s accustomed presence of mind. "Oh, we simply manned the saw-mill
hose," said he, in complacent acknowledgment of the congratulation of
the staff officials first to meet him. "It didn't take long to souse
them to their sober senses."

Indeed, the three car-loads of dripping and bedraggled humanity, meekly
side-tracked under the guarding bayonets of the one company of infantry
left at the fort, found not a sympathetic eye among the lookers-on. An
ambulance had carted off to the hospital four or five, whose battered
skulls bore witness to the hammering powers of big Milligan and his
bung-starter. That redoubtable giant himself, weak from the shock of
having involuntarily gulped more water in a second than ever before he
had swallowed in weeks, was flattened out in a baggage-car. Two more of
the arriving reinforcements failed to appear to the public eye at the
scene of congratulation, and, as sometimes happens in even so well
regulated a family as our little army, these were the two who most
deserved any honors that were being bestowed,--Mr. Davies and his
assistant pipeman.

Just as the last prostrate victim of that powerful combination--rum and
riot--had performed the frog's march to the baggage-car, the raving
saloon-keeper had been instructed to send his bill of damages to the
chief quartermaster across the bridge, the conductor had signalled "Go
ahead," and the young officer, ruefully scanning the wreck of his new
fatigue uniform, was clambering on the platform of the sleeper, when he
saw that the blood was dripping from the corporal's hand, despite the
big handkerchief wrapped about it.

"Come in here, corporal," said he. "Let me look at that. How did it
happen?" And he led the way into the men's toilet-room of the sleeper.

"I must have cut it with some of that broken glass at the window," was
the answer.

He was paling now, drooping evidently from loss of blood. Quickly Mr.
Davies unrolled the bandage, and there, beside a little jagged gash,
disclosed a deep cut from which the blood was oozing. "Why, man," said
he, "that's as clean as though done with a razor. Did any one try to
knife you?"

But the soldier made no answer. He sank limp upon a seat. Two civilian
travellers, in prompt sympathy, tendered flasks, and a stiff cup of
brandy brought back some vestige of the flitting color. Then a young
lady came forward from the interior of the car. "Please let me help
you," she said. "My father was a surgeon and I