"No, I ain't, now you speak of it. She went out with that kid over there, and he came back alone. Don't believe he 's danced any since. The Major was here, though; Connors brought him a note a few minutes ago, and he got his hat and went out." Hamlin drew a breath of relief. "Girl must have sent for him to take her home," he said. "Well, it 's time for me to turn in--good-night, old man." He tramped along the brightly illumined street, and out upon the dark road leading up the bluff to the fort, his mind occupied with the events of the evening, and those other incidents leading up to them. There was no doubt that Miss McDonald and her father had returned to their home. But what could he do to assist her? The very knowledge that she had voluntarily appealed to him, that she had come to him secretly with her trouble, brought strange happiness. Moreover his former acquaintance with Mrs. Dupont gave him a clue to the mystery. Yet how was he going to unravel the threads, discover the motive, find out the various conspirators? What were they really after? Money probably, but possibly revenge. What did the woman know which enabled her to wield such influence over McDonald? What was the trap they proposed springing? The Sergeant felt that he could solve these problems if given an opportunity, but he was handicapped by his position; he could not leave his troop, could not meet or mingle with the suspected parties; was tied, hand and foot, by army discipline. He could not even absent himself from the post without gaining special permission. He swore to himself over the hopelessness of the situation, as he tramped through the blackness toward the guard-house. The sentinel glanced at his pass, scrutinizing it by the light of a fire, and thrust the paper into his pocket. Hamlin advanced, and at the corner saluted the officer of the day, who had just stepped out of the guard-house door. "Good evening, Sergeant," the latter said genially. "Just in from town? I expect they are having some dance down there to-night." "Yes, sir," hesitatingly, and then venturing the inquiry. "May I ask if Major McDonald has returned to the post?" "McDonald? No," he glanced at his watch. "He had orders to go east to Ripley on the stage. That was due out about an hour ago." "To Ripley? By stage?" the Sergeant repeated the words, dazed. "Why--why, what has become of Miss McDonald?" The officer smiled, shaking his head. "I 'm sure I don't know, my man," he returned carelessly. "Come back with Barrett and his lady-love, likely. Why?" suddenly interested by the expression on the other's face. "What's happened? Is there anything wrong?" CHAPTER XXII A DEEPENING MYSTERY