ty, I have invited you and the captain
to hear what I consider the really valuable evidence. Will you call in
Trooper Rawdon?"

Snaffle's face was a sight when the door opened and there entered a very
self-possessed young man, in stylish and becoming civilian dress, who
nevertheless stood bolt upright, with his hand raised in salute.

"Hwat's he mean by coming here in 'cits'?" said Snaffle, in hoarse
whisper, to his commander.

"Yes, Colonel Riggs; if this man's a soldier, why isn't he in uniform?"

With perfect respect, at a nod from Riggs, the newcomer replied: "My
uniforms, and other belongings of mine, were taken from my trunk in town
during my absence."

"You could have borrowed one," said Snaffle truculently.

"I told him he need not," retorted Riggs. "And now, gentlemen, we'll
waste no time trying to worry the witness. Mr. Rawdon, you _were_ a duly
enlisted trooper, I believe. Take that chair."

"And am still, sir, as far as I know."

"But your discharge is ordered, as I understand it."

"It was applied for and recommended, and General Whipple told me in
Chicago a few days ago it was settled; but that would have made no
difference, sir. I should have been proud to wear the uniform until
officially discharged."

Riggs wheeled in his chair. "Colonel Button, it has been fully explained
to this--man, and to the next, that what they tell us here is to be
just what they would swear to before a court. You can decide for
yourself on hearing it whether you wish them to swear to it or not. Now,
Rawdon, tell us how you came to enlist."

"As the representative of three newspapers, in Chicago and the East.
They were anxious to have an Indian campaign, and the life of an
enlisted man, described as it really was. I joined a squad of recruits
for this regiment right after the news of the Crazy Horse Battle on
Powder River."

"Do you still hold that job?"

"No, sir;" and there was a twitch of the muscles about the corners of
the mouth suggestive of amusement.

"Why?"

"I failed to--give satisfaction. Only scraps of my letters were
published."

"What did they want?"

"Criticism principally, and confirmation of the stories of abuse and ill
treatment of soldiers by their officers."

"Were your letters never published?"

"Three of them, eventually, after the campaign--in the New York _Morning
Mail_."

Whereupon Riggs spun in his chair and rejoicefully surveyed Button, who
sat like a man in a daze, staring,