e, without allowing the
fear to disturb the pleasure of the present communion. Lieutenant Fred
Russell could not fail to be an individual of keen interest to those
who had never before seen him. While the captain was talking, he sat
modestly in the background, smoking his brierwood, listening as
intently as if everything said was new to him. It was noticed that
like several of the rest, he did not drink at the bar, though he
received numerous invitations. Truth to tell, he had been quite a
drinker, but during that eventful journey through the mountains, when
Captain Dawson was talking of his daughter, as he loved to do, he
named those who had reformed as the result of Nellie's influence. The
young officer made no comment, but it struck him that if those rough,
hardy men could abstain, it ought not to be difficult for him to do
the same, and he did it.

Few men were more prepossessing than the lieutenant. He was educated,
about twenty-four years of age, and undeniably handsome. His campaigns
of exposure, hardship and fighting had hardened his frame into the
mould of the trained athlete. The faded uniform which he still wore
became him well. The ruddy cheeks had grown swarthy and browned, but
when he removed his cap, the upper part of his forehead showed as
white and fair as that of a woman.

His nose was slightly aquiline, just enough to give character to his
countenance, the hair which was rather scant, was dark like the
mustache and the small tuft on his chin. He wore fine, high cavalry
boots, reaching above the knees, a sword and like the captain was
armed with revolver and Winchester rifle.

Crouched at his feet was his massive dog Timon, an object of as much
interest as his master; for, curious as it may seem, he was the only
canine ever owned in New Constantinople. He was of mixed breed, huge,
powerful and swift, seeming to combine the sagacity and intelligence
of the Newfoundland, the courage of the bull dog, the persistency of
the bloodhound and the best qualities of all of them. Seeming to
understand that he was among friends, he rested his nose between his
paws and lay as if asleep, but those who gazed admiringly at him,
noted that at intervals he opened one of his eyes as if to say:

"Strangers, I guess it is all right, but I'm taking no chances."

Coming with the credentials that no one else ever bore, Lieutenant
Fred Russell was sure of a warm reception at New Constantinople. The
depletion of the popul