“No,” Hemingway was obliged to confess. To tell the truth, he had deemed it rather smart to set at liberty one whom he supposed to be merely a victim of the adjutant’s ill humor; but now doubts began to assail him. Hastily he caught up the record of offenders for the day, and noted the charge entered opposite the name of Simmons; then fell back, with a little gasp. “Attempted murder!” he exclaimed. “Here, corporal! Sergeant! Somebody! Hustle over to barracks, and bring back that man Simmons we had here a while ago.” But, as might have been expected, the bird had flown; and, although a squad was instantly ordered out to search the city for him, and the police were put upon the case, both Hemingway and Grail knew that with so much of a start the chances of catching him were very slim indeed. The culpable lieutenant, court-martial staring him in the face, started to stammer some wild excuses; but Grail merely turned on his heel, and marched off to his quarters. He had scored heavily over one of his enemies, but he gathered little gratification from the fact. He would have preferred a chance to question Simmons. CHAPTER VI. THE HAPPIEST GIRL. Under the circumstances, there seemed to be nothing for Grail to do but await with what patience he could muster the return of Sergeant Cato; and as the afternoon slipped away with no report from the latter, he threw himself on a couch in the office at headquarters and presently drifted off into a dose. Worn out by his exertions, the strain he had been under, and his loss of sleep the night before, he was soon wrapped in a profound slumber; and, as nothing happened to disturb him, five o’clock still found him sleeping heavily. Meanwhile, the train from Chicago, bearing the distressed daughter of the commandant, had arrived, and Major Appleby, who had gone down to meet her, could only return a gloomy shake of the head to the unspoken question of her wide, trouble-filled eyes. “Don’t ask me anything now, my dear,” he said, in a low tone. “We are trying to keep the matter quiet for the present, and you can’t tell who might overhear us in this crowd. As soon as we get outside, though, you shall learn all there is to know. Mrs. Schilder is waiting for us in her car, and wants to take you to her home.” “Mrs. Schilder?” The girl’s lips parted in a little gasp of surprise, for she had only a very slight acquaintance with the wife of the foundry manager. “Yes,” the major explained. “Mrs. Appleby and I would have been delighted to have you with us, but it seemed preferable that you should not be at the fort, where you would be kept constantly upset by all sorts of unfounded rumors. So, as Mrs. Schilder pointed out that you would probably be more comfortable in her home than anywhere else, we accepted her invitation on your behalf.”