Yes; it was true. It was from Washington, and signed by the
adjutant-general; it informed Don Miguel José Farrel, with regret, that
his son, First Sergeant Miguel José Maria Federico Noriaga Farrel,
Number 765,438, had been killed in action in Siberia on the fourth
instant.

"At least," the old don murmured, "he died like a gentleman. Had he
returned to the Rancho Palomar, he could not have continued to live
like one. Oh, my son, my son!"

He rose blindly and groped his way along the wall until he came to the
inset gate leading into the patio; like a stricken animal retreating to
its lair, he sought the privacy of his old-fashioned garden, where none
might intrude upon his grief.




II

First Sergeant Michael Joseph Farrel entered the orderly-room and saluted
his captain, who sat, with his chair tilted back, staring mournfully at
the opposite wall.

"I have to report, sir, that I have personally delivered the battery
records, correctly sorted, labeled, and securely crated, to the
demobilization office. The typewriter, field-desk, and stationery have
been turned in, and here are the receipts."

The captain tucked the receipts in his blouse pocket.