Mark stared into his earnest face a moment, and then he turned away in thought.
"You may go," he said to the boy. "I know my way to her house alone."
The lad disappeared; and Mark, without a moment's hesitation, went over and woke one of the cadets.
"Wake up, Texas," he whispered. "Wake up and read this."
Texas arose from his couch in surprise and sleepy alarm. He read the letter, gasping; then he stared at Mark.
"Do you think she wrote it?" he inquired.
That problem was puzzling Mark, too. He had received two letters before from the girl, under exactly similar circumstances. One had been a trick of the cadets to lure him out. The other had been genuine, and had resulted in Mark's saving the girl's brother from disgrace and ruin. But which was this?
Mark made up his mind quickly.
"I think she wrote it, old man," he said. "The drum boy who gave me this gave me the other she wrote, too, and he swears she wrote this. He said she was frightened and crying. Texas, she lives way off there with her old mother, who's blind and helpless. And there's no telling what may have happened to her. Just see how urgent that note is. I must go, old man. I'd be a coward if I didn't. She don't know a soul to call on but me."
And Mark, generous and noble to a fault, had turned and begun to fling on his clothing. Texas was doing likewise.