Just as we go to press a dispatch is received from a representative of the STAR, who left last night on the westbound Flyer. The train was flagged at Fort Siding and boarded, with the assistance of a ranchman, by Captain Stanley Foster, of the Cavalry, lately visiting friends at Minneconjou. The officer was bruised, bleeding, and well-nigh exhausted, but managed to tell that he had been held up while driving, had been forcibly carried out on the open prairie, and brutally beaten by ruffians whom he declares to be soldiers, all strangers to him with one exception. The captain names as ringleader a prominent and well-known young officer of the post. Dr. Fowler, of Sagamore Heights, was called by wire, met the train at the Pass, and went on with the injured man. The story, of course, sounds incredible, and cannot as yet be substantiated. It was just after lunch time when a messenger came to the Rays. The surgeon asked if the lieutenant could come to Major Dwight a moment, and the doctor himself met Sandy at the door. The veteran's face was very grave. He had known the young officer but a few months. He had known his father long. "Are you feeling fit for a hard interview?" he asked. "If need be. What's the matter?" "Dwight is in a fearful frame of mind, and the Lord only knows how it is to end. Dwight realizes now that Jimmy was entirely innocent of any knowledge of that thing the Thorntons charged him with. Your mother sent Hogan and a trumpeter up here. Both had seen the whole affair, and Dwight _would_ see them. He never could have rested till he got the facts. We have persuaded him that he must not question his wife, and that French cat says she cannot leave her mistress an instant. He's raging now to see you, and I reckon it's no use trying more sedatives until you are off his mind. Will you come in?" Ray pondered a moment, then, "Go ahead," said he. They found Dwight pacing the floor like a caged and raging lion. He whirled on the two the moment they entered, Wallen vainly preaching self-control and moderation. The misery in the man's face killed the last vestige of Ray's antipathy. It was something indescribable. "Sandy, I'm in hell, but--it's the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth I must have. Did you--before you joined us at the Grand in Naples--did you meet--did you see Mrs. Dwight?" "Yes," said Ray. Dwight halted, resting his shaking hand on the back of a chair, and the shake went down through the back and legs to the very floor. "Where? How?" "In front of Cook's Bank. Mrs. Dwight was in an open carriage; why shouldn't I speak to her?" And the head went up and back, so like his father. "No reason whatever, but why should she lie? Tell me that! Why should she swear that my boy, Margaret's boy, lied? Oh, my God, tell me that!" "Major, Major!" pleaded Wallen, with outstretched hand. "This will never do. This----"