[Frontispiece: His fingers gripped the iron top rail, and he slowlypulled his body up. ]

Molly McDonald

A Tale of the Old Frontier

BY RANDALL PARRISH

Author of "Keith of the Border, " "My Lady of Doubt, " "My Lady of theSouth, " etc. 

WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOR

BY ERNEST L. BLUMENSCHEIN

A. L. BURT COMPANY

PUBLISHERS -------------- NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

1912

Published April, 1912

Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I AN UNPLEASANT SITUATION II "BRICK" HAMLIN III THE NEWS AT RIPLEY IV THE ATTACK V THE DEFENCE OF THE STAGE VI THE CONDITION IN THE COACH VII PLANS FOE ESCAPE VIII A WAY TO THE RIVER IX ACROSS THE RIVER X THE RIPENING OF ACQUAINTANCE XI A REMEMBRANCE OF THE PAST XII THE PARTING XIII BACK AT FORT DODGE XIV UNDER ARREST XV AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE XVI THE MEETING XVII AT CROSS-PURPOSES XVIII ANOTHER MESSAGE XIX A FULL CONFESSION XX MOLLY TELLS HER STORY XXI MOLLY DISAPPEARS XXII A DEEPENING MYSTERY XXIII THE DEAD BODY XXIV IN PURSUIT XXV IN THE BLIZZARD XXVI UNSEEN DANGER XXVII HUGHES' STORY XXVIII SNOWBOUND XXIX THE CHASE XXX THE FIGHT IN THE SNOW XXXI THE GIRL AND THE MAN XXXII WORDS OF LOVE XXXIII MOLLY'S STORY XXXIV THE ADVANCE OF CUSTER XXXV THE INDIAN TRAIL XXXVI READY TO ATTACK XXXVII THE BATTLE WITH THE INDIANS XXXVIII AT CAMP SUPPLY

ILLUSTRATIONS

His fingers gripped the iron top rail, and he slowly pulled his body up . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

"No, don't move! The stage has been gutted and set on fire"

The two started back at his rather abrupt entrance

His Colt poised for action, he lifted the wooden latch

MOLLY McDONALD

CHAPTER I

AN UNPLEASANT SITUATION

When, late in May, 1868, Major Daniel McDonald, Sixth Infantry, wasfirst assigned to command the new three company post establishedsouthwest of Fort Dodge, designed to protect the newly discoveredCimarron trail leading to Santa Fé across the desert, and, purely bycourtesy, officially termed Fort Devere, he naturally considered itperfectly safe to invite his only daughter to join him there for hersummer vacation. Indeed, at that time, there was apparently no validreason why he should deny himself this pleasure. Except for certainvague rumors regarding uneasiness among the Sioux warriors north of thePlatte, the various tribes of the Plains were causing no unusualtrouble to military authorities, although, of course, there was no timein the history of that country utterly devoid of peril from youngraiders, usually aided and abetted by outcast whites. However, theSanta Fé route, by this date, had become a well-travelled trail, protected by scattered posts along its entire route, frequentlypatrolled by troops, and merely considered dangerous for small parties, south of the Cimarron, where roving Comanches in bad humor might beencountered. 

Fully assured as to this by officers met at Fort Ripley, McDonald, whohad never before served west of the Mississippi, wrote his daughter along letter, describing in careful detail the route, set an exact datefor her departure, and then, satisfied all was well arranged, set forthwith his small command on the long march overland. He had not seen hisdaughter for over two years, as during her vacation time (she wasattending Sunnycrest School, on the Hudson), she made her home with anaunt in Connecticut. This year the aunt was in Europe, not expectingto return until fall, and the father had hopefully counted on havingthe girl with him once again in Kentucky. Then came his sudden, unexpected transfer west, and the final decision to have her join himthere. Why not? If she remained the same high-spirited army girl, shewould thoroughly enjoy the unusual experience of a few months of realfrontier life, and the only hardship involved would be the long stageride from Ripley. This, however, was altogether prairie travel, monotonous enough surely, but without special danger, and he coulddoubtless arrange to meet her himself at Kansas City, or send one ofhis officers for that purpose. 

This was the situation in May, but by the middle of June conditions hadgreatly changed throughout all the broad Plains country. The spirit ofsavage war had spread rapidly from the Platte to the Rio Pecos, andscarcely a wild tribe remained disaffected. Arapahoe, Cheyenne, Pawnee, Comanche, and Apache alike espoused the cause of the Sioux, andtheir young warriors, breaking away from the control of older chiefs, became ugly and warlike. Devere, isolated as it was from the mainroute of travel (the Santa Fé stages still following the more northerntrail), heard merely rumors of the prevailing condition throughtarrying hunters, and possibly an occasional army courier, yet soonrealized the gravity of the situation because of the almost totalcessation of travel by way of the Cimarron and the growing insolence ofthe surrounding Comanches. Details from the small garrison were, underurgent orders from headquarters at Fort Wallace, kept constantlyscouting as far south as the fork of the Red River, and then west tothe mountains. Squads from the single cavalry company guarded the fewcaravans venturing still to cross the Cimarron Desert, or boredespatches to Fort Dodge. Thus the few soldiers remaining on duty atthe home station became slowly aware that this outburst of savagery wasno longer a mere tribal affair. Outrages were reported from theSolomon, the Republican, the Arkansas valleys. A settlement was raidedon Smoky Fork; stages were attacked near the Caches, and one burned; awagon train was ambushed in the Raton Pass, and only escaped afterdesperate fighting. Altogether the situation appeared extremelyserious and the summer promised war in earnest. 

McDonald was rather slow to appreciate the real facts. His knowledgeof Indian tactics was exceedingly small, and the utter isolation of hispost kept him ignorant. At first he was convinced that it was merely alocal disturbance and would end as suddenly as begun. Then, whenrealization finally came, was already too late to stop the girl. Shewould be already on her long journey. What could he do? Whatimmediate steps could he hope to take for her protection? Ordinarilyhe would not have hesitated, but now a decision was not so easily made. Of his command scarcely thirty men remained at Devere, a mere infantryguard, together with a small squad of cavalrymen, retained for courierservice. His only remaining commissioned officer at the post was thepartially disabled cavalry captain, acting temporarily as adjutant, because incapacitated for taking the field. He had waited until thelast possible moment, trusting that a shift in conditions might bringback some available officer. Now he had to choose between his duty ascommander and as father. Further delay was impossible. 

Devere was a fort merely by courtesy. In reality it consisted only ofa small stockade hastily built of cottonwood timber, surrounding inpartial protection a half dozen shacks, and one fairly decent loghouse. The situation was upon a slight elevation overlooking the ford, some low bluffs, bare of timber but green with June grass to thenorthward, while in every other direction extended an interminablesand-desert, ever shifting beneath wind blasts, presenting as desolatea scene as eye could witness. The yellow flood of the river, stillswollen by melting mountain snow, was a hundred feet from the stockadegate, and on its bank stood the log cavalry stables. Below, a scanthalf mile away, were the only trees visible, a scraggly grove ofcottonwoods, while down the face of the bluff and across the flat ranthe slender ribbon of trail. Monotonous, unchanging, it was a desolatepicture to watch day after day in the hot summer. 

In the gloom following an early supper the two officers sat together inthe single room of the cabin, a candle sputtering on the table behindthem, smoking silently or moodily discussing the situation. McDonaldwas florid and heavily built, his gray mustache hanging heavily over afirm mouth, while the Captain was of another type, tall, with dark eyesand hair. The latter by chance opened the important topic. 

"By the way, Major, " he said carelessly, "I guess it is just as wellyou stopped your daughter from coming out to this hole. Lord, but itwould be an awful place for a woman. "

"But I did n't, " returned the other moodily. "I put it off too long. "

"Put it off! Good heavens, man, did n't you write when you spoke aboutdoing so? Do you actually mean the girl is coming--here?"

McDonald groaned. 

"That is exactly what I mean, Travers. Damme, I have n't thought ofanything else for a week. Oh, I know now I was an old fool even toconceive of such a trip, but when I first wrote her I had no conceptionof what it was going to be like out here. There was not a rumor ofIndian trouble a month ago, and when the tribes did break out it wastoo late for me to get word back East. The fact is, I am in the devilof a fix--without even an officer whom I can send to meet her, or turnher back. If I should go myself it would mean a court-martial. "

Travers stared into the darkness through the open door, sucking at hispipe. 

"By George, you are in a pickle, " he acknowledged slowly. "I supposedshe had been headed off long ago. Have n't heard you mention thematter since we first got here. Where do you suppose the lass is bynow?"

"Near as I can tell she would leave Ripley the 18th. "

"Humph! Then starting to-night, a good rider might intercept her atFort Dodge. She would be in no danger travelling alone for thatdistance. The regular stages are running yet, I suppose?"

"Yes; so far as I know. "

"Under guard?"

