Bringing Barbara among so many lonely youngsters who hadn't expected to see a girl until emigrant trains started coming through in the spring created a situation which had all the explosive potentialities of a match held too near an open powder keg and was, at the same time, amusing. Wood was the fuel used at Laramie, but Joe hadn't had to cut or carry any. The wood box was always filled, and at least five times a day some youngster who had elected to wear his country's uniform dropped in to see if the Towers didn't need any more. The water pails invariably brimmed over, and they were always full because the men of Laramie had decided that nothing but the freshest water was good enough. When Barbara went to the sutler's store, she was always attended by an escort large enough to form a good-sized patrol and she could not carry even the smallest parcel back. Every evening, until Emma shooed them out, their quarters overflowed with soldiers eager to do anything at all as long as they could be near Barbara. Joe did not worry about her; any soldier who offered an insolent remark, or even an insolent look, to Barbara, would have been overwhelmed by a sufficient number of her protectors. But, aside from the fact that Joe wanted to winter at Snedeker's and not at Laramie, the affair had its more serious aspects. Only last night Privates Haggerty and Jankoski, vying for the honor of walking closest to Barbara when she went to the store, had left each other with blackened eyes and bleeding noses and they'd promptly been clapped into the guardhouse for their pains. Probably there would be other fights; Joe understood that Private Brown did not gaze with a kindly eye on Corporal Lester. Lester had filled the water pails just as Brown was on his way to do it. Joe chuckled out loud. Sitting across the breakfast table from him, Emma raised an inquiring eye. "I was thinking of those two crazy kids, Haggerty and Jankoski, and the fight they had over Bobby last night," he explained. "Sh-h." Emma nodded toward the bedroom in which Barbara still slept. "She'll hear you." Joe lowered his voice. "I didn't mean to talk so loud. It looks to me, if we don't get Bobby out of here, as though the Army will be at war with itself." "Yes, dear," Emma smiled abstractedly and Joe saw that her mind was elsewhere. He leaned back in his chair, looking idly at his empty plate. Then he rose to get his coat. "Are you going out?" Emma asked. "Yes. I'm getting the wagon back into shape." Emma asked casually, "Joe, do you know anything about this young man, Hugo Gearey?" Joe shrugged. "I've seen him around." "But you don't know where he came from?" He was a little surprised. "Why should I?" "Can you find out?" "Now look, I can't just walk up to Gearey and ask him where he comes from and what he did there." "You might," she pointed out, "ask Sergeant Dugan or Sergeant Dunbar." He looked closely at her. "Why do you want to know about Gearey, Emma?"