esently came toiling up the hillside, touched his
fur cap front in salutation to tall Lieutenant Ennis, and begged leave
to speak a moment with Doctor Schuchardt, whom he led slowly away.

Looking gravely after them and pondering many things in mind, Ennis,
none the less, had attentive ear for the chatter and gossip of a
neighboring group that had suspended their sledding for the moment and
were curiously watching the pair.

"There's no more the matter wid Dora Mayhew than there is wid me, 'cept
one," said a red-cheeked maid of "laundress row," to the eager group
about her. "She's been daft about that young dude Rawdon ever since he
came last spring to Frayne."

"Yes, an' deef to Cockney Fitz," laughed another.

And Ennis, turning quickly, noted the group, four young non-commissioned
officers and three of the garrison girls, all of them toying with the
name of good old Mayhew's bonny daughter, she whom that veteran English
horseman had taught and guarded with such jealous care, to the end that
jealousy burned in the hearts of a dozen other girls less favored in
face or fortune. Well had Ennis known of Sergeant Fitzroy's aspirations.
Few in the regiment had not, and few there were who did not know that,
in spite of Mayhew's avowed dislike for him, the girl had for a time
encouraged. It may have been only to pique the others, for Fitzroy was
clever, well-to-do, a rising man in the service; indeed, one who had
"money in the bank and men in his toils," said elder women in the
quarters.

Then, in April, to Fort Frayne, had come this handsome young fellow
Rawdon, with better looks, better manners, and even, as it seemed,
better money, for Rawdon was lavish where Fitzroy was "near," and the
favor of the young girl, who had toyed with the Englishman, turned from
him to this unknown. Then the whole command went forth to war and to a
summer of sharp work. Then with the late October, headquarters, band,
and six troops had been transferred from Frayne to Cushing, close in to
civilization. Then had come Fitzroy's new opportunity, with Rawdon left
at Frayne. Then had come Rawdon himself; then the night of mystery; then
the day of the storm, and when the skies above were clear again Rawdon
was gone, no man knew whither, leaving a trail of suspicion,
accusation, and a weeping, well-nigh desperate girl behind.

And in this web of intrigue and mystery Bob Lanier had become deeply,
even dangerously, involved. Ennis was sorely worrie