Then Landor remembered for the first time that there was a back door to Brewster's quarters and to the commissary. He crept over to the commissary and tried the door gently. It was fast locked. Then he went to the window. It was a low one, on a level with his chest, with wide-apart iron bars. He ran his hand between them now, and, doubling his fist, broke a pane with a sudden blow. As the glass crashed in, he grasped the gray blanket and drew it back. Brewster was standing in front of the open safe, the package of bids in his hands, and the big rancher was beside him holding a candle and shading it with his palm. They had both turned, and were staring, terror-eyed, at the bleeding hand that held back the blanket. "Can you see, Ellton?" Landor asked in his restrained, even voice. He evidently meant that there should be no more noise about this than necessary, that the post should know nothing of it. "I can see, sir," the lieutenant answered. Then Landor spoke to the commissary officer. "You will oblige me, Mr. Brewster, by returning those bids to the safe and by opening the door for me." He dropped the blanket, drew back his cut hand, warm and wet with blood, and wrapped it in a handkerchief very deliberately, as he waited. Presently the front door opened. The commissary officer evidently had all the keys. Landor and Ellton, who were commandant and adjutant as well, went through the close-smelling storeroom, which reeked with codfish and coffee, into the office. The citizen was still there, still holding the candle and shading it, scared out of the little wits he had at the best of times. He was too frightened as yet to curse Brewster and the wary scoundrel back in Arizona, who had set him on to tampering with the military, and had put up the funds to that end--a small risk for a big gain. Landor pointed to him. "Who is this?" he asked. Brewster told him. "It is Mr. Lawton, of the Circle K Ranch." "What is he doing here?" "He was helping me." "Helping you to do what?" "To get out the bids." His courage was waxing a little. "For what purpose?" went on the cross questions. "To take them over to my quarters and keep them safe." "Yes?" said Landor. The inflection was not pleasing. It caused Brewster to answer somewhat weakly, "Yes." "Do you think, sir, that you could tell that to twelve officers and make them believe it?" Brewster was silent, but he neither flinched nor cowered, nor yet shifted his eyes. Landor turned to the citizen. "Where is your bid, Mr. Lawton?" "I ain't put it in yet," he stammered feebly. "Don't put it in, then. Leave the reservation to-night. You understand me, do you? Now go!" Lawton set down the candle upon the desk, and crept away by the rear door. After he had gone, Landor turned to Brewster once more. "Are all the bids in the safe again?" They were. "Is it closed?" It was. "Give me the keys--all the keys." He handed them over.