4, and sending the big water
wagon down to the stream for another liquid load, the infantry went
back to their barracks and early coffee. The drenched blankets, one by
one, were stripped from the gable end of Truman's quarters, every
square inch of the paint thereon being now a patch of tiny blisters,
and there, as the dawn broadened and the pallid light took on again a
tinge of rose, the officers gathered about Blakely in his scorched and
soaked pyjamas, extending both condolence and congratulation.
"The question is, Blakely," remarked Captain Westervelt dryly, "will
you go to Frisco to refit now, or wait till Congress reimburses?"
whereat the scientist was observed to smile somewhat ruefully. "The
question is, Bugs," burst in young Doty irrepressibly, "will you wear
this rig, or Apache full dress, when you ride after Wren? The runners
start at six," whereat even the rueful smile was observed to vanish,
and without answer Blakely turned away, stepping gingerly into the
heated sand with his bare white feet.
"Don't bother about dousing anything else, sergeant," said he
presently, to the soldier supervising the work of the bucket squad.
"The iron box should be under what's left of my desk--about there,"
and he indicated a charred and steaming heap, visible through a gap in
the doubly baked adobe that had once been the side window.
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