reluctantly admitting by implication yet another defeat for me.

“Of course I know that you must have kept in communication with her — though how you did so I do not know.”

The Siwanois smiled slyly.

“Who is she? What is she, Mayaro? Is she, after all, but a camp-gypsy of the better class? I can not believe it — yet — she roves the world in tatters, haunting barracks and camps. Can you not tell me something concerning her?”

The Indian made no reply.

“Has she made you promise not to?’

He did not answer, but I saw very plainly that this was so.

Mystified,