Approaching slowly he spoke a few words half apologetic, half sullen. He would have been glad to arouse a fury, more easy to meet than their calm despair. Stepping forward he unhitched the remaining ox, and promised a prompt and sufficient recompense for their loss. The night was closing in upon them, the distance to the post was great, they must make their camp where they were, and in the morning he and the boy could go for assistance. A busy man that night was Private Austin. He brought a smile to the woman's worn face, he caused the children's merry voices to ring out in the darkness as they drew round the camp-fire. His arms gently shifted the sick man from his hard bed in the wagon to one of gathered leaves and grass that was as down to his tired limbs. He made the girl smile and blush and turn away, only to come again. But a change came over him when all was hushed and silent, when he alone kept watch beside the smoldering campfire. Three times he arose and strode off into the night with his face toward the east, and then turned back. It was well toward morning and the boy Frank lay sleeping beneath the protecting shelter of the wagon-bed, when a heavy hand was placed upon his shoulder and he awoke. Crimson streaks of light told that the day was near. With a finger on his lips as a sign not to disturb the others, Private Austin motioned the lad to follow him. “A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the placard nailed upon the barrack walls. “A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the telegrams that sent out a thrill of greed through the veins of half a score of sleepy sheriffs. “A reward is offered by the government for the return of Private Austin, deserter, late of Company A,” read the colonel in front of the gathered regiment. And then a strange thing happened: across the open space came Private Austin, his hands tied behind him with his own belt, and by his side a half-grown boy with Private Austin's shotgun held in his grasp. To the waiting colonel came the pair. “Colonel, the boy took me. He gets the reward,” said Private Austin. WHAT REARTON SAW REARTON dropped down in the chair I pushed forward. “Can you give me a moment or two?” he asked. “As many as you like,” I answered. “Just wait till I put my name to this—” and I signed the letter before me. He watched me fold and slip it into an envelope, then he said: “I want your opinion on certain matters.” “Come now, Rearton,” I entreated. “Let me off if it's to be another talk on spiritualism!” “Confound it! Why will you persist in calling my beliefs by what to me is the most offensive of names? I recognize the existence of the supernatural. Every intelligent man must.” “Then, praise heaven, I am not intelligent.” “I want to ask you this. How much more than you actually see would you be willing to believe?”