Thus did the sunny-humored Sergeant take it, but not thus the mess. Had Augustus seen himself as they saw him, could he have heard Mrs. Starr--But he did not; the youth was impervious, and to remove his complacency would require (so Mrs. Starr said) an operation, probably fatal. The commanding officer held always aloof from gibing, yet often when Augustus passed him his gray eye would dwell upon the Lieutenant's back, and his voiceless laugh would possess him. That is the picture I retain of these days--the unending golden sun, the wide, gentle-colored plain, the splendid mountains, the Indians ambling through the flat, clear distance; and here, close along the parade-ground, eye-glassed Augustus, neatly hastening, with the Captain on his porch, asleep you might suppose. One early morning the agent, with two Indian chiefs, waited on the commanding officer, and after their departure his wife found him breakfasting in solitary mirth. “Without me,” she chided, sitting down. “And I know you've had some good news.” “The best, my love. Providence has been tempted at last. The wholesome irony of life is about to function.” “Frank, don't tease so! And where are you rushing now before the cakes?” “To set our Augustus a little military problem, dearest. Plain living for to-day, and high thinking be jolly well--” “Frank, you're going to swear, and I must know!” But Frank had sworn and hurried out to the right to the Adjutant's office, while his Catherine flew to the left to the fence. “Ella!” she cried. “Oh, Ella!” Mrs. Bainbridge, instantly on the other side of the fence, brought scanty light. A telegram had come, she knew, from the Crow Agency in Montana. Her husband had admitted this three nights ago; and Captain Duane (she knew) had given him some orders about something; and could it be the Crows? “Ella, I don't know,” said Catherine. “Frank talked all about Providence in his incurable way, and it may be anything.” So the two ladies wondered together over the fence, until Mrs. Duane, seeing the Captain return, ran to him and asked, were the Crows on the war-path? Then her Frank told her yes, and that he had detailed Albumblatt to vanquish them and escort them to Carlisle School to learn German and Beethoven's sonatas. “Stuff, stuff, stuff! Why, there he does go!” cried the unsettled Catherine. “It's something at the Agency!” But Captain Duane was gone into the house for a cigar.