ay, and there
stood his own desk, a beautiful and costly thing--his mother's
gift--with its strong locks and intricate system of pigeon-holes and
secret drawers. He would "chance it" one night, he said, and give his
trusted servant orders to stand guard over the premises, and so the
little bag of gold went into one closed compartment, the envelopes and
wads of treasury notes into the hidden drawer, and the key into his
watch-pocket.

His servant was a young man whose father had been with Colonel Ray for
quarter of a century, a faithful Irishman by the name of Hogan. He was
honest to the core and had but one serious failing--he _would_ drink.
He would go for months without a lapse, and then something would
happen to give him a start, and nothing short of a spree would satisfy
his craving. It was said that in days gone by "old man Hogan" was
similarly afflicted, but those were times when an occasional frolic
was the rule rather than the exception with most troopers on the far
frontier, and Hogan senior had followed the fortunes of the --th
Cavalry and Captain Ray until an Indian bullet had smashed his
bridle-arm and compelled his discharge.

Whereupon Mrs. Ray had promptly told the gallant fellow that their army
home was to be his, and that if he would consent to serve as butler or
as the captain's own man to look after his boots, spurs, and sabres he
would never lack for money comforts, or home.

Perhaps had Mrs. Ray foreseen that the dashing Irishman was destined to
lay siege to the heart of her pretty maid, she might have suggested
setting Hogan up in business farther away. Perhaps, too, she would not,
for his almost pathetic devotion to her beloved husband was something
she could never forget. Hogan, the crippled veteran, and Kitty, the
winsome maid, were duly wed, and continued as part of the army household
wherever they went. And in course of the quarter century it seemed to be
but a case of domestic history repeating itself that young "Mart" should
become Mr. Sandy's factotum and valet, even though Sandy could have
secured the services of a much better one for less money. Young Mart had
all his father's old-time dash and impetuosity, but less of his
devotion, and on this particular Thursday evening, just when his master
most needed him, Mart was not to be found. Ray stormed a bit as he
finished his toilet. Then, as there was no time to be lost, he closed
the door of his bedroom behind him and hastened away to th