y who so skilfully treated those poor fellows burned out on our train.
I suppose you heard of it."

"Why, yes," answered the youngster, again curiously studying the face of
his tall visitor. "Then it was you she--I heard about. Wish I weren't on
duty. I'd be glad to have you over at my quarters or the club."

"I wish so too, and yet I'm lucky in finding you here, since"--and here
Stuyvesant turned and looked resentfully towards the bedraggled figure
of Murray, now being supported back to the cells--"since that fellow
proved so churlish and ungrateful. He's all wrath at being put behind
the bars and won't answer any questions."

"What else could he expect?" asked Ray bluntly. "He's a deserter."

"A deserter!" exclaimed Stuyvesant in surprise. "Who says so?"

"Captain Kress, officer of the day, or at least a cit who came with him
to identify him. They say he skipped from the Seventh Cavalry."

At this piece of information Mr. Stuyvesant whirled about again in added
astonishment. "Why," said he, "this upsets--one theory completely. I
declare, if that's true we're all at sea. I beg pardon," he continued,
but now with marked hesitancy--"you know--you've heard, I suppose,
about--Foster?"

"What Foster?"

"Why, the recruit, you know, the one we lost at Port Costa," and the
blue eyes were curiously and intently studying the face of the younger
soldier, dimly visible now that the guard-house lamps were beginning to
glow.

"I knew there was a recruit missing, and--seems to me that was the
name," answered Ray.

"And--didn't you know who he was--that it was--pardon me, the man
who--lived near you--had a ranch----"

"Great Scott! You don't mean Wally Foster! _He_ enlisted and in the
cavalry? Well, I'm----" And now Mr. Ray's merriment overcame him. "I
never thought there was that much to Wally. He was a lackadaisical sort
of a spook when I saw him. What possessed him to enlist? He's no stuff
for a soldier."

Stuyvesant hesitated. That letter of old Colonel Martindale's was shown
him in confidence. But Ray's next impetuous outburst settled it.

"Oh, by Jove! I see it,--it's----" And here the white teeth gleamed in
the lamplight, for Mr. Ray was laughing heartily.

"Yes? It's what?" smiled Stuyvesant sympathetically.

"It's--my sister, I reckon," laughed Ray. "She once said she wouldn't
marry outside of the army, and he heard it."

"Oh,--did she?" said Stuyvesant reflectively, and then he was silent.

CHAPTER