But when mine host of the Argenta came back from seeing the Flyer off for the west he, too, had questions to ask as to Foster. Did the office clerk see anything of him? Nothing. "Queer," said Boniface, "we gave his hand baggage to the Pullman porter, as directed, but his trunk is there yet. Reckon I'll have to wire after him and tell the conductor to send them things back by No. 5." And this, before he went to bed, the landlord proceeded to do, but no Captain Foster appeared during the night to claim the trunk or remonstrate about the luggage; nor came there any answer to the dispatch to the Flyer until the following morning, when there was handed the proprietor a slip somewhat as follows: Man calling himself Captain Foster put aboard last night at Fort Siding, slugged and robbed. Taking him on to Wister. Physician in charge. Better notify police. This was about eight o'clock, at which time the old guard was cleaning up about the guard-house and the companies detailed for the new were assembling in front of their quarters, and the officer of the guard, a young lieutenant recently joined from civil life, new to his trade and strange to the traditions of the army, was cross-questioning a reluctant corporal about an unauthorized item of equipment found tucked into his cartridge belt when the guard paraded at reveille--an officer's gauntlet of the style worn in the cavalry a year before this time. The corporal explained that it had been picked up by No. 3 just before his relief was taken off post at 5:15, that it had been handed him, the corporal, just before sentry's shout of "Turn out the guard!" at the approach of the officer of the day, and he had stowed it there for want of a better place and before he had had time to examine it. But No. 3, it seems, had _had_ time to examine, and had told some of his mates of his discovery. They had gone to Corporal Clancy to see for themselves, and had been told to go about their business, which led to more talk that finally reached the lieutenant's ears. Clancy had had a clatter with the sergeant and had been refused permission to go to his quarters anywhere, for a strange story was flitting about the post concerning two or three men of "B" Troop who had been out late the previous night, had got liquor over at a vile resort far across the Minneconjou, and a little southwest of town, and had had a sanguinary fight of some kind, for Sullivan was badly cut and Connelly had a nasty eye, and there was something black and ugly back of it they were trying to hide, unless veteran sergeants were in error; and finally the sergeant of the guard told the lieutenant of the story and said he believed Corporal Clancy was secreting evidence that might be of value, whereupon Clancy was ordered into the presence and told to produce that gauntlet.