Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1889-10-13

land;" it would have Jared him to know
that she was wife; he was happy, kneel.
ing by the side of the beautiful g he
had never seen before that evening, and
delighted that he could be of service to
her. All this was retrospect worth in
dulging; but then arose the black shadow
| on his vision. How came DR.. Quin
striding in there as though ''native and
to the manner born?'-how came he to
call her "Gladys?" Perry had been
bordering over this matter for full half
an hour on the homeward ride before he
bethought him of Mrs. Lawrences re-
marks about the signal lights. One
thing led to another in his recollection Of
her talk. The doctor answered the sig
mails, no one else; the doctor and no one
else was received at Dunraven:. the doc
tor had declined to answer any questions
about the people at the ranch; had been
silent and mysterious, yet frequent in
| his visits. And then, more than all,
what was that Mrs. Lawrence said or in
timated that Mrs. Quin, ''such lovely
woman, too" had taken her children and
left him early that spring, and all on &C
count of somebody or something con-
nected with Dunraven Ranch? Good
heavens! 1t could not be "Gladys."
And yet
Instead Of taking bath and going to
bed, Mr.. Perry poked his head into
| Parke's bachelor chamber as he reached
the little cottage they shared in common.
No Gladys disturbed the junior dreams.
apparently, for he was breathing regu-
larly, sleeping the sleep of the just; and
SO, finding no one to talk to and being in
no mood to go to bed at an hour so COM
paratively early when he had SO much to
think about, Perry filed a pipe and
perched himself in big chair by the
window seat, intending to think it all
over again. He was beginning to hate
that doctor; he would have chafed at the
idea of any bachelors being before him
in an acquaintance with Gladys Maitland,
but married man knowing her SO well
q 70 roase rs vie lealous and himself
ioa,de r.Dl . da5 ,3ct-knowing her so
we'll IS 20 drive ''sl1ch q lovely woman,
too" into taking her children and quit
ting the marital roof-that was too much
of bad thing. and Perry was sore dis.
comfted. He got up, impatient and rest
less, passed out to the little piazza in
front OF his quarters, and began pacing
up and down, the glow from his corncob
pipe making Il fiery trail in the darkness.
He would have been glad to so back to
the colonel and keep watch with him;
but there was one thing connected with
his visit to Dunraven that he could not
bear to speak Of, especially as those
words of Mrs. Lawrence required again
and again to his memory. He had not
said one word-he did not want to tell
of Gladys Maitland.
And SO it happened that Perry, too,
was awake and astir when the footsteps
of the cavalry sergeant were heard on
their way to Capt. Stryker's quarters.
Listening, he noted that the soldier had
halted at the coloners, held a brief con-
versation with that officer, and then
turned back across the parade. Instant
ly divining that news had come Of Sergt.
Gwynne, Perry seized his forage cap and
hurried in pursuit. He overlook the
trooper Just beyond the guard house and
went with him eagerly to the stables. A
moment more, and he was bending over
soldiers bedside in little room adioin-
ing the forage shed and by the light of a
dim stable lantern looking down into this
bruised and battered features of the non
commissioned officer, whom he had pro-
nounced of all others at Rossiter the
most respected and highly thought of by
the cavalry garrison.
Sergeant, I'm very sorry to see you
SO badly mauled," said Perry. ''How on
earth did it happen?'
Gwynne turned his head painfully until
the one unbandaged eye could look about
and see that none of the stable guard
were within hearing, then back again and
70 irto tie Sympathetic FACE Of his young
Superior
Lieutenant, I must tell YOU and the
captain; and yet it is matter l pro-
foundry wish to keep as secret as pos
sible-the story Of my day S adventure, l
mean"
"You need not tell me as all if you do
not wish to- said Perry; though
think it is due to yourself that the cap.
tain should know how it was you were
gone all day and that your horse and you
both came back in such condition"
Il understand, sir, fully" answered
Gwynne, respectfully. 81 shall tell the
captain the whole story, if he so desire.
Meantime, can only ask that no one
else be told. If the men in the troop had
an mixing of the true story there would
be endless tsouhle; and SO l have tried t.
account for it by saying my horse and
had an ugly fab while running coyot,
through the timber. We did see a co.
vote, down near the ranch on the Monee
and did have an ugly fall: | was set
upon by three OF those ranchmen and
badly handled"
Yes, damn them" said Perry. e1-
cltedly and wrathfully. I've had an
experience with them myself tonight,
while we were searching for you"
80 much the more reason, sir, why
my mishap should not be told among the
men. The two affairs combined would
be more than they would stand. There
are enough Irishmen here in our troop
alone to so down and wipe that ranch
out or existence; and / fear trouble as it
stands"
Whether there viii be trouble or not
viii depend very much On the future
conduct Of the proprietor and manager
down there Of COURSE we cannon .nI