"Only from the Caches to Fort Union; there has been no trouble alongthe lower Arkansas yet. The troops from Dodge are scouting the countrynorth, and we are supposed to keep things clear of hostiles down thisway. "

"Supposed to--yes; but we can't patrol five hundred miles of desertwith a hundred men, most of them dough-boys. The devils can breakthrough any time they get ready--you know that. At this minute thereis n't a mile of safe country between Dodge and Union. If she was mydaughter--"

"You 'd do what?" broke in McDonald, jumping to his feet. "I 'd givemy life to know what to do!"

"Why, I'd send somebody to meet her--to turn her back if that waspossible. Peyton would look after her there at Ripley until you couldarrange. "

"That's easy enough to say, Travers, but tell me who is there to send?Do you chance to know an enlisted man out yonder who would do--whom youwould trust to take care of a young girl alone?"

The Captain bent his head on one hand, silent for some minutes. 

"They are a tough lot, Major; that's a fact, when you stop to call theroll. Those recruits we got at Leavenworth were mostlyrough-necks--seven of them in the guard-house to-night. Our best menare all out, " with a wave of his hand to the south. "It's only theriff-raff we 've got left, at Devere. "

"You can't go?"

The Captain rubbed his lame leg regretfully. 

"No; I 'd risk it if I could only ride, but I could n't sit a saddle. "

"And my duty is here; it would cost me my commission. "

There was a long thoughtful silence, both men moodily staring outthrough the door. Away in the darkness unseen sentinels called thehour. Then Travers dropped one hand on the other's knee. 

"Dan, " he said swiftly, "how about that fellow who came in withdespatches from Union just before dark? He looked like a real man. "

"I did n't see him. I was down river with the wood-cutters all day. "

Travers got up and paced the floor. 

"I remember now. What do you say? Let's have him in, anyhow. Theynever would have trusted him for that ride if he had n't been the rightsort. " He strode over to the door, without waiting an answer. "Here, Carter, " he called, "do you know where that cavalryman is who rode infrom Fort Union this afternoon?"

A face appeared in the glow of light, and a gloved hand rose to salute. 

"He's asleep in 'B's' shack, sir, " the orderly replied. "Said he 'dbeen on the trail two nights and a day. "

"Reckon he had, and some riding at that. Rout him out, will you; tellhim the Major wants to see him here at once. "

The man wheeled as if on a pivot, and disappeared. 

"If Carter could only ride, " began McDonald, but Travers interruptedimpatiently. 

"If! But we all know he can't. Worst I ever saw, must have originallybeen a sailor. " He slowly refilled his pipe. "Now, see here, Dan, it's your daughter that's to be looked after, and therefore I want youto size this man up for yourself. I don't pretend to know anythingabout him, only he looks like a soldier, and they must think well ofhim at Union. "

McDonald nodded, but without enthusiasm; then dropped his head into hishands. In the silence a coyote howled mournfully not far away; then ashadow appeared on the log step, the light of the candle flashing on arow of buttons. 

"This is the man, sir, " said the orderly, and stood aside to permit theother to enter. 

CHAPTER II

"BRICK" HAMLIN

The two officers looked up with some eagerness, McDonald straighteningin his chair, and returning the cavalryman's salute instinctively, hiseyes expressing surprise. He was a straight-limbed fellow, slenderlybuilt, and appearing taller than he really was by reason of his erect, soldierly carriage; thin of waist, broad of chest, dressed in roughservice uniform, without jacket, just as he had rolled out of thesaddle, rough shirt open at the throat, patched, discolored trousers, with broad yellow stripe down the seam, stuck into service ridingboots, a revolver dangling at his left hip, and a soft hat, fadedsadly, crushed in one hand. 

The Major saw all this, yet it was at the man's uncovered face he gazedmost intently. He looked upon a countenance browned by sun and alkali, intelligent, sober, heavily browed, with eyes of dark gray ratherdeeply set; firm lips, a chin somewhat prominent, and a broad forehead, the light colored hair above closely trimmed; the cheeks were darkenedby two days' growth of beard. McDonald unclosed, then clenched hishand. 

"You are from Fort Union, Captain Travers tells me?"

"Yes, sir, " the reply slow, deliberate, as though the speaker had nodesire to waste words. "I brought despatches; they were delivered toCaptain Travers. "

"Yes, I know; but I may require you for other service. What were yourorders?"

"To return at convenience. "

"Good. I know Hawley, and do not think he would object. What is yourregiment?"

"Seventh Cavalry. "

"Oh, yes, just organized; before that?"

"The Third. "

"I see you are a non-com--corporal?"

"Sergeant, sir, since my transfer. "

"Second enlistment?"

"No, first in the regulars--the Seventh was picked from other commands. "

"I understand. You say first in the regulars. Does that mean you sawvolunteer service?"

"Three years, sir. "

"Ah!" his eyes brightening instantly. "Then how does it happen youfailed to try for a commission after the war? You appear to beintelligent, educated?"

The Sergeant smiled. 

"Unfortunately my previous service had been performed in the wronguniform, sir, " he said quietly. "I was in a Texas regiment. "

There was a moment's silence, during which Travers smoked, and theMajor seemed to hesitate. Finally the latter asked:

"What is your name, Sergeant?"

"Hamlin, sir. "

The pipe came out of Travers' mouth, and he half arose to his feet. 

"By all the gods!" he exclaimed. "That's it! Now I 've got youplaced--you 're--you 're 'Brick' Hamlin!"

The man unconsciously put one hand to his hair, his eyes laughing. 

"Some of the boys call me that--yes, " he confessed apologetically. 

Travers was on his feet now, gesticulating with his pipe. 

"Damn! I knew I'd seen your face somewhere. It was two years ago atWashita. Say, Dan, this is the right man for you; better than anyfledgling West Pointer. Why, he is the same lad who brought inDugan--you heard about that!"

The Major shook his head. 

"No! Oh, of course not. Nothing that goes on out here ever driftseast of the Missouri. Lord! We might as well be serving in a foreigncountry. Well, listen: I was at Washita then, and had the storyfirst-hand. Dugan was a Lieutenant in 'D' Troop, out with his firstindependent command scouting along the Canadian. He knew as much aboutIndians as a cow does of music. One morning the young idiot left campwith only one trooper along--Hamlin here--and he was a 'rookie, ' tofollow up what looked like a fresh trail. Two hours later they rodeslap into a war party, and the fracas was on. Dugan got a ball throughthe body at the first fire that paralyzed him. He was conscious, butcould n't move. The rest was up to Hamlin. You ought to have heardDugan tell it when he got so he could speak. Hamlin dragged the boydown into a buffalo wallow, shot both horses, and got behind them. Itwas all done in the jerk of a lamb's tall. They had two Henry rifles, and the 'rookie' kept them both hot. He got some of the bucks, too, but of course, we never knew how many. There were twenty in the party, and they charged twice, riding their ponies almost to the edge of thewallow, but Hamlin had fourteen shots without reloading, and they couldn't quite make it. Dugan said there were nine dead ponies within aradius of thirty feet. Anyhow it was five hours before 'D' troop cameup, and that's what they found when they got there--Dugan laid out, asgood as dead, and Hamlin shot twice, and only ten cartridges left. Hell, " he added disgustedly, "and you never even heard of it east ofthe Missouri. "

There was a flush of color on the Sergeant's cheeks, but he never moved. 

"There was nothing else to do but what I did, " he explained simply. "Any of the fellows would have done the same if they had been upagainst it the way I was. May I ask, " his eyes first upon one and thenthe other inquiringly, "what it was you wanted of me?"

McDonald drew a long breath. 

"Certainly, Sergeant, sit down--yes, take that chair. "

He described the situation in a few words, and the trooper listenedquietly until he was done. Travers interrupted once, his voiceemerging from a cloud of smoke. As the Major concluded, Hamlin asked aquestion or two gravely. 

"How old is your daughter, sir?"

"In her twentieth year. "

"Have you a picture of the young lady?"

The Major crossed over to his fatigue coat hanging on the wall, andextracted a small photograph from an inside pocket. 

"This was taken a year ago, " he explained, "and was considered a goodlikeness then. "

Hamlin took the card in his hands, studied the face a moment, and thenplaced it upon the table. 

"You figure she ought to leave Ripley on the 18th, " he said slowly. "Then I shall need to start at once to make Dodge in time. "

"You mean to go then? Of course, you realize I have no authority toorder you on such private service. "

"That's true. I 'm a volunteer, but I 'll ask you for a written orderjust the same in case my Troop commander should ever object, and I 'llneed a fresh horse; I rode mine pretty hard coming up here. "

"You shall have the pick of the stables, Sergeant, " interjected thecavalry captain, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "Anything else?Have you had rest enough?"

