"If! But we all know he can't. Worst I ever saw, must have originally been a sailor." He slowly refilled his pipe. "Now, see here, Dan, it's your daughter that's to be looked after, and therefore I want you to size this man up for yourself. I don't pretend to know anything about him, only he looks like a soldier, and they must think well of him at Union." McDonald nodded, but without enthusiasm; then dropped his head into his hands. In the silence a coyote howled mournfully not far away; then a shadow appeared on the log step, the light of the candle flashing on a row of buttons. "This is the man, sir," said the orderly, and stood aside to permit the other to enter. CHAPTER II "BRICK" HAMLIN The two officers looked up with some eagerness, McDonald straightening in his chair, and returning the cavalryman's salute instinctively, his eyes expressing surprise. He was a straight-limbed fellow, slenderly built, and appearing taller than he really was by reason of his erect, soldierly carriage; thin of waist, broad of chest, dressed in rough service uniform, without jacket, just as he had rolled out of the saddle, rough shirt open at the throat, patched, discolored trousers, with broad yellow stripe down the seam, stuck into service riding boots, a revolver dangling at his left hip, and a soft hat, faded sadly, crushed in one hand. The Major saw all this, yet it was at the man's uncovered face he gazed most intently. He looked upon a countenance browned by sun and alkali, intelligent, sober, heavily browed, with eyes of dark gray rather deeply set; firm lips, a chin somewhat prominent, and a broad forehead, the light colored hair above closely trimmed; the cheeks were darkened by two days' growth of beard. McDonald unclosed, then clenched his hand. "You are from Fort Union, Captain Travers tells me?" "Yes, sir," the reply slow, deliberate, as though the speaker had no desire to waste words. "I brought despatches; they were delivered to Captain Travers." "Yes, I know; but I may require you for other service. What were your orders?" "To return at convenience." "Good. I know Hawley, and do not think he would object. What is your regiment?" "Seventh Cavalry." "Oh, yes, just organized; before that?" "The Third." "I see you are a non-com--corporal?" "Sergeant, sir, since my transfer." "Second enlistment?" "No, first in the regulars--the Seventh was picked from other commands." "I understand. You say first in the regulars. Does that mean you saw volunteer service?" "Three years, sir." "Ah!" his eyes brightening instantly. "Then how does it happen you failed to try for a commission after the war? You appear to be intelligent, educated?" The Sergeant smiled. "Unfortunately my previous service had been performed in the wrong uniform, sir," he said quietly. "I was in a Texas regiment." There was a moment's silence, during which Travers smoked, and the Major seemed to hesitate. Finally the latter asked: