the enclosure to the softer, almost shadowy light
of early eve. Ray had but just come in from the street without where the
slanting sunbeams bursting through the clouds beat hot upon the dazzling
walls, and his eyes had not yet become accustomed to the change.
Reverently, pityingly, he bent and looked upon the features of the dead.
An expression, first of incredulity, then of surprise, shot over his
face.

He closed his eyes a second as though to give them strength for sterner
test, and then, bending lower, once more looked; carefully studied the
forehead, eyebrows, lashes, mouth, nose, and hair, then, straightening
up, he slowly faced the waiting room and said,--

"I never set eyes on this man in my life before to-day."

CHAPTER XVIII.

To say that Mr. Ray's abrupt announcement was a surprise to the dense
throng of listeners is putting it mildly. To say that it was received
with incredulity on part of the soldiery, and concern, if not keen
apprehension, by old friends of Sandy's father who were present, is but
a faint description of the effect of the lad's emphatic statement.

To nine out of ten among the assembly the young officer was a total
stranger. To more than nine out of ten the identification of the dead as
Walter Foster, Maidie Ray's luckless lover, was already complete, and
many men who have made up their minds are incensed at those who dare to
differ from them.

True, Mr. Stuyvesant had said that the sentry, Number 6, did not remind
him except in stature, form, and possibly in features, of the recruit he
knew as Foster on the train. He did not speak like him. But, when
closely questioned by the legal adviser of the provost-marshal's
department--the officer who conducted most of the examination with much
of the manner of a prosecuting attorney, Mr. Stuyvesant admitted that he
had only seen Foster once to speak to, and that was at night in the dim
light of the Sacramento station on what might be called the off-side of
the train, where the shadows were heavy, and while the face of the young
soldier was partially covered with a bandage. Yet Vinton attached
importance to his aide-de-camp's opinion, and when Ray came out
flat-footed, as it were, in support of Stuyvesant's views, the general
was visibly gratified.

But, except for these very few, Ray had spoken to unbelieving ears.
Sternly the military lawyer took him in hand and began to probe. No need
to enter into details. In ten minutes the indi