"Four hours, " and the Sergeant stood up again. "All I require will betwo days' rations, and a few more revolver cartridges. The sooner I 'moff the better. "

If he heard Travers' attempt at conversation as the two stumbledtogether down the dark hill, he paid small attention. At the stables, aided by a smoky lantern, he picked out a tough-looking buckskinmustang, with an evil eye; and, using his own saddle and bridle, hefinally led the half-broken animal outside. 

"That buckskin's the devil's own, " protested Travers, careful to keepwell to one side. 

"I 'll take it out of him before morning, " was the reply. "Come on, boy! easy now--easy! How about the rations, Captain?"

"Carter will have them for you at the gate of the stockade. Do youknow the trail?"

"Well enough to follow--yes. "

McDonald was waiting with Carter, and the dim gleam of the lanternrevealed his face. 

"Remember, Sergeant, you are to make her turn back if you can. Tellher I wish her to do so--yes, this letter will explain everything, butshe is a pretty high-spirited girl, and may take the bit in herteeth--imagine she 'd rather be here with me, and all that. If shedoes I suppose you 'll have to let her have her own way--the Lord knowsher mother always did. Anyhow you 'll stay with her till she 's safe. "

"I sure will, " returned the Sergeant, gathering up his reins. "Good-bye to you. "

"Good-bye and good luck, " and McDonald put out his hand, which theother took hesitatingly. The next instant he was in the saddle, andwith a wild leap the startled mustang rounded the edge of the bluff, flying into the night. 

All had occurred so quickly that Hamlin's mind had not yet fullyadjusted itself to all the details. He was naturally a man of fewwords, deciding on a course of action quietly, yet not apt to deviatefrom any conclusion finally reached. But he had been hurried, pressedinto this adventure, and now welcomed an opportunity to think it allout coolly. At first, for a half mile or more, the plunging buckskinkept him busy, bucking viciously, rearing, leaping madly from side toside, practising every known equine trick to dislodge the grim rider inthe saddle. The man fought out the battle silently, immovable as arock, and apparently as indifferent. Twice his spurs brought blood, and once he struck the rearing head with clenched fist. The light ofthe stars revealed the faint lines of the trail, and he was content topermit the maddened brute to race forward, until, finally mastered, theanimal settled down into a swift gallop, but with ears laid back inugly defiance. The rider's gray eyes smiled pleasantly as he settledmore comfortably into the saddle, peering out from beneath the stiffbrim of his scouting hat; then they hardened, and the man swore softlyunder his breath. 

The peculiar nature of this mission which he had taken upon himself hadbeen recalled. He was always doing something like that--permittinghimself to become involved in the affairs of others. Now why should hebe here, riding alone through the dark to prevent this unknown girlfrom reaching Devere? She was nothing to him--even that glimpse of herpictured face had not impressed him greatly; rather interesting, to besure, but nothing extraordinary; besides he was not a woman's man, and, through years of isolation, had grown to avoid contact with thesex--and he was under no possible obligation to either McDonald orTravers. Yet here he was, fully committed, drawn into the vortex, by ahasty ill-considered decision. He was tired still from his swiftjourney across the desert from Fort Union, and now faced another threedays' ride. Then what? A headstrong girl to be convinced of danger, and controlled. The longer he thought about it all, the more intenselydisagreeable the task appeared, yet the clearer did he appreciate itsnecessity. He chafed at the knowledge that it had become hiswork--that he had permitted himself to be ensnared--yet he dug hisspurs into the mustang and rode steadily, grimly, forward. 

The real truth was that Hamlin comprehended much more fully than didthe men at Devere the danger menacing travellers along the main trailto Santa Fé. News reached Fort Union much quicker than it did thatisolated post up on the Cimarron. He knew of the fight in Raton Pass, and that two stages within ten days had been attacked, one severalmiles east of Bent's Fort. This must mean that a desperate party ofraiders had succeeded in slipping past those scattered army detailsscouting into the Northwest. Whether or not these warriors were in anyconsiderable force he could not determine--the reports of theirdepredations were but rumors at Union when he left--yet, whether inlarge body or small, they would have a clear run in the Arkansas Valleybefore any troops could be gathered together to drive them out. Perhaps even now, the stages had been withdrawn, communication withSanta Fé abandoned. This had been spoken of as possible at Union thenight he left, for it was well known there that there was no cavalryforce left at Dodge which could be utilized as guards. The wide map ofthe surrounding region spread out before him in memory; he felt itsbrooding desolation, its awful loneliness. Nevertheless he must goon--perhaps at the stage station near the ford of the Arkansas he couldlearn the truth. So he bent lower over the buckskin's neck and rodestraight through the black, silent night. 

It was a waterless desert stretching between the Cimarron and theArkansas, consisting of almost a dead level of alkali and sand, although toward the northern extremity the sand had been driven by theceaseless wind into grotesque hummocks. The trail, cut deep bytraders' wagons earlier in the spring, was still easily traceable for agreater part of the distance, and Hamlin as yet felt no need ofcaution--this was a country the Indians would avoid, the only dangerbeing from some raiding party from the south. At early dawn he cametrotting down into the Arkansas Valley, and gazed across at thegreenness of the opposite bank. There, plainly in view, were the deepruts of the main trail running close in against the bluff. His tiredeyes caught no symbol of life either up or down the stream, except athin spiral of blue smoke that slowly wound its way upward. An instanthe stared, believing it to be the fire of some emigrant's camp; thenrealized that he looked upon the smouldering débris of the stagestation. 

CHAPTER III

THE NEWS AT RIPLEY

Miss Molly McDonald had departed for the West--carefully treasuring herfather's detailed letter of instruction--filled with interest andenthusiasm. She was an army girl, full of confidence in herself anddelighted at the prospect of an unusual summer. Moreover, her naturalspirit of adventure had been considerably stimulated by the enviouscomments of her schoolmates, who apparently believed her wondrouslydaring to venture such a trip, the apprehensive advice of her teachers, and much reading, not very judiciously chosen, relative to pioneer lifeon the plains. The possible hardships of the long journey alone didnot appall her in the least. She had made similar trips before and hadalways found pleasant and attentive companionship. Being a wholesome, pleasant-faced girl, with eyes decidedly beautiful, and an attractivepersonality, the making or new friendships was never difficult. Ofcourse the stage ride would be an entirely fresh and precariousexperience, but then her father would doubtless meet her before that, or send some officer to act as escort. Altogether the prospectappeared most delightful and alluring. 

The illness of the principal of Sunnycrest had resulted in the closingof the school some few days earlier than had been anticipated, and itwas so lonely there after the others had departed that Miss Mollyhastened her packing and promptly joined the exodus. Why not? Shecould wait the proper date at Kansas City or Fort Ripley just as well, enjoying herself meanwhile amid a new environment, and no doubt shewould encounter some of her father's army friends who would helpentertain her pleasantly. Miss McDonald was somewhat impulsive, and, her interest once aroused, impatient of restraint. 

As a result of this earlier departure she reached Ripley some two daysin advance of the prearranged schedule, and in spite of her youngstrength and enthusiasm, most thoroughly tired out by the strain ofcontinuous travel. Her one remaining desire upon arrival was for abed, and actuated by this necessity, when she learned that the armypost was fully two miles from the town, she accepted proffered guidanceto the famous Gilsey House and promptly fell asleep. The light of anew day gave her a first real glimpse of the surrounding dreariness asshe stood looking out through the grimy glass of her single window, depressed and heartsick. The low, rolling hills, bare and desolate, stretched to the horizon, the grass already burned brown by the sun. The town itself consisted of but one short, crooked street, flanked byrough, ramshackle frame structures, two-thirds of these apparentlysaloons, with dirty, flapping tents sandwiched between, and huge pilesof tin cans and other rubbish stored away behind. The street wasrutted and dusty, and the ceaseless wind swirled the dirt about incontinuous, suffocating clouds. The hotel itself, a little, squatty, two-storied affair, groaned to the blast, threatening to collapse. Nothing moved except a wagon down the long ribbon of road, and a dogdigging for a bone behind a near-by tent. It was so squalid and uglyshe turned away in speechless disgust. 

The interior, however, offered even smaller comfort. A rude bedstead, one leg considerably short and propped up by a half brick, stoodagainst the board wall; a single wooden chair was opposite, and afly-specked mirror hung over a tin basin and pitcher. The floor saggedfearfully and the side walls lacked several inches of reaching theceiling. Even in the dim candle light of the evening before, the bedcoverings had looked so forbidding that Molly had compromised, lyingdown, half-dressed on the outside; now, in the garish glare ofreturning day they appeared positively filthy. And this was the bestto be had; she realized that, her courage failing at the thought ofremaining alone amid such surroundings. As she washed, using a towelof her own after a single glance at the hotel article, and did up herrebellious hair, she came to a prompt decision. She would go directlyon--would take the first stage. Perhaps her father, or whomever hesent, would be met with along the route. The coaches had regularmeeting stations, so there was small danger of their missing eachother. Even if she was compelled to wait over at Fort Dodge, theenvironment there could certainly be no more disagreeable than this. 

