"No, yer not; could n't no man be sorry to have a girl like that take an interest in him. 'T ain't in human nature. What did yer tell her about me?" "Tell her!" surprised. "Why, I only advised her to hang close to you if anything happened. I didn't exactly like the style of the Lieutenant." "Thet's wat I thought. Well, she's done it, though thet has n't pried her loose from Gaskins. He 's hauntin' her like a shadow. It 's garrison talk they 're engaged, but I ain't so sure 'bout thet. She an' I hev got to be pretty good friends, though, o' course, it's strictly on the quiet. I ain't got no invite to officers' row yit. She 's asked me a lot 'bout you." "Interesting topic." "Well, I reckon as how she thinks it is, enyhow. Yesterday she asked me 'bout thet scrimmage yer hed down on the Canadian. She 'd heerd 'bout it somehow, an' wanted the story straight. So I told her all I knowed, an' yer oughter seed her eyes shine while I wus sorter paintin' it up." "Oh, hell; let's drop it," disgustedly. "The Lieutenant here yet?" "Sure; his company is down on Monument, but he got special detail. He 's got a pull, Gaskins has." "How is that?" "His old man is Senator, or something, an' they say, has scads o' money. Enyway, the kid finds the army a soft snap. First scoutin' detail he ever had when you met him. Did n't hunt no danger then, so fur as I could see. Nice little dude, with a swelled head, but popular with the ladies. I reckon McDonald ain't objectin' none to his chasin' after Miss Molly; thet's why he 's let her stay in this God-forsaken place so long. Well, 'Brick,' I reckon I 've told all the news, and hed better move 'long." "Hold on a minute, Sam," and Hamlin, suddenly recalled to earth, reached for the haversack hanging on the iron bedpost. "Moylan, the fellow who was killed in the coach with us, had this bag. According to Miss McDonald, he bought it here just before starting on the trip. See this inscription; those are the initials of an old acquaintance of mine I 'd like to trace. Any idea where Moylan found it?" Wasson held the bag to the light studying the letters. "Fourth Texas--hey? That your regiment?" The Sergeant nodded, his lips tightly pressed together. "Must hev come from Dutch Charlie's outfit," the scout went on slowly. "He picks up all that sorter truck." "Where is that?" "In town thar, under the bluff. We 'll look it up to-morrow." CHAPTER XIV UNDER ARREST