"Oh, some. We've got to have elbow-room. Can't pack two army corps into Osage Court House." "Two a'my co'ps, suh?" "More or less." John Deal balanced the sack in the palm of one work-worn hand and looked hard at the Messenger. He could see only her eyes. [Illustration: "'Turn around,' said the Special Messenger."] "Reckon you ain't the same trooper as come yesterday." "No." "What might be yoh regiment?" The Messenger was looking hard at the beehives. The door of one of the hives, a new one, was shut. "What regiment did you say, suh?" repeated Deal, showing his teeth in a friendly grin; and suddenly froze rigid as he found himself inspecting the round, smoky muzzle of a six-shooter. "Turn around," said the Special Messenger. Her voice was even and passionless. John Deal turned. "Cross your hands behind your back. Quickly, please! Now back up to this horse. Closer!" There was a glimmer, a click; and the man stood handcuffed. "Sit down on the grass with your back against that tree. Make yourself comfortable." Deal squatted awkwardly, settled, and turned a pallid face to the Messenger. "What'n hell's this mean?" he demanded. "Don't move and don't shout," said the Messenger. "If you do I'll have to gag you. I'm only going over there to take a look at your bees." The pallor on the man's face was dreadful, but he continued to stare at the Messenger coolly enough. "It's a damned outrage!" he began thickly. "I had a pass from your Colonel----" "If you don't keep quiet I'll have to tie up your face," observed the Messenger, dismounting and flinging aside her cloak. Then, as she walked toward the little row of beehives, carrying only her riding whip, the farmer's eyes grew round and a dull flush empurpled his face and neck. "By God!" he gasped; "it's _her_!" and said not another word. She advanced cautiously toward the hives; very carefully, with the butt of her whip, she closed the sliding door over every exit, then seated herself in the grass within arm's length of the hives and, crossing her spurred boots, leaned forward, expectant, motionless. A bee arrived, plunder-laden, dropped on the sill and began to walk toward the closed entrance of his hive. Finding it blocked, the insect buzzed angrily. Another bee whizzed by her and lit on the sill of another hive; another came, another, and another. Very gingerly, as each insect alighted, she raised the sliding door and let it enter. Deal watched her, fascinated. An hour passed; she had admitted hundreds of bees, always closing the door behind each new arrival. Then something darted through the range of her vision and alighted, buzzing awkwardly on the sill of a hive--an ordinary, yellow-brown honey bee, yet differing from the others in that its thighs seemed to be snow-white. Quick as a flash the Messenger leaned forward and caught the insect in her gloved fingers, holding it by the wings flat over the back.