d, and the ideal
he had set for his soul of truth and honor, of high thinking and clean
living in the temptations that come to a soldier's daily life.

And she applauded his ideals. She told him they were big and fine and
she was proud of him as a true son of Old Virginia.

The sun was sinking behind the dim smoky hills toward the West when she
rose.

"We must be going!"

"I had no idea it was so late," he apologized.

It was not until he reached his room at eleven o'clock after three hours
more of her in the reception room that he faced the issue squarely.

He stood before the mirror and studied his flushed face. A look of deep
seriousness had crept into his jolly blue eyes.

"You're a goner, this time, young man!" he whispered. "You're in love."

He paused and repeated it softly.

"_In love_--the big thing this time. Sweeping all life before it.
Blotting out all that's passed and gripping all that lies beyond--Glory
to God!"

For hours he lay awake. The world was made anew. The beauty of the new
thought filled his soul with gratitude.

He dared not tell her yet. The stake was too big. He was playing for all
that life held worth having. He couldn't rush a girl of that kind. A
blunder would be fatal. He had a reputation as a flirt. She had heard
it, no doubt. He must put his house in order. His word must ring true.
She must believe him.

He made up his mind to return to Fort Leavenworth next day and manage
somehow to get transferred to Fort Riley for two weeks.

CHAPTER XVII

The Surveyor of the lands of Pottawattomie Creek was shaping the
organization of a band of followers.

To this little group, composed as yet of his own sons in the main, he
talked of his work, his great duty, his mission with mystic elation. A
single idea was slowly fixing itself in his mind as the purpose of life.

It was fast becoming an obsession.

He slept but little. The night before he had slept but two hours. When
the camp supper had been prepared, he stood with bare head in the midst
of his followers and thanked God. The meal was eaten to-night in a grim
silence which Brown did not break once. The supper over, he rose and
again returned thanks to the Bountiful Giver.

And then he left the camp without a word. Alone he tramped the prairie
beneath the starlit sky of a beautiful May night. Hour after hour he
paused and prayed. Always the one refrain came from his stern lips:

"Give me, oh, Lord God, the Vision!"