The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1898-11-01

letter."
ing sadly at her side. Mrs. Faulkner
nodded assent TO the question, but
glanced significantly at the passersby,
on their way seemingly to the house the
elders had just left. Mrs. Blythe bowed
courteously and smiled, but the smile
was one of those half hearted attempts
that seemed to wither instantly at Mrs.
Frazier's solemn and distant salutation.
''Now what's that woman taking
Ada Lawrence there for?" was Mrs.
Frazier's query the instant the two
were out of earshot, and for the mo-
ment she forgot the letter and the sig
nificant glance in Mrs. Faulkner's eyes
But Mrs. Brooks had not, and no sooner
had the door of Barclay s quarters open
ed and swallowed up the new callers
than the major wife turned back to it.
"You don't mean letter from
him?" she asked, with nod of the
head at Barclays quarters
II didn t mean to say anything about
it, said Mrs. Faulkner with proper
hesitation, "but you seem to know as
much as do, and she made no secret
of it whatever Indeed l don't know
that there's anything in it that any body
mightn't see. -
II think she has no business what
ever receiving letters now that her hus-
bands away-nor any other time, for
that matter" said Mrs. Frazier holly,
"and mean to tell her SO, and I'm as.
tonished at him. -
''For heavens sake dom It tell her
let it out, % exclaimed Mrs. Faulkner.
"You'ye just got to say you saw it
away from his door,"
Well, think the sooner Mr.. Harry
Winn gets back the better it will be
for this garrison, and I'll say so to
Colonel Frazier this very night ex-
claimed the colonel's wife, bristling
with proper Indignation "And he'll
come back if we have to send couriers
to order him"
But no courier was needed to sum-
mon Lieutenant VIM. Two days later.
fast as jaded horse could carry him, fol-
lowed by a single orderly, he was COM
ing, full Of hope and pluck and en-.
thusiasm, the bearer of tidings that
meant SO much to him, that might be
portion at least Of the serious stoppages
against his pay. Away out in the
Apache mountains, where the remnants
of the Friday gang seemed to have scat
tered into little squads of two or three,
one party had been trailed and chased
to its hole, wild nook in the rocks,
and there in brief, bloody fight two
more of the gang bit the dust in reach
ing that height Of outlaw ambition,
dying with their boots on" Others
were wounded and captured, and still
another, neither wounded nor combat
ant. but trembling skulker, was drag
ged out from cleft in among the
powders and kicked into the presence
OF the commanding officer by burly
Irishman who would have lost the bliss
of dozen pay day sprees rather than
that one achievement, for the skulking
captive was Marsden, and Marsden was
English.
A more abject, pitiable, helpless
wretch even Texan troopers had never
seen. Imploring his captors to protect
him against the illimitable possibilities
of lynch iaw-for there were veteran
soldiers present to whose thinking
drumhead court martial and summary
execution were all too good for Marsden
the ex-sergeant told the story Of his
stealings and the names Of his accom-
plices, but declared that all his ill gotten
gains were gone. Every cent he had at
the time Of his flight was taken from
him, he protested, by the gang Of des-
peradoes among whom he had found
refuge.
He's lyin, sorr," declared Sergeant
Shaughnessy at this juncture. "He's
hidin the hoith Of it somewheres. an