Down in the depths of the chest, among a roll of clothing, carefully covered, but just as described in Hastings's letter, was found a leather writing-case. "Lock the chest again," said Leonard, as this was handed to him. "That is all we mean to disturb." And then he took the case to the office, while the old trooper went to tell his captain what had happened. Morning brought, as was to be expected, a letter from Devers protesting against this new indignity. No property of his officers or men should have been opened save in his presence, as he was but temporarily suspended from his functions, and as to him the men would look for the security of their effects. Lying in wait for Leonard as he returned from the office, Devers demanded to be told what had been taken from the sergeant's chest, and then went white as chalk when Leonard calmly answered, "Certain stolen property, sir, including a map and some written memoranda which will be required before the court-martial that meets next week."
But this was not all that was found in Brannan's case, the lock of which had long since been forced. There was a valuable gold watch presented to Chaplain Davies by the officers and men of his brigade at the close of the war. There were letters which Leonard barely glanced at,—some silly, sentimental trash addressed to some one's darling Bertie by his devoted Mira. All this, opened in presence of a regimental comrade and certified to by him, was replaced, carefully sealed, and then the case was locked in the commissary safe. "That goes with me to Omaha Monday next," said Leonard to the much-mystified officer, "and you may be needed to corroborate my testimony. Keep all this to yourself."
And, despite a vigorous cross-questioning, the youngster managed to hold his own against even Captain Devers, whose suspicions, however, were now fully aroused, and who obtained permission from Colonel Stone to visit the telegraph-office at Braska, and there wired to a legal friend in Omaha and to certain addresses in Washington, and on Friday came telegraphic instructions permitting Captain Devers, for the purpose of consulting with his counsel, to repair to Omaha at once, and he took the midnight train. On Monday, as required, Leonard left, taking his prizes with him, and on Wednesday the court met, with all but two members present. Colonel Atherton inquired of the judge-advocate if he were ready to proceed to business, and that officer replied that he was, but that certain witnesses were still to arrive and the accused did not seem to be in the building. A messenger to the hotel brought back word that the captain breakfasted there that morning, had paid his bill and gone out, his baggage being taken away by an expressman. This strange news fluttered about from room to room at the headquarters building. The members of the court fidgeted in their full-dress uniforms and smoked and chatted and strolled about, calling on old acquaintances, and the adjutant-general sent orderlies to and fro with inquiries.
And then came the sensation of the year among military circles in the old frontier department. The grave, dignified, soldierly chief of staff appeared at the court-room door with a telegraphic despatch in his twitching fingers. "Gentlemen," said he, "your services in this case will not be needed. The accused is beyond our jurisdiction."
There was a moment of intense silence, a look as of awe on many a face, then came the question from one who knew not Devers:
"Killed himself?"
"No! Worse than that,—resigned under fire, and got it accepted."
Later that day there were shown to certain officers some scraps and letters that had been left in the wastebasket in Devers's room; among them was a telegraphic despatch from Butte, Sunday, repeated from Scott on Monday, apparently after Leonard left. It was to this effect:
"Haney split. Secure box. McGrath found. Send hundred at once."
And while detectives hastened Butteward in quest of its signer, Howard, only malediction followed its recipient, now speeding eastward fast as steam could carry him.