Already the post had learned the news from the band and the verandas
of the enlisted men overflowed with delighted troopers. From the
stables and the ball field came the sound of hurrying feet, and a
tumult of cheers and cowboy yells. Across the parade-ground the
regimental band bore down upon Ranson's hut, proclaiming to the
garrison that there would be a hot time in the old town that night.
But Sergeant Clancey ran to meet the bandmaster, and shouted in his
ear. "He's going to marry Mary Cahill," he cried. "I heard him tell
the colonel's wife. Play 'Just Because She Made Them Goo-goo Eyes.'"

"Like hell!" cried the bandmaster, indignantly, breaking in on the
tune with his baton. "I know my business! Now, then, men," he
commanded, "'I'll Leave My Happy Home for You.'"

As Mrs. Bolland dragged Miss Cahill into view of the assembled
troopers Ranson pulled his father-in-law into a far corner of the
room. He shook the written confession in his face.

"Now, will you kindly tell me what that means?" he demanded. "What
sort of a gallery play were you trying to make?"

Cahill shifted his sombrero guiltily. "I was trying to get you out of
the hole," he stammered. "I--I thought you done it."

"You thought I done it!"

"Sure. I never thought nothing else."

"Then why do you say here that YOU did it?"