he believed, in reading Maidie to sleep, and then,
stretching herself upon the bamboo couch across the room, was, the next
thing she knew, aroused by voices.

Sandy Ray had entered so noiselessly that she had not heard, but Maidie
had evidently been expecting him. In low, earnest tone he was telling
the result of his search the night before. She heard the words:

"Connelly is down with some kind of fever in hospital and hasn't seen or
heard anything of any one even faintly resembling Foster. Then I found
your old friend the brakeman. General Vinton has got him a good place in
the quartermaster's department, and he tells me he knows nothing, has
seen and heard nothing. Now I'm going to division head-quarters to find
Stuyvesant."

"And then," said Miss Porter, "my heart popped up into my throat and I
sprang from the sofa." But too late. An awful, rasping voice at the
door-way stilled the soft Kentucky tones and filled the room with dread.

"Then you've no time to lose, young man. It's high time somebody besides
me set out to help him. That other young man you call Foster lies dead
at the police-station,--killed by _your_ pistol, Miss Ray, and Mr.
Stuyvesant goes to jail for it."

CHAPTER XVII.

In so far as human foresight could provide against the cabling to the
States of tremendous tales that had little or no foundation, the
commanding general had been most vigilant. The censorship established
over the despatches of the correspondents had nipped many a sensation in
the bud and insured to thousands of interested readers at home far more
truthful reports of the situation at Manila than would have been the
case had the press been given full swing.

Yet with Hong-Kong only sixty hours away, there was nothing to prevent
their writing to and wiring from that cosmopolitan port, and here, at
least, was a story that would set the States ablaze before it could be
contradicted, and away it went, fast as the Esmeralda could speed it
across the China Sea and the wires, with it, well-nigh girdle the globe.

A gallant young volunteer, Walter Foster of Ohio, serving in the
regulars under the assumed name of Benton, foully murdered by Lieutenant
Gerard Stuyvesant of New York! A love affair at the bottom of it all!
Rivals for the hand of a fair army girl, daughter of a distinguished
officer of the regular service! Lieutenant Stuyvesant under guard!
Terrible wrath of the soldier's comrades! Lynching threatened! Speedy
jus