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an alibi； the money might have been removed by an outsider。 The
court…martial gave Swanson the benefit of the doubt； and a reprimand
for not taking greater care of the keys； and Swanson made good the
five thousand。
Swanson did not think it was a burglar who had robbed the safe。
He thought Rueff had robbed it； but he could not possibly prove
that。 At the time of the robbery Rueff was outside the Presidio；
in uniform； at a moving…picture show in San Francisco。 A dozen
people saw him there。 Besides； Rueff held an excellent record。
He was a silent； clerk…like young man； better at 〃paper work〃 than
campaigning； but even as a soldier he had never come upon the books。
And he had seen service in two campaigns； and was supposed to
cherish ambitions toward a commission。 But； as he kept much to
himself； his fellow non…coms could only guess that。
On his captain's account he was loyally distressed over the
court…martial； and in his testimony tried to shield Swanson； by
agreeing heartily that through his own carelessness the keys
might have fallen into the hands of some one outside the post。
But his loyalty could not save his superior officer from what was
a verdict virtually of 〃not proven。〃
It was a most distressing affair； and； on account of the social
prominence of Swanson's people； his own popularity； and the name
he had made at Batangas and in the Boxer business； was much
commented upon； not only in the services； but by the newspapers
all over the United States。
Every one who knew Swanson knew the court…martial was only a
matter of form。 Even his enemies ventured only to suggest that
overnight he might have borrowed the money； meaning to replace it
the next morning。 And the only reason for considering this explanation
was that Swanson was known to be in debt。 For he was a persistent
gambler。 Just as at Pekin he had gambled with death for his number；
in times of peace he gambled for money。 It was always his own money。
From the start Swanson's own attitude toward the affair was one
of blind； unreasoning rage。 In it he saw no necessary routine of
discipline； only crass； ignorant stupidity。 That any one should
suspect him was so preposterous； so unintelligent； as to be nearly
comic。 And when； instantly； he demanded a court of inquiry； he
could not believe it when he was summoned before a court…martial。
It sickened； wounded； deeply affronted him； turned him quite savage。
On his stand his attitude and answers were so insolent that his
old friend and classmate； Captain Copley； who was acting as his
counsel； would gladly have kicked him。 The findings of the
court…martial； that neither cleared nor condemned； and the
reprimand； were an intolerable insult to his feelings； and； in a
fit of bitter disgust with the service and every one in it； Swanson
resigned。 Of course； the moment he had done so he was sorry。
Swanson's thought was that he could no longer associate with
any one who could believe him capable of theft。 It was his
idea of showing his own opinion of himself and the army。
But no one saw it in that light。 On the contrary； people said：
〃Swanson has been allowed to resign。〃 I n the army； voluntarily
resigning and being 〃allowed to resign〃 lest greater evils befall；
are two vastly different things。 And when it was too late no one
than Swanson saw that more clearly。 His anger gave way to extreme
morbidness。 He believed that in resigning he had assured every one
of his guilt。 In every friend and stranger he saw a man who doubted
him。 He imagined snubs； rebuffs； and coldnesses。 His morbidness
fastened upon his mind like a parasite upon a tree； and the brain
sickened。 When men and women glanced at his alert； well…set…up
figure and shoulders； that even when he wore 〃cits〃 seemed to support
epaulets； and smiled approvingly； Swanson thought they sneered。 In
a week he longed to be back in the army with a homesickness that made
every one who belonged to it his enemy。
He left San Francisco； where he was known to all； and travelled
south through Texas； and then to New Orleans and Florida。 He
never could recall this period with clearness。 He remembered
changing from one train to another； from one hotel to the next。
Nothing impressed itself upon him。 For what he had lost nothing
could give consolation。 Without honor life held no charm。 And
he believed that in the eyes of all men he was a thief； a pariah；
and an outcast。
He had been in Cuba with the Army of Occupation； and of that
beautiful island had grown foolishly fond。 He was familiar with
