No sound of ringing followed this application to the thumbscrew arrangement on the door, for the colonel had taken the bell away long ago. But there resulted a clucking, which brought the colonel to the portal frowning and alert, warming in the expectation of having somebody whom he might dress down at last.
“Colonel Landcraft, I beg the favor of a word in private,” said the stranger at the door.
The colonel opened the door wider, and peered sharply at the visitor, a frown gathering on his unfriendly face.
“I haven’t the honor”—he began stiffly, seeing that it was an inferior civilian, for all civilians, except the president, were inferior to the colonel.
“Macdonald is my name. I am a rancher in this country; you will have heard of me,” the visitor replied.
“Nothing to your credit, young man,” said the colonel, tartly. “What do you want?”
“A man’s chance,” said Macdonald, earnestly. “Will you let me explain?”
Colonel Landcraft stood out of the doorway; Macdonald entered.
“I’ll make a light,” said the colonel, lowering the window-shades before he struck the match. When he had the flame of the student’s lamp on top of his 71 desk regulated to conform to his exactions, the colonel faced about suddenly.
“I am listening, sir.”