rooster was a foolish bird and always crowed himself hoarse when the moon was bright.  And in front of him, not far away, were two white, lightning-shriven spruce stubs standing like ghosts in the night.  In one of these a pair of owls had nested, and Kent listened to the queer, chuckling notes of their honeymooning and the flutter of their wings as they darted out now and then in play close to his window.  And then suddenly he heard the sharp snap of their beaks.  An enemy was prowling near, and the owls were giving warning.  He thought he heard a step.  In another moment or two the step was unmistakable.  Some one was approaching his window from the end of the building.  He leaned over the sill and found himself staring into O’Connor’s face.

“These confounded feet of mine!” grunted the staff-sergeant.  “Were you asleep, Kent?”

“Wide-awake as those owls,” assured Kent.

O’Connor drew up to the window.  “I saw your light and thought you were awake,” he said.  “I wanted to make sure Cardigan wasn’t with you.  I don’t want him to know I am here.  And—­if you don’t mind—­ will you turn off the light?  Kedsty is awake, too—­as wide-awake as the owls.”

Kent reached out a hand, and his room was in darkness except for the glow of moon and stars.  O’Connor’s bulk at the window shut out a part of this.  His face was half in gloom.

“It’s a crime to come to you like this, Kent,” he said, keeping his big voice down to a whisper.  “But I had to.  It’s my last chance.  And I know there’s something wrong.  Kedsty is getting me out of the way—­because I was with him when he met the girl over in the poplar bush.  I’m detailed on special duty up at Fort Simpson, two thousand miles by water if it’s a foot!  It means six months or a year.  We leave in the motor boat at dawn to overtake Rossand and his outfit, so I had to take this chance of seeing you.  I hesitated until I knew that some one was awake in your room.”

“I’m glad you came,” said Kent warmly.  “And—­good God, how I would like to go with you, Bucky!  If it wasn’t for this thing in my chest, ballooning up for an explosion—­”

“I wouldn’t be going,” interrupted O’Connor in a low voice.  “If you were on your feet, Kent, there are a number of things that wouldn’t be happening.  Something mighty queer has come over Kedsty since this morning.  He isn’t the Kedsty you knew yesterday or for the last ten years.  He’s nervous, and I miss my guess if he isn’t constantly on the watch for some one.  And he’s afraid of me.  I know it.  He’s afraid of me because I saw him go to pieces when he met that girl.  Fort Simpson is simply a frame-up to get me away for a time.  He tried to smooth the edge off the thing by promising me an inspectorship within the year.  That was this afternoon, just before the storm.  Since then—­”

O’Connor turned and faced the moonlight for a moment.