Aiken took so long to reply that I stopped studying the remarkable costume of the Major and turned to Aiken. I was surprised to see that he was unquestionably frightened. His eyes were shifting and blinking, and he wet his lips with his tongue. All his self-assurance had deserted him. The officer who had led us to the camp was also aware of Aiken’s uneasiness, and was regarding him with a sneer. For some reason the spectacle of Aiken’s distress seemed to afford him satisfaction. “I should prefer to report to General Laguerre,” Aiken said, at last. “I am in command here,” Reeder answered, sharply. “General Laguerre is absent--reconnoitering. I represent him. I know all about Mr. Quay’s mission. It was I who recommended him to the General. Where are the guns?” For a moment Aiken stared at him helplessly, and then drew in a quick breath. “I don’t know where they are,” he said. “The Panama arrived two days ago, but when I went to unload the guns Captain Leeds told me they had been seized in New Orleans by the Treasury Department. Someone must have--” Both Major Reeder and the officer interrupted with a shout of anger. “Then it’s true!” Reeder cried. “It’s true, and--and--you dare to tell us so!” Aiken raised his head and for a moment looked almost defiant. “Why shouldn’t I tell you?” he demanded, indignantly. “Who else was there to tell you? I’ve travelled two days to let you know. I can’t help it if the news isn’t good. I’m just as sorry as you are.” The other officer was a stout, yellow-haired German. He advanced a step and shook a soiled finger in Aiken’s face. “You can’t help it, can’t you?” he cried. “You’re sorry, are you? You won’t be sorry when you’re paid your money, will you? How much did you get for us, hey! How much did Joe Fiske--” Reeder threw out his arm and motioned the officer back. “Silence, Captain Heinze,” he commanded. The men of the Legion who had happened to be standing near the tent when we appeared had come up to look at the new arrivals, and when they heard two of their officers attacking Aiken they crowded still closer in front of us, forming a big half-circle. Each of them apparently was on a footing with his officers of perfect comradeship, and listened openly to what was going forward as though it were a personal concern of his own. They had even begun to discuss it among themselves, and made so much noise in doing so that Captain Heinze passed on Reeder’s rebuke as though it had been intended for them, commanding, “Silence in the ranks.” They were not in ranks, and should not have been allowed where they were in any formation, but that did not seem to occur to either of the officers. “Silence,” Reeder repeated. “Now, Mr. Aiken, I am waiting. What have you to say?” “What is there for me to say?” Aiken protested. “I have done all I could. I told you as soon as I could get here.” Major Reeder drew close to Aiken and pointed his outstretched hand at him.