"Sound," was the colonel's answer, slow and sententious. "Of course he

is much--concerned."

"About--his case? Ah, will you smoke, colonel?"

"About Blakely. I believe not, Plume; it's late."

Plume struck a light on the sole of his natty boot. "One would suppose

he would feel very natural anxiety as to the predicament in which he

has placed himself," he ventured.

"Wren worries much over Blakely's injuries, which accident made far

more serious than he would have inflicted, major, even had he had the

grounds for violence that he thought he had. Blakely was not the only

sufferer, and is not the only cause, of his deep contrition. Wren

tells me that he was even harsher to Angela. But that is all a family

matter." The colonel was speaking slowly, thoughtfully.

"But--these later affairs--that Wren couldn't explain--or wouldn't."

Plume's voice and color both were rising.

"Couldn't is the just word, major, and couldn't especially--to you,"

was the significant reply.

Plume rose from his chair and stood a moment, trembling not a little

and his fingers twitching. "You mean--" he huskily began.

"I mean this, my friend," said Byrne gently, as he, too, arose, "and I

have asked Graham, another friend, to be here--that Wren would not

defend himself to you by even mentioning--others, and might not have

revealed the truth even to me had he been the only one cognizant of

it. But, Plume, others saw what he saw, and what is now known to

many people on the post. Others than Wren were abroad that night. One

other was being carefully, tenderly brought home--led home--to your

roof. You did not know--Mrs. Plume was a somnambulist?"

In the dead silence that ensued the colonel put forth a pitying hand

as though to stay and support the younger soldier, the post commander.

Plume stood, swaying a bit, and staring. Presently he strove to speak,

but choked in the effort.

"It's the only proper explanation," said Graham, and between them they

led the major within doors.

And this is how it happened that he, instead of Wren, was pacing

miserably up and down in the gathering dawn, when the sentry startled

all waking Sandy with his cry for the corporal. This is how, far ahead

of the corporal, the post commander reached the alarmed soldier, with

demand to know the cause; and, even by the time he came, the cause had

vanished from sight.

"Apaches, sir, by the dozen,--all along the edge of the mesa,"

stammered No. 5. He could have convinced the corporal without fear or

thought of ridicule, but his voice lacked confidence when he stood

challenged by his commanding officer. Plume heard with instant

suspicion. He was in no shape for judicial action.




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