whiff of
wind astir, and yet Davies could have sworn the storm-door swung slowly
open a foot or so as they neared the gate, then suddenly shut to. What
was more, he felt that his companion had seen and noted the same
circumstance, for she drew an instant closer to his side, then as
quickly seemed to recollect herself and edged away.

Davies looked back over his shoulder. So certain was he that the
storm-door had been opened and closed by some unseen hand within the
wooden casing that he would have turned to investigate, but for his
companion. He could not well leave her. They had now reached the east
end, right in front of the set of quarters which were so soon to be his
own. The hospital loomed up dark and massive across an open space two
hundred yards away. Only a narrow foot-path had been cleared from the
end of the sidewalk to the main entrance of the big building. He had not
thought to put on his over-shoes, and so, letting Miss Loomis lead,
Davies fell behind. Now that they were away from ear-shot of the
quarters their talk languished. Davies at least was thinking of that
mysterious door and wondering if he should not have looked into the
matter then and there. Now it was too late. If some garrison prowler
were the cause, he had doubtless by this time taken alarm and slipped
away; if Captain Devers or any of his household were the "power behind,"
then it was none of Davies's business. Hurrying up the creaking,
snapping steps of the hospital, they found the office-door locked. "I
more than suspected you would need me," said Davies. "Will you wait one
moment?" He tiptoed away through the long corridor, found the drowsy
attendant in the big ward, and learned that the steward had gone to his
little home in Sudstown, but would return in five minutes. It was nearer
fifteen when he came, and meantime Miss Loomis and her escort seated
themselves in the warm corridor and chatted in low tone as befitted the
time and place. In one of the little wards a suffering soldier was
moaning, evidently in penance for recent spree, and weakly imploring
drink of a stolid nurse.

"Don't make a fellow mad with misery," they heard him plead. "You know
where to get it. You know it's worse than hell to have to choke off
short."

"Of course I do," was the brutal answer. "If I'd never knew it before,
I'd learned it that night on the train when you could have sent me help
and wouldn't."

"My God, Paine! you asked me to steal from the capta