The question of possible danger was dismissed almost without seriousthought. She had seen no papers since leaving St. Louis, and the newsbefore that contained nothing more definite than rumors of uneasinessamong the Plains Indians. Army officers interviewed rather made lightof the affair, as being merely the regular outbreak of young warriors, easily suppressed. On the train she had met with no one who treatedthe situation as really serious, and, if it was, then surely her fatherwould send some message of restraint. Satisfied upon this point, andfully determined upon departing at the earliest opportunity, sheventured down the narrow, creaking stairs in search of breakfast. 

The dining-room was discovered at the foot of the steps, a square boxof a place, the two narrow windows looking forth on the desolateprairie. There were three long tables, but only one was in use, and, with no waiter to guide her, the girl advanced hesitatingly and took aseat opposite the two men already present. They glanced up, curiouslyinterested, staring at her a moment, and then resumed their interruptedmeal. Miss McDonald's critical eyes surveyed the unsavory-lookingfood, her lips slightly curving, and then glanced inquiringly towardthe men. The one directly opposite was large and burly, with iron-grayhair and beard, about sixty years of age, but with red cheeks andbright eyes, and a face expressive of hearty good nature. His clothingwas roughly serviceable, but he looked clean and wholesome. The otherwas an army lieutenant, but Molly promptly quelched her firstinclination to address him, as she noted his red, inflamed face anddissipated appearance. As she nibbled, half-heartedly, at themiserable food brought by a slovenly waiter, the two men exchangedbarely a dozen words, the lieutenant growling out monosyllabic answers, finally pushing back his chair, and striding out. Again the girlglanced across at the older man, mustering courage to address him. Atthe same moment he looked up, with eyes full of good humor and kindlyinterest. 

"Looks rather tough, I reckon, miss, " waving a big hand over the table. "But you 'll have ter git used to it in this kentry. "

"Oh, I do not believe I ever could, " disconsolately. "I can scarcelychoke down a mouthful. "

"So I was noticin'; from the East, I reckon?"

"Yes; I--I came last night, and--and really I am afraid I am actuallyhomesick already. It--it is even more--more primitive than I supposed. Do--do you live here--at Ripley?"

"Good Lord, no!" heartily, "though I reckon yer might not think my homewuz much better. I 'm the post-trader down at Fort Marcy, jist out o'Santa Fé. I 'll be blame glad ter git back thar too, I 'm a tellin'yer. "

"That--that is what I wished to ask you about, " she stammered. "TheSanta Fé stage; when does it leave here? and--and where do I arrangefor passage?"

He dropped knife and fork, staring at her across the table. 

"Good Lord, miss, " he exclaimed swiftly. "Do yer mean to say ye 'regoin' to make that trip alone?"

"Oh, not to Santa Fé; only as far as the stage station at the Arkansascrossing, " she exclaimed hastily. "I am going to join my father;he--he commands a post on the Cimarron--Major McDonald. "

"Well, I 'll be damned, " said the man slowly, so surprised that heforgot himself. "Babes in the wilderness; what, in Heaven's name, everinduced yer dad to let yer come on such a fool trip? Is n't thar noone to meet yer here, or at Dodge?"

"I--I don't know, " she confessed. "Father was going to come, or elsesend one of his officers, but I have seen no one. I am here two daysearlier than was expected, and--and I haven't heard from my fathersince last month. See, this is his last letter; won't you read it, please, and tell me what I ought to do?"

The man took the letter, and read the three pages carefully, and thenturned back to note the date, before handing the sheets across thetable. 

"The Major sure made his instructions plain enough, " he said slowly. "And yer have n't heard from him since, or seen any one he sent to meetyer?"

The girl shook her head slowly. 

"Well, that ain't to be wondered at, either, " he went on. "Things haschanged some out yere since that letter was wrote. I reckon yer knowwe 're havin' a bit o' Injun trouble, an' yer dad is shore to be prettybusy out thar on the Cimarron. "

"I--I do not think I do. I have seen no papers since leaving St. Louis. Is the situation really serious? Is it unsafe for me to gofarther?"

The man rubbed his chin, as though undecided what was best to say. Butthe girl's face was full of character, and he answered frankly. 

"It's serious 'nough, I reckon, an' I certainly wish I wus safe throughto Fort Marcy, but I don't know no reason now why you could n't finishup your trip all right. I wus out to the fort last evenin' gettin' thelatest news, an' thar hasn't been no trouble to speak of east of oldBent's Fort. Between thar and Union, thar's a bunch o' Mescalo Apachesraisin' thunder. One lot got as far as the Caches, an' burned a wagontrain, but were run back into the mount'ns. Troops are out along bothsides the Valley, an' thar ain't been no stage held up, nor stationattacked along the Arkansas. I reckon yer pa 'll have an escortwaitin' at the crossin'?"

"Of course he will; what I am most afraid of is that I might miss himor his messenger on the route. "

"Not likely; there's only two stages a week each way, an' they haveregular meeting points. "

She sat quiet, eyes lowered to the table, thinking. She liked the man, and trusted him; he seemed kindly deferential. Finally she looked up. 

"When do you go?"

"To-day. I was goin' to wait 'bout yere a week longer, but am gittingskeered they might quit runnin' their coaches. To tell the truth, miss, it looks some to me like thar wus a big Injun war comin', and I'd like ter git home whar I belong afore it breaks loose. "

"Will--will you take me with you?"

He moistened his lips, his hands clasping and unclasping on the table. 

"Sure, if yer bound ter go. I 'll do the best I kin fer yer, an' Ireckon ther sooner yer start the better chance ye 'll have o' gittin'through safe. " He hesitated. "If we should git bad news at Dodge, isthere anybody thar, at the fort, you could stop with?"

"Colonel Carver. "

"He 's not thar now; been transferred to Wallace, but, I reckon, any o'those army people would look after yer. Ye 've really made up yer mindto try it, then?"

"Yes, yes; I positively cannot stay here. I shall go as far as Dodgeat least. If--if we are going to travel together, I ought to know yourname. "

"Sure yer had, " with a laugh. "I fergot all 'bout that--it's Moylan, miss; William Moylan; 'Sutler Bill' they call me mostly, west o' theriver. Let's go out an' see 'bout thet stage. "

As he rounded the table, Molly rose to her feet, and held out her hand. 

"I am so glad I spoke to you, Mr. Moylan, " she said simply. "I am notat all afraid now. If you will wait until I get my hat, I 'll be downin a minute. "

"Sutler Bill" stood in the narrow hall watching her run swiftlyupstairs, twirling his hat in his hands, his good-natured face flushed. Once he glanced in the direction of the bar-room, wiping his lips withhis cuff, and his feet shuffled. But he resisted the temptation, andwas still there when Miss McDonald came down. 

CHAPTER IV

THE ATTACK

Slightly more than sixty miles, as the route ran, stretched between oldFort Dodge and the ford crossing the Arkansas leading down to theCimarron; another sixty miles distant, across a desert of alkali andsand, lay Devere. The main Santa Fé trail, broad and deeply rutted bythe innumerable wheels of early spring caravans, followed the generalcourse of the river, occasionally touching the higher level plains, butmostly keeping close beneath the protection of the northern bluffs, orelse skirting the edge of the water. Night or day the route was easilyfollowed, and, in other years, the traveller was seldom for long out ofsight of toiling wagons. Now scarcely a wheel turned in all thatlonely distance. 

The west-bound stage left the station at Deer Creek at four o'clock inthe afternoon with no intimation of danger ahead. Its occupants hadeaten dinner in company with those of the east-bound coach, eighteenmiles down the river at Cañon Bluff, and the in-coming driver hadreported an open road, and no unusual trouble. No Indian signs hadbeen observed, not even signal fires during the night, and theconductor, who had come straight from Santa Fé, reported that troopsfrom Fort Union had driven the only known bunch of raiders back fromthe neighborhood of the trail, and had them already safely corralled Inthe mountains. This report, seemingly authentic and official, servedto relax the nerves, and the west-bound driver sang to himself as heguided the four horses forward, while the conductor, a sawed-off gunplanted between his knees, nodded drowsily. Inside there were butthree passengers, jerking back and forth, as the wheels struck the deepruts of the trail, occasionally exchanging a word or two, but usuallystaring gloomily forth at the monotonous scene. Miss McDonald andMoylan occupied the back seat, some baggage wedged tightly between tokeep them more secure on the slippery cushion, while facing them, andclinging to his support with both hands, was a pock-marked Mexican, with rather villainous face and ornate dress, and excessively politemanners. He had joined the little party at Dodge, smiling happily atsight of Miss Molly's face when she unveiled, although his smallknowledge of English prevented any extended effort at conversation. Moylan, however, after careful scrutiny, engaged him shortly inSpanish, and later explained to the girl, in low tones, that the manwas a Santa Fé gambler known as Gonzales, with a reputation to behinted at but not openly discussed. 

