ry intervention.

"There was a fine healthy clamor in camp the next morning about the lost
guidon. But I did the soldier no damage, for he had been promoted to a
lieutenancy for special gallantry on the field, and he therefore could
no longer have carried the guidon if he had had both the flag and the
troop."

The stories of camp and field, thus begun, swiftly multiplied; they wore
the fire to embers, and the oil sank low in the lamps. There was a chill
sense of dawn in the blue-gray mist when the group, separating at last,
issued upon the veranda; the moon, so long hovering over the sombre
massive mountains, was slowly sinking in the west.

Among the shadows of the pillars a tall, martial figure lurked in ambush
for the old chaplain, as he rounded the corner of the veranda on his way
to his own quarters.

"Pa'son," a husky voice spoke from out the dim comminglement of the mist
and the moon, "'twas me that carried that guidon in Dovinger's
Rangers."

"I know it," declared the triumphant tactician. "I recognized you as
soon as I saw you again."

"I'm through with this," the young mountaineer exclaimed abruptly, with
an eloquent gesture of renunciation toward the deserted card-table
visible through the vista of open doors. "I'm going home--to work! I'll
never forget that I was marker in Dovinger's Rangers. I carried the
guidon! And that last day I marked their way to glory! There's nothing
left of them except honor and duty, but I'll rally on that, Chaplain.
Never fear for me, again. I'll rally on the reserve!"

WOLF'S HEAD

It might well be called the country of the outlaw, this vast tract of
dense mountain forests and craggy ravines, this congeries of swirling
torrents and cataracts and rapids. Here wild beasts lurked out their
savage lives, subsisting by fang and prey,--the panther, the bear, the
catamount, the wolf,--and like unto them, ferocious and fugitive, both
fearsome and afraid, the man with a "wolf's head," on which was set a
price, even as the State's bounty for the scalps of the ravening brutes.

One gloomy October afternoon, the zest of a group of sportsmen, who had
pitched their camp in this sequestered wilderness, suffered an abatement
on the discovery of the repute of the region and the possibility of
being summoned to serve on a sheriff's posse in the discharge of the
grimmest of duties.

"But he is no outlaw in the proper sense of the term. The phrase has
survived, but the fact is