every part of it； and he believed in one or another of its pretty
ports he could so completely hide himself that no one could
intrude upon his misery。 In the States； in the newspapers he
seemed to read only of those places where he had seen service； of
those places and friends and associates he most loved。 In the
little Cuban village in which he would bury himself he would cut
himself off from all newspapers； from all who knew him； from
those who had been his friends； and those who knew his name only
to connect it with a scandal。
On his way from Port Tampa to Cuba the boat stopped at Key West；
and for the hour in which she discharged cargo Swanson went
ashore and wandered aimlessly。 The little town； reared on a flat
island of coral and limestone； did not long detain him。 The main
street of shops； eating…houses； and saloons； the pretty residences
with overhanging balconies； set among gardens and magnolia…trees；
were soon explored； and he was returning to the boat when the martial
music of a band caused him to halt。 A side street led to a great gateway
surmounted by an anchor。 Beyond it Swanson saw lawns of well…kept
grass； regular paths； pretty cottages； the two…starred flag of an admiral；
and； rising high above these； like four Eiffel towers； the gigantic masts
of a wireless。 He recognized that he was at the entrance to the Key
West naval station； and turned quickly away。
He walked a few feet； the music of the band still in his ears。 In
an hour he would be steaming toward Cuba； and； should he hold to
his present purpose； in many years this would be the last time he
would stand on American soil； would see the uniform of his country；
would hear a military band lull the sun to sleep。 It would hurt； but
he wondered if it were not worth the hurt。 A smart sergeant of marines；
in passing； cast one glance at the man who seemed always to wear
epaulets； and brought his hand sharply to salute。 The act determined
Swanson。 He had obtained the salute under false pretenses； but it had
pleased； not hurt him。 He turned back and passed into the gate of the
naval station。
From the gate a grass…lined carriage drive led to the waters of
the harbor and the wharfs。 At its extreme end was the band…stand；
flanked on one side by the cottage of the admiral； on the other
by a sail…loft with iron…barred windows and whitewashed walls。
Upon the turf were pyramids of cannon…balls and； laid out in rows
as though awaiting burial； old…time muzzle…loading guns。 Across
the harbor the sun was sinking into the coral reefs； and the spring
air； still warm from its caresses； was stirred by the music of the
band into gentle； rhythmic waves。 The scene was one of peace；
order； and content。
But as Swanson advanced； the measure of the music was instantly
shattered by a fierce volley of explosions。 They came so suddenly
and sharply as to make him start。 It was as though from his flank
a quick…firing gun in ambush had opened upon him。 Swanson smiled
at having been taken unawares。 For in San Francisco he often had
heard the roar and rattle of the wireless。 But never before had he
listened to an attack like this。
From a tiny white…and…green cottage； squatting among the four
giant masts； came the roar of a forest fire。 One could hear the
crackle of the flames； the crash of the falling tree…trunks。 The
air about the cottage was torn into threads； beneath the shocks
of the electricity the lawn seemed to heave and tremble。 It was
like some giant monster； bound and fettered； struggling to be
free。 Now it growled sullenly； now in impotent rage it spat and
spluttered； now it lashed about with crashing； stunning blows。 It
seemed as though the wooden walls of the station could not
contain it。
From the road Swanson watched； through the open windows of the
cottage； the electric bolts flash and flare and disappear。 The thing
appealed to his imagination。 Its power； its capabilities fascinated
him。 In it he saw a hungry monster reaching out to every corner
of the continent and devouring the news of the world； feeding
upon tales of shipwreck and disaster； lingering over some dainty
morsel of scandal； snatching from ships and cities two thousand
miles away the thrice…told tale of a conflagration； the score of a
baseball match； the fall of a cabinet； the assassination of a king。
In a sudden access of fierceness； as though in an ecstasy over
some fresh horror just received； it shrieked and chortled。 And
then； as suddenly as it had broken forth； it sank to silence； and
from the end of the carriage drive again rose； undisturbed； the
music of the band。
The