ey came, and only a corporal's guard remained. Had
Gleason been intent on anything but the manner in which he could make
his communication most public and significant, if not offensive, he
would have noticed that both Turnbull and Loring were in riding dress.
But while it could not be said of him that in his condition he was
capable of seeing only one thing at a time, those things which he did
see were duplicate images of the same object, and he lurched up to the
dual Loring and the hazy figures that seemed floating about him, and,
with an attempt at majestic impressiveness, thickly said: "Mr. Loring,
I'm bearer of a message from my fren' Mr.--Captain Nevins, d'manding the
me'dy't r'turn of the diamon's an' valu'bles he placed in your
p'ssession."

Other officers within earshot heard, as Gleason intended they should
hear, and turned instantly toward the group, all eyes on the two--the
flushed, swaying subaltern in fatigue uniform; the calm, deliberate man
in riding dress. A faint color, as of annoyance, quickly spread over
Loring's face, but for a moment he spoke not a word. Angrily the post,
commander came hurrying forth, bent on the prompt annihilation of his
luckless subaltern, and was about to speak, but Loring interposed.

"One moment, sir, I beg." Then turning again on Gleason the engineer
looked him calmly over from head to foot a second or two and then as
calmly said:

"Too late, sir, they've gone."

CHAPTER VII.

Three days after the adjournment of Nevins' court Camp Cooke had dropped
back to the weary monotone of its everyday life. Everybody was gone
except the now sullen and complaining prisoner and the little garrison
of two companies of infantry. Vanished even were all but two or three of
the colony of gamblers and alleged prospectors, who occupied, to the
annoyance of the commanding officer and the scandal of the sutler, a
little ranch just outside the reservation lines whither venturesome
spirits from the command were oft enticed and fleeced of the money that
the authorized purveyor of high-priced luxuries considered his
legitimate plunder. By this time Camp Cooke waked up to the fact that it
had been dozing. While its own little force of cavalry was scouting the
valleys of the Verde and the Salado to the east and Blake's troop had
been rushed up the Hessayampa to the north, and there was no one
apparently to do escort duty through the deserts along the Gila, Camp
Cooke and the outlying prow