They were some six miles to the west of Deer Creek, the horses stillmoving with spirit, the driver's foot on the brake, when the stage tooka sudden plunge down a sloping bank where the valley perceptiblynarrowed. To the left, beyond a flat expanse of brown, sun-scorchedgrass, flowed the widely-spreading waters of the Arkansas, barelycovering the treacherous sandy bottom, and from the other side came themore distant gleam of alkali plains; to the right arose the bluffs, here both steep and rugged, completely shutting off the view, barren ofvegetation except for a few scattered patches of grass. Suddenly a manrode out of a rift in the bank, directly in front, and held up hishand. Surprised, startled, the driver instantaneously clamped on hisbrake, and brought his horses to a quick stop; the conductor, nearlyflung from his seat, yanked his gun forward. 

"None of that now, " called out the man in saddle quickly, both handsuplifted to show their emptiness. "This is no hold-up. I 've gotnews. "

He spurred his pony forward slowly, the animal seemingly barely able tomove, and swung out of the saddle beside the front wheel, staggering abit as though his limbs were cramped as his feet felt the ground. 

"I 'm from Fort Union, " he said, "Seventh Cavalry, sent through by wayof Cimarron Springs. There is hell to pay west of here; the stationsat Arkansas Crossing and Low Water were burned last night. "

"The devil you say, " burst out the driver hoarsely, his startled eyessweeping the horizon. "Injuns?"

"Sure, plenty of signs, but I have n't seen any bucks myself. As soonas I discovered what had happened at the Crossing I struck out on tothe plateau, and came around that way to warn those fellows at LowWater. But when I got sight of that station from off the bluffs yonderit had been wiped out. Then I thought about this stage going westto-day, and came on to meet you. Must have ridden a hundred an' twentymiles since yesterday; the mustang is all in. "

Moylan stuck his head out the nearest window. 

"Look like they had much of a fight at the Crossing?" he asked. 

"Not much; more like a night raid; two whites killed, and scalped. Thethird man either was taken away, or his body got burnt in the building. Horses all gone. "

"What tribe?"

"Arapahoes, from the way they scalped; that's what made it soserious--if those Northern Indians have broken loose there is going tobe war this time for sure. "

The men on the box looked at each other questioningly. 

"I don't see no use tryin' to go on, Jake, do you?" asked the driversoberly. "Even if we do git through, thar ain't no hosses to be had. "

The other shook his head, rubbing his gun-stock. 

"Most likely those same red devils are layin' for us now somewharbetween yere an' Low Water; whar the trail runs in between them two bigrocks, most probable, " he concluded. "Not havin' no ha'r to lose, I 'mfer goin' back. "

With an oath of relief, the driver released his brake, and skilfullyswung the leaders around, the coach groaning as it took the sharp turn. The man on the ground caught a swiftly passing glimpse of the youngwoman's face within, and strode hurriedly forward as the coach started. 

"Hold on there, pardner, " he commanded sternly. "This poor bronc'won't travel another mile. There 's plenty of room for me inside, andI 'll turn the tired devil loose. Hold on, I say!"

The driver once again slapped on the brake, growling and reluctant, hisanxious eyes searching the trail in both directions. Hamlin quietlyuncinched his saddle, flinging it to the coach roof; the bridlefollowed, and then, with a slap on the haunch of the released animal, he strode to the stage door, thrust his Henry rifle within, and tookthe vacant seat beside Gonzales. With a sudden crack of the driver'swhip the four horses leaped forward, and the coach careened on theslope of the trail, causing the passengers to clutch wildly to keepfrom being precipitated into a mass on the floor. As the tracesstraightened, Miss Molly, clinging desperately to a strap, caught herfirst fair glance at the newcomer. His hat was tilted back, the lightrevealing lines of weariness and a coating of the gray, powdery dust ofthe alkali desert, but beneath it appeared the brown, sun-scorchedskin, while the gray eyes looking straight at her, were resolute andsmiling. His rough shirt, open at the throat, might have been theproduct of any sutler's counter; he wore no jacket, and the broadyellow stripe down the leg of the faded blue trousers alone proclaimedhim a soldier. He smiled across at her, and she lowered her eyes, while his glance wandered on toward the others. 

"Don't seem to be very crowded to-day, " he began, genially addressingMoylan. "Not an extremely popular route at present, I reckon. Mining, pardner?"

"No; post-trader at Fort Marcy. "

"Oh, that's it, " his eyebrows lifting slightly. "This Indian businessis a bad job for you then. " His eyes fell on his seatmate. "Well, ifthis is n't little Gonzales!--You 've got a good ways from home. "

"Si, señor!" returned the Mexican brokenly. "I tink I not remem. "

"No, I reckon not. I'm not one of your class; cards and I never didagree. I shut up your game once down at Union; night Hassinger waskilled. Remember now, don't you?"

"Si, señor, " spreading his hands. "It was mos' unfortunate. "

"Would have been more so, if the boys had got hold of you--Saint Anne!but that fellow on the box is driving some. "

The thud of the horses' feet under the lash, coupled with the recklesslurching of the coach, ended all further attempt at conversation, andthe four passengers held on grimly, and stared out of the windows, asif expecting every instant that some accident would hurl them headlong. The frightened driver was apparently sparing neither whip nor tongue, the galloping teams jerking the stage after them in a mad race up thetrail. Hamlin thrust his head out of the nearest window, but a suddenlurch hurled him back, the coach taking a sharp curve on two wheels, and coming down level once again with a bump which brought the wholefour together. The little Mexican started to scream out a Spanishoath, but Hamlin gripped his throat before it was half uttered, whileMoylan pressed the girl back into her seat, bracing himself to hold herfirm. 

"What the devil--" he began angrily, and then the careening coachstopped as suddenly as though it had struck the bank, again tearingloose their handhold on the seats and flinging them headlong. Theyheard the creaking clamp of the brakes, the dancing of frightenedhorses, a perfect volley of oaths, the crunch of feet as men leapedfrom the top to the ground; then, all at once, the stage lurchedforward, swerving sharply to the left, and struck out across the flatdirectly toward the bluff. 

Hamlin struggled to the nearest window, and, grasping the sill to holdhimself upright, leaned out. He caught a momentary glimpse of two menriding swiftly up the trail; the box above was empty, the wheelersalone remained in harness, and they were running uncontrolled. 

"By God!" he muttered. "Those two damn cowards have cut loose and leftus!"

Even as the unrestrained words leaped from his lips, he realized theonly hope--the reins still dangled, caught securely in the brake lever. Inch by inch, foot by foot, he wiggled out; Moylan, comprehending, caught his legs, holding him steady against the mad pitching. Hisfingers gripped the iron top rail, and, exerting all his strength, heslowly pulled his body up, until he fell forward into the driver'sseat. Swift as he had been, the action was not quickly enoughconceived to avert disaster. He had the reins in his grip when theswinging pole struck the steep side of the bluff, snapping off with asharp crack, and flinging down the frightened animals, the wheels, crashing against them, as the coach came to a sudden halt. Hamlin hungon grimly, flung forward to the footrail by the force of the shock, hisbody bruised and aching. One horse lay motionless, head under, apparently instantly killed; his mate struggled to his feet, torefrantically loose from the traces, and went flying madly down theslope, the broken harness dangling at its heels. The Sergeant sat upand stared about, sweeping the blood from a slight gash out of hiseyes. Then he came to himself with a gasp--understanding instantlywhat it all meant, why those men had cut loose the horses and riddenaway, why the wheelers had plunged forward in that mad run-awayrace--between the bluffs and the river a swarm of Indians were lashingtheir ponies, spreading out like the sticks of a fan. 

CHAPTER V

THE DEFENCE OF THE STAGE

There were times when Hamlin's mental processes seemed slow, almostsluggish, but this was never true in moments of emergency and peril. Then he became swift, impetuous, seemingly borne forward by someinspiring instinct. It was for such experiences as this that heremained in the service--his whole nature responding almost joyously tothe bugle-call of action, of imminent danger, his nerves steadying intorock. These were the characteristics which had won him his chevrons inthe unrewarded service of the frontier, and, when scarcely more than aboy, had put a captain's bars on the gray collar of his Confederateuniform. 

Now, as he struggled to his knees, gripping the iron foot-rail with onehand, a single glance gave him a distinct impression of their desperatesituation. With that knowledge, there likewise flashed over his mindthe only possible means of defence. The Indians, numbering at leastthirty, had ridden recklessly out from under the protection of theriver bank, spreading to right and left, as their ponies' hoofs struckthe turf, and were now charging down upon the disabled coach, yellingmadly and brandishing their guns. The very reckless abandon of theiradvance expressed the conception they had of the situation--they hadwitnessed the flight of the two fugitives, the runaway of the wheelers, and believed the remaining passengers would be helpless victims. Theycame on, savage and confident, not anticipating a fight, but amassacre--shrieking prisoners, and a glut of revenge. 

