"You--you knew the soldier?"

"Knew him? Yes," speaking almost unconsciously, his incredulous eyes
still on the inscription, as though fearful it might vanish. "That man
was either my best friend, or my worst enemy; under heaven, I know not
which. Why, it is like a miracle, the finding of this bag out here in
the desert. It is the clue I have been searching after for nearly five
years." He seemed to pull himself together with an effort, realizing
her presence. "Excuse me, Miss McDonald, but this thing knocked me
silly. I hardly knew what I was saying."

"It means much to you? To your life?"

"Everything, if I can only trace it back, and thus discover the present
whereabouts of the original owner."

"Was that your regiment, then--the Fourth Texas Infantry?"

He bowed his head, now looking frankly at her.

"Would you mind telling me your rank?"

"I became Captain of 'B' Company after the fight at Chancellorsville;
we served in Virginia under Massa Robert, and lost every commissioned
officer in that affair." He hesitated to go on, but she prompted him
by a question:

"And then what? What was it that happened? Don't be afraid to tell
me."