The day was one of arduous duties, but with nightfall came a period of rest. More, some of the regulars in each company, troop or battery were granted town leave. There was a trolley line near at hand that carried many a pleasure-loving regular into town. Corporals Overton and Terry went by themselves. "As we have never seen Denver, I guess it will be about enough for us to look around and see what we can of the town, won't it?" proposed Hal. "Yes; if we keep to the main streets. I feel as though I may want to squander a bit of my pay on ice cream and such frothy trifles," returned Noll. "We won't spend it, anyway, on anything that will make us forget the limits of our leave and turn delinquents," returned Hal. "Small danger of that," retorted Corporal Terry. "That game doesn't go with the making of good soldiers." "I don't believe Captain Cortland will have any delinquents to deal with this time," predicted Hal. "He doesn't intend to have the Mason City business done over again." Denver proved full of delights to these soldier boys, who had really seen very little of the world. But, being under orders to return to camp not later than midnight, the time came when they must think of getting back. "I wonder what's the quickest way to the trolley line?" pondered Noll. "We'll ask our way," Hal answered. They had no trouble in getting clear directions from a passing citizen. The shortest way led down through a narrow street that appeared to belong to a rough part of the city. "I wouldn't care to live on this street," smiled Noll. "Hardly," agreed Hal. "Yet I guess it won't hurt us any just to walk through." Ere the soldier boys had gone more than two blocks their attention was attracted by sounds of a commotion in a crowd just ahead. A crowd had started to collect, and was every moment increasing in size. "Wonder what's up?" murmured Noll Terry, as the soldier boys quickened their pace. "Some earthquake in the under world, I suppose," returned Hal. Just then the scream of a woman's voice reached them. "Shame! shame!" cried half a dozen male voices in protest. Then the same voice sounded, in sobs this time. Hal Overton had broken into a run, and Noll was almost at his side. The soldier boys pushed their way into the crowd. A brutish, square-jawed young fellow of twenty-one or twenty-two, dressed loudly, and with an ill-smelling cigar between his teeth at one side of his mouth, held a sobbing girl by the wrist. "Cut out the boo-hoo story, Lizzie, and come along with me to the dance," he ordered gruffly. "I don't want to go," faltered the terrified girl. "You know well enough, Bill, that my mother don't want me going to dances with you." "What's your old woman got against me?" demanded the young brute. "You know well enough, Bill, that mother don't like you, and that she'd sooner see me dead than running around with you."