With one swing of his body, Hamlin was upon the ground, and had jerkedopen the inside door of the coach, forcing it back against the dirt ofthe bluff which towered in protection above. His eyes were quick toperceive the peculiar advantage of position; that their assailantswould be compelled to advance from only one direction. The threewithin were barely struggling to their feet, dazed, bewildered, failingas yet to comprehend fully those distant yells, when he sprang intotheir midst, uttering his swift orders, and unceremoniously jerking themen into position for defence. 

"Here, quick now! Don't waste time! It's a matter of seconds, I tellyou! They're coming--a horde of them. Here, Moylan, take this riflebarrel and knock a hole through the back there big enough to sight outof. Hit it hard, damn you, it's a case of life or death! What haveyou got, Gonzales? A revolver? Into that window there, and blazeaway; you 've got the reputation of a gun-man; now let's see you proveit. Get back in the corner, miss, so I can slip past--no, lie downbelow the fire line!"

"But--but I will not!" and she faced him, her face white, but her eyesshining. "I can shoot! See!" and she flashed a pearl-handled revolverdefiantly. The Sergeant thrust her unceremoniously aside and plungedacross to the opposite window, gripping his Henry rifle. 

"Do as I say, " he growled. "This is our fight. Get down! Now, youterriers, let them have it!"

There was a wild skurrying of mounted figures almost at the coachwheels, hair streaming, feathers waving, lean, red arms thrown up, theair vocal with shrill outcries--then the dull bark of a Henry, the boomof a Winchester, the sharp spitting of a Colt. The smoke rolled out ina cloud, pungent, concealing, nervous fingers pressing the triggersagain and again. They could see reeling horses, men gripping theirponies' manes to keep erect, staring, frightened eyes, animals flungback on their haunches, rearing madly in the air. The fierce yell ofexultation changed into a savage scream, bullets crashed into the thinsides of the coach; it rocked with the contact of a half-naked bodyflung forward by a plunging horse; the Mexican swore wildly in Spanish, and then--the smoke blew aside and they saw the field; the dead anddying ponies, three motionless bodies huddled on the grass, a fewdismounted stragglers racing on foot for the river bank, and a squad ofriders circling beyond the trail. Hamlin swept the mingled sweat andblood out of his eyes, smiled grimly, and glanced back into the coach, instinctively slipping fresh cartridges into his hot rifle. 

"That's one time those fellows ran into a hornet's nest, " he commentedquietly, all trace of excitement vanished. "Better load up, boys, forwe 're not through yet--they 'll only be more careful next time. Anybody hurt?"

"Somethin' creased my back, " replied Moylan, complainingly, and tryingvainly to put a hand on the spot. "Felt like a streak o' fire. " TheSergeant reached across, fingering the torn shirt curiously. 

"Seared the flesh, pardner, but no blood worth mentioning. They 'vegot some heavy artillery out there from the sound--old army musketslikely. It is our repeating rifles that will win out--those red devilsdon't understand them yet. "

"Señor, you tink we win out den?" and Gonzales peered up blinking intothe other's face. "Sacre! dey vil fight deeferent de nex' time. ZeAmericaine muskeet, eet carry so far--ess eet not so?"

Hamlin patted his brown barrel affectionately as if it were an oldfriend, and smiled across into the questioning eyes of the girl. 

"I 'm willing to back this weapon against the best of them fordistance, " he replied easily, "and it's accurate besides. How aboutit, Moylan?"

"I 'd about as soon be in front as behind one of them cannon, " answeredthe sutler soberly. "I toted one four years. But say, pardner, what'syer name? Yer a cavalryman, ain't yer?"

"Sergeant--forgot I was n't properly introduced, " and he bent his headslightly, glancing again toward the girl. "Hamlin is the rest of it. "

"'Brick' Hamlin?"

"Sometimes--delicate reference to my hair, miss, " and he took off hishat, his gray eyes laughing. "Born that way, but does n't seem tointerfere with me much, since I was a kid. You 've heard of me then, Moylan? So has our little friend, Gonzales, here. "

The sober-faced sutler merely nodded, evidently in no mood forpleasantry. 

"Oh, ye're all right, " he said finally. "I've heard 'em say you was afighter down round Santa Fé, an' I know it myself now. But what thehell are we goin' to do? This yere stagecoach ain't much of a fort tokeep off a bunch o' redskins once they git their mad up. Them musketbullets go through like the sides was paper, an' I reckon we ain't gotno over-supply o' ammunition--I know I ain't fer this Winchester. Howlong do yer reckon we kin hold out?"

Hamlin's face became grave, his eyes also, turning toward the river. The sun was already sinking low in the west, and the Indians, gatheredin council out of rifle-shot, were like shadows against the glimmeringwater beyond. 

"They 'll try us again just before dark, " he affirmed slowly, "but morecautiously. If that attack fails, then they 'll endeavor to creep in, and take us by surprise. It's going to be a clear night, and there issmall chance for even an Indian to hide in that buffalo-grass with thestars shining. They have got to come up from below, for no buck couldclimb down this bluff without making a noise. I don't see why, withdecent luck, we can't hold out as we are until help gets here; thosefellows who rode away will report at Cañon Bluff and send a rider on toDodge for help. There ought to be soldiers out here by noon to-morrow. What troops are at Dodge now?"

"Only a single company--infantry, " replied Moylan gloomily. "All therest are out scouting 'long the Solomon. Damned if I believe they 'llsend us a man. Those two cowards will likely report us alldead--otherwise they would n't have any excuse for runnin' away--andthe commander will satisfy himself by sendin' a courier to the fellersin the field. "

"Well, then, " commented the Sergeant, his eyes gleaming, "we 've simplygot to fight it out alone, I reckon, and hang on to our last shots. What do you make of those reds?"

The three men stared for some time at the distant group over theirrifles, in silence. 

"They ain't all Arapahoes, that 's certain, " said Moylan at last. "Some of 'em are Cheyennes. I 've seen that chief before--it's RomanNose. "

"The big buck humped up on the roan?"

"That's the one, and he is a bad actor; saw him once over at FortKearney two years ago. Had a council there. Say!" in surprise, "ain'tthat an Ogalla Sioux war bonnet bobbin' there to the right, Sergeant?"

Hamlin studied the distant feathered head-dress indicated, shading hiseyes with one hand. 

"I reckon maybe it is, Moylan, " he acknowledged at last gravely. "Those fellows have evidently got together; we're going to have thebiggest scrap this summer the old army has had yet. Looks as though itwas going to begin right here--and now. See there! The dance is on, boys; there they come; they will try it on foot this time. "

He tested his rifle, resting one knee on the seat; Moylan pushed thebarrel of his Winchester out through the ragged hole in the back of thecoach, and the little Mexican lay flat, his eyes on the level with thewindow-casing. The girl alone remained motionless, crouched on thefloor, her white face uplifted. 

The entire field stretching to the river was clear to the view, theshort, dry buffalo-grass offering no concealment. To the right of thecoach, some fifty feet away, was the only depression, a shallow gullyleading down from the bluff, but this slight advantage was unavailable. The sun had already dropped from view, and the gathering twilightdistorted the figures, making them almost grotesque in their savagery. Yet they could be clearly distinguished, stealing silently forward, guns in hand, spreading out in a wide half-circle, obedient to thegestures of Roman Nose, who, still mounted upon his pony, wastraversing the river bank, his every motion outlined against the dullgleam of water behind him. From the black depths of the coach thethree men watched in almost breathless silence, gripping their weapons, fascinated, determined not to waste a shot. Gonzales, under thestrain, uttered a fierce Spanish curse, but Hamlin crushed his armbetween iron fingers. 

"Keep still, you fool!" he muttered, never glancing around. "Let yourgun talk!"

The assailants came creeping on, snakes rather than men, appearing lessand less human in the increasing shadows. Twice the Sergeant liftedhis Henry, sighting along the brown barrel, lowering the weapon againin doubt of the distance. He was conscious of exultation, of a swifterpulse of the heart, yet his nerves were like steel, his grip steady. Only a dim fleeting memory of the girl, half hidden in the darknessbehind, gave him uneasiness--he could not turn and look into her eyes. Roman Nose was advancing now at the centre of that creeping halfcircle, a hulking figure perched on his pony's back, yet well out ofrifle range. He spread his hands apart, clasping a blanket, lookinglike a great bird flapping its wings, and the ground in front flamed, the red flare splitting the gray gloom. The speeding bullets crashedthrough the leather of the coach, splintering the wood; the Mexicanrolled to the floor, uttering one inhuman cry, and lay motionless; agreat volume of black smoke wavered in the still air. 

