And so, growling and complaining, and yet half laughing, Adonis rolled from his couch and began to get into his clothes.  Chester’s blood ran cold, then boiled.  Think of a man who could laugh like that,—­and remember! When, how, had he returned to the house?  Listen!

“Confound you, Sloat, I wouldn’t rout you out in this shabby way.  Why couldn’t you let a man sleep?  I’m tired half to death.”

“What have you done to tire you?  Slept all yesterday afternoon, and danced perhaps a dozen times at the doctor’s last night.  You’ve had more sleep than I’ve had, begad!  You took Miss Renwick home before ’twas over, and mean it was of you, too, with all the fellows that wanted to dance with her.”

“That wasn’t my fault:  Mrs. Maynard made her promise to be home at twelve.  You old cackler, that’s what sticks in your crop yet.  You are persecuting me because they like me so much better than they do you,” he went on, laughingly now.  “Come, now, Sloat, confess, it is all because you’re jealous.  You couldn’t have that picture, and I could.”

Chester fairly started.  He had urgent need to see this young gallant,—­he was staying for that purpose,—­but should he listen to further talk like this?  Too late to move, for Sloat’s answer came like a shot: 

“I bet you you never could!”

“But didn’t I tell you I had?—­a week ago?”

“Ay, but I didn’t believe it.  You couldn’t show it!”

“Pshaw, man!  Look here.  Stop, though!  Remember, on your honor, you never tell.”

“On my honor, of course.”

“Well, there!”

A drawer was opened.  Chester heard a gulp of dismay, of genuine astonishment and conviction mixed, as Sloat muttered some half-articulate words and then came into the front room.  Jerrold followed, caught sight of Chester, and stopped short, with sudden and angry change of color.

“I did not know you were here,” he said.

“It was to find where you were that I came,” was the quiet answer.

There was a moment’s silence.  Sloat turned and looked at the two men in utter surprise.  Up to this time he had considered Jerrold’s absence from reveille as a mere dereliction of duty which was ascribable to the laziness and indifference of the young officer.  So far as lay in his power, he meant to make him attend more strictly to business, and had therefore come to his quarters and stirred him up.  But there was no thought of any serious trouble in his mind.  His talk had all been roughly good-humored until—­until that bet was mentioned, and then it became earnest.  Now, as he glanced from one man to the other, he saw in an instant that something new—­something of unusual gravity—­was impending.  Chester, buttoned to the throat in his dark uniform, accurately gloved and belted, with pale, set, almost haggard face, was standing by the centre-table under the drop-light.  Jerrold, only half dressed, his feet thrust into slippers, his fingers nervously working at the studs of his dainty white shirt, had stopped short at his bedroom door, and, with features that grew paler every second and a dark scowl on his brow, was glowering at Chester.