side by side with
the colonel and in confidential converse with him. There was a quaint,
sly twinkle in Maynard's eyes as he greeted his old friend.

"Chester," said he, "I want you to be better acquainted with my
step-son, Mr. Renwick. He has an apology to make to you."

The tall soldier had risen the instant he caught sight of the newcomer,
and even at the half-playful tone of the colonel would relax in no
degree his soldierly sense of the proprieties. He stood erect and held
his hand at the salute, only very slowly lowering it to take the one so
frankly extended him by the captain, who, however, was grave and quiet.

"I have suspected as much since daybreak," he said; "and no man is
gladder to know it is you than I am."

"You would have known it before, sir, had I had the faintest idea of the
danger in which m