"Walt! Wait until they get to their feet!" Hamlin cried eagerly. "Ah!there they come--now unlimber. "

He saw only those black, indistinct figures, leaping out of the smoke, converging on the coach, their naked arms uplifted, their voicesmingling in savage yells. Like lightning he worked his rifle, heartthrobbing to the excitement, oblivious to all else; almost withoutrealization he heard the deeper bellow of Moylan's Winchester, thesharp bark of a revolver at his very ear. Gonzales was all right, then! Good! He never thought of the girl, never saw her grip thepistol from the Mexican's dead hand, and crawl white-faced, over hisbody, to that front seat. All he really knew was that those devilswere coming, leaping, crowding through the smoke wreathes; he saw themstumble, and rise again; he saw one leap into the air, and then crashface down; he saw them break, circling to right and left, crouching asthey ran. Two reached the stage--only two! One pitched forward, arevolver bullet between his eyes, his head wedged in the spokes of thewheel; the other Hamlin struck with emptied rifle-barrel as his redhand gripped the door, sending him sprawling back into the dirt. Itwas all the work of a minute, an awful minute, intense, breathless--then silence, the smoke drifting away, the dark nighthiding the skulking runners. 

CHAPTER VI

THE CONDITION IN THE COACH

Mechanically--scarcely conscious of the action--the Sergeant slippedfresh cartridges into the hot rifle chamber, swept the tumbled hair outof his eyes with his shirt sleeve, and stared into the night. He couldhardly comprehend yet that the affair was ended, the second attackrepulsed. It was like a delirium of fever; he almost expected to seethose motionless bodies outstretched on the grass spring up, yellingdefiance. Then he gripped himself firmly, realizing the truth--it wasover with for the present; away off there in the haze obscuring theriver bank those indistinct black smudges were fleeing savages, theirvoices wailing through the night. Just in front, formless, huddledwhere they had fallen, were the bodies of dead and dying, smittenponies and half-naked men. He drew a deep breath through clinchedteeth, endeavoring to distinguish his comrades. 

The interior of the coach was black, and soundless, except for someone's swift, excited breathing. As he extended his cramped leg to thefloor he touched a motionless body. Not until then had he realized thepossibility of death also within. He felt downward with one hand, hisnerves suddenly throbbing, and his finger touched a cold face--theMexican. It must have been that last volley, for he could distinctlyrecall the sharp bark of Gonzales' revolver between his own shots. 

"The little devil, " he muttered soberly. "It was a squarer death thanhe deserved. He was a game little cock. "

Then he thought of Moylan, wondering why the man did not move, orspeak. That was not like Moylan. He bent forward, half afraid in thestillness, endeavoring to discover space on the floor for both hisfeet. He could perceive now a distant star showing clear through theragged opening jabbed in the back of the coach, but no outline of thesutler's burly shoulders. 

"Moylan!" he called, hardly above a whisper. "What is the trouble?Have you been hit, man?"

There was no answer, no responding sound, and he stood up, reachingkindly over across the seat. Then he knew, and felt a shudder runthrough him from head to foot. Bent double over the iron back of themiddle seat, with hands still gripping his hot rifle, the man hung, limp and lifeless. Almost without realizing the act, Hamlin lifted theheavy body, laid it down upon the cushion, and unclasped the deadfingers gripping the Winchester stock. 

"Every shot gone, " he whispered to himself dazedly, "every shot gone!Ain't that hell!"

Then it came to him in a sudden flash of intelligence--he was alone;alone except for the girl. They were out there yet, skulking in thenight, planning revenge, those savage foemen--Arapahoes, Cheyennes, Ogallas. They had been beaten back, defeated, smitten with death, butthey were Indians still. They would come back for the bodies of theirslain, and then--what? They could not know who were living, who dead, in the coach; yet must have discovered long since that it had onlycontained three defenders. They would guess that ammunition would belimited. His knowledge of the fighting tactics of the Plains tribesgave clear vision of what would probably occur. They would wait, scattered out in a wide circle from bluff to bluff, lying snake-like inthe grass. Some of the bolder might creep in to drag away the bodiesof dead warriors, risking a chance shot, but there would be no openattack in the dark. That would be averse to all Indian strategy, allprecedent. Even now the mournful wailing had ceased; Roman Nose hadrallied his warriors, instilled into them his own unconquerablesavagery, and set them on watch. With the first gray dawn they wouldcome again, leaping to the coach's wheels, yelling, triumphant, madwith new ferocity--and he was alone, except for the girl. 

And where was she? He felt for her on the floor, but only touched theMexican's feet. He had to lean across the seat where Moylan's bodylay, shrouded in darkness, before his groping fingers came in contactwith the skirt of her dress. She was on the front seat, close to thewindow; against the lightness of the outer sky, her head seemed lyingupon the wooden frame. She did not move, he could not even tell thatshe breathed, and for an instant his dry lips failed him utterly, hisblood seemed to stop. Good God! Had she been killed also? How, inHeaven's name, did she ever get there? Then suddenly she lifted herhead slightly, brushing back her hair with one arm; the faint starlightgleamed on a short steel barrel. The Sergeant expelled his breathswiftly, wetting his dry lips. 

"Are you hurt?" he questioned anxiously. "Lord, but you gave me ascare!"

She seemed to hear his voice, yet scarcely to understand, like onearoused suddenly from sleep. 

"What! you spoke--then--then--there are others? I--I am not here allalone?"

"Not if you count me, " he said, a trace of recklessness in the answer. "I have n't even a scratch so far as I know. Did they touch you?"

"No; that is, I am not quite sure; it--it was all so horrible I cannotremember. Who are you? Are you the--the soldier?"

"Yes--I 'm Hamlin. Would you mind telling me how you ever got overthere?"

She straightened up, seemed to notice the heavy revolver in herfingers, and let it fall to the floor. 

"Oh, it is like a dream--an awful dream. I could n't help myself. When the Mexican rolled off on to the floor, I knew he was dead, and--and there was his revolver held right out to me in his hand. Before I realized I had it, and was up here--I--I killed one--he--hefell in the wheel; I--I can never forget that!"

"Don't try, " broke in Hamlin earnestly. "You 're all right, " he added, admiration in his voice. "And so it was you there with the small gun. I heard it bark, but never knew Gonzales was hit. When did it happen?"

"When--when they fired first. It--it was all smoke out there when Igot to the window; they--they looked like--like wild beasts, and it didn't seem to me I was myself at all. "

The man laughed lightly. 

"You did the right thing, that 's all, " he consoled, anxious to controlher excitement. "Now you and I must decide what to do next--we are allalone. "

"Alone! Has Mr. Moylan been hit also?"

"Yes, " he answered, feeling it was better to tell her frankly. "He wasshot, and is beyond our help. But come, " and he reached over and tookher hand, "you must not give up now. "

She offered no resistance, but sat motionless, her face turned away. Yet she knew she trembled from head to foot, the reaction masteringher. A red tongue of flame seemed to slit the outside blackness; therewas a single sharp report, echoing back from the bluff, but no sound ofthe striking bullet. Just an instant he caught a glimpse of her face, as she drew back, startled. 

"Oh, they are coming again! What shall we do?"

"No, " he insisted, still retaining her hand, confident in his judgment. "Those fellows will not attempt to rush us again to-night. You mustkeep cool, for we shall need all our wits to get away. An Indian neverrisks a night assault, unless it is a surprise. He wants to see whathe is up against. Those bucks have got all they want of this outfit;they have no reason to suppose any of us were hit. They are as muchafraid as we are, but when it gets daylight, and they can see the shapewe 're in, then they 'll come yelling. "

"But they can lie out there in the dark and shoot, " she protested. "That shot was aimed at us, was n't it?"

"I reckon it was, but it never got here. Don't let that worry you; ifan Indian ever hits anything with a gun it 's going to be by pureaccident. " He stared out of the window. "They 're liable to bang awayoccasionally, and I suppose it is up to us to make some response justto tell them we 're awake and ready. But they ain't firing expectingto do damage--only to attract attention while they haul off their dead. There 's a red snake yonder now creeping along in the grass--see!"

"No, " hysterically, "it is just black to me. "

"You have n't got the plainsman's eyes yet. Watch, now; I 'm going tostir the fellow up. "

He leaned forward, the stock of the Henry held to his shoulder, and sheclutched the window-casing. An instant the muzzle of the rifle waveredslightly, then steadied into position. 

"Have to guess the distance, " he muttered in explanation, and pulledthe trigger. 

There was a lightning flash, a sharp ringing report, a yell in thedistance, followed by the sound of scrambling. Hamlin laughed, as helowered his gun. 

"Made him hump, anyway, " he commented cheerfully. "Now what comesnext?"

"I--I do not know, " she answered, as though the question had been askedher, "do you?"

Somehow she was not as frightened as she had been. The calm steadycoolness of the man was having its natural effect, was helping tocontrol her own nerves. She felt his strength, his confidence, and wasbeginning to lean upon him--he seemed to know exactly what he was about. 

