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The young man laughed and turned to go. "Why doesn't Ned Ferry make her let Gholson alone? He can do it; he's got her round his finger as tight as she's got Gholson round hers."

I almost leaped from the ground in consternation. My whole frame throbbed, my mouth fell open, my tongue was tied.

She backed half a step, and quite needlessly I let it go. Then she bade me not forget I had promised her the words of a certain song. "Want them? Indeed, yes! Did you not say it was an unpublished song written by a messmate of yours?--oh, Mr. Smith! I see why you stammer! You said 'a member of your mess'! oh!--oh!--oh!--you wrote it, yourself! And you wrote it to-day! That explains--" She drew an awesome breath, rose to her toes and knit her knuckles under her throat.

"I am but human."

"Who don't belong to Ferry's scouts at all," I still more sweetly added.

"Why, I keep the plain road, don't I?"

"You have no carbine," said my commander. "And you have but one revolver; here is another."

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