"Well, no, honestly I don't; not yet, " he returned, hesitatingslightly. "There is no use denying we are in a mighty bad hole. IfMoylan had n't got shot we might have held out till help arrived; I 'vegot about twenty cartridges left; but you and I alone never could doit. I 've got to think it out, I reckon; this has been a blind fightso far; nothing to it but blazing away as fast as I could pull trigger. Now, maybe, I can use my brains a bit. "

She could not see him, but some instinct led her to put out her handand touch the rough sleeve of his shirt. It made her sure of hispresence, his protection. The man felt the movement, and understoodits meaning, his heart throbbing strangely. 

"You are going to trust me?"

"Of--of course; how could you doubt that?"

"Well, " still half questioning, "you see I 'm only an enlisted man, andsometimes officers' ladies think we are mostly pretty poor stuff, justfood for powder. "

She tightened her grip on his sleeve, drawing a quick breath ofsurprise. 

"Oh, but I am not like that; truly I am not. I--I saw your face thisafternoon, and--and I liked you then. I will do whatever you say. "

"Thank you, " he said simply. "To know that makes everything so mucheasier for me. We shall have to work together from now on. You keepsharp watch at the window there, while I think a bit--there 'sordinarily a chance somewhere, you know, if one is only bright enoughto uncover it. "

How still the night was, and dark; although the sky was cloudless, thestars shone clearly away up in the black vault. Not even the howl of adistant coyote broke the silence. To the left, seemingly a fullhalf-mile distant, was the red flicker of a fire, barely visible behinda projection of bank. But in front not even the keen eyes of theSergeant could distinguish any sign of movement. Apparently theIndians had abandoned their attempt to recover the bodies of their dead. 

CHAPTER VII

PLANS FOR ESCAPE

Desperate as he certainly felt their situation to be, for a moment ortwo Hamlin was unable to cast aside the influence of the girl, orconcentrate his thoughts on some plan for escape. It may have been thegentle pressure of her hand upon his sleeve, but her voice continued toring in his ears. He had never been a woman's man, nor was hespecially interested in this woman beside him. He had seen her fairly, with his first appreciative glance, when he had climbed into the stageon the preceding day. He had realized there fully the charm of herface, the dark roguish eyes, the clear skin, the wealth of dark hair. Yet all this was impersonal; however pretty she might be, the fact wasnothing to him and never could be. Knowing who she was, hecomprehended instantly the social gulf stretching unbridged betweenthem. An educated man himself, with family connections he had long agoceased to discuss, he realized his present position more keenly than heotherwise might. He had enlisted in the army with no misunderstandingas to what a private's uniform meant. He had never heretofore supposedhe regretted any loss in this respect, his nature apparently satisfiedwith the excitement of active frontier service, yet he vaguely knewthere had been times when he longed for companionship with women of theclass to which he had once belonged. Fortunately his border stationsoffered little temptation in this respect, and he had grown to believethat he had actually forgotten. That afternoon even--sweetly fair asMiss McDonald undoubtedly appeared--he had looked upon her without thethrob of a pulse, as he might upon a picture. She was not for him evento admire--she was Major McDonald's daughter, whom he had been sent toguard. That was all then. 

Yet he knew that somehow it was different now--the personal element hadentered unwelcomed, into the equation. Sitting there in the dark, Gonzales' body crumpled on the floor at his feet, and Moylan lyingstiff and cold along the back seat, with this girl grasping his sleevein trust, she remained no longer merely the Major's daughter--she hadbecome _herself_. And she did not seem to care and did not seem torealize that there were barriers of rank, which under othercircumstances must so utterly separate them. She liked him, andfrankly told him so, not as she would dismiss an inferior withkindness, but as though he was an equal, as though he was a gentleman. Somehow the very tone of her voice, the clinging touch of her hand, sent the blood pumping through his veins. Something besides dutyinspired him; he was no longer merely a soldier, but had suddenlybecome transformed into a man. Years of repression, of irondiscipline, were blotted out, and he became even as his birthright madehim. "Molly McDonald, " "Molly McDonald, " he whispered the nameunconsciously to himself. Then his eyes caught the distant flicker ofIndian fire, and his teeth locked savagely. 

There was something else to do besides dream. Because the girl hadspoken pleasantly was no reason why he should act the fool. Angry athimself, he gripped his faculties, and faced the situation, aroused, intent. He must save himself--and _her_! But how? What plan promisedany possibility of success? He had their surroundings in a map beforehis eyes. His training had taught him to note and remember what otherswould as naturally neglect. He was a soldier of experience, aplainsman by long training, and even in the fierceness of the Indians'attack on the stage his quick glance had completely visualized theirsurroundings. He had not appreciated this at the time, but now thetopography of the immediate region was unrolled before him in detail;yard by yard it reappeared as though photographed. He saw the widelyrutted trail, rounding the bluff at the right a hundred yards away, curving sharply down the slope and then disappearing over the low hillto the left, a slight stream trickling along its base. Below, theshort buffalo-grass, sunburned and brittle, ran to the sandy edge ofthe river, which flowed silently in a broad, shallow, yellow floodbeneath the star gleam. Under the protection of that bank, butsomewhat to the left, where a handful of stunted cottonwood trees hadfound precarious foothold in the sand, gleamed the solitary Indianfire. About its embers, no doubt, squatted the chiefs and olderwarriors, feasting and taking council, while the younger bucks lay, rifles in hand, along the night-enshrouded slope, their cruel, vengefuleyes seeking to distinguish the outlines of the coach against the blackcurtain of the bluff. 

This had proven thus far their salvation--that steep uplift of earthagainst which the stage had crashed in its mad dash--for itsprecipitant front had compelled the savages to attack from onedirection only, a slight overhang, not unlike a roof, making itimpossible even to shoot down from above. But this same sharp inclinewas now likewise a preventive of escape. Hamlin shook his head as herecalled to mind its steep ascent, without root or shrub to cling to. No, it would never do to attempt that; not with her. Perhaps alone hemight scramble up somehow, but with her the feat would be impossible. He dismissed this as hopeless, his memory of their surroundingsdrifting from point to point aimlessly. He saw the whole barren vistaas it last stood revealed under the glow of the sun--the desolateplateau above, stretching away into the dim north, the brown level ofthe plains, broken only by sharp fissures In the surface, treeless, extending for unnumbered leagues. To east and west the valley, nowscarcely more green than those upper plains, bounded by its verdurelessbluffs, ran crookedly, following the river course, its only sign ofwhite dominion the rutted trail. Beyond the stream there extendedmiles of white sand-dunes, fantastically shapen by the wind, graduallychanging into barren plains of alkali. Between crouched the vigilantIndian sentinels, alert and revengeful. 

Certain facts were clear--to remain meant death, torture for him ifthey were taken alive, and worse than death for her. Perspirationburst out upon his face at the thought. No! Great God! not that; hewould kill her himself first. Yet this was the truth, the truth to befaced. The nearest available troops were at Dodge, a company ofinfantry. If they started at once they could never arrive in time toprevent an attack at daybreak. The Indians undoubtedly knew this, realized the utter helplessness of their victims, and were actingaccordingly. Otherwise they would never have lighted that fire norremained on guard. Moreover if the two of them should succeed instealing forth from the shelter of the coach, should skulk unseen amidthe dense blackness of the overhanging bluff, eluding the watchers, what would it profit in the end? Their trail would be clear; with thefirst gray of dawn those savage trackers would be at work, and theywould be trapped in the open, on foot, utterly helpless even to fight. 

The man's hands clenched and unclenched about his rifle-barrel in anagony of indecision, his eyes perceiving the silhouette of the girlagainst the lighter arc of sky. No, not that--not that! They musthide their trail, leave behind no faintest trace of passage for thesehounds to follow. Yet how could the miracle be accomplished? Out fromthe mists of tortured memory came, as a faint hope, a dim recollectionof that narrow gully cutting straight down across the trail, over whichthe runaway had crashed in full gallop. That surely could not be farback, and was of sufficient depth to hide them in the darkness. He wasuncertain how far it extended, but at some time it had been awater-course and must have reached the river. And the river would hidetheir trail! A new hope sprang into his eyes. He felt the suddenstraightening up of his body. 

"What--what is it?" she questioned, startled. "Do you see anything?Are they coming?"

"No, no, " almost impatiently. "It is still as death out there, but Ialmost believe I have discovered a means of escape. Do you remember agully we ran over while I was on top of the stage?"

"I am not sure; was it when that awful jolt came?"

"Yes, it flung me to the foot-board just when I had untangled thelines. We could not have travelled a dozen yards farther before westruck this bluff--could we?"

"I hardly think so, " yet evidently bewildered by his rapid questioning. "Only I was so confused and frightened I can scarcely remember. Whyare you so anxious to know?"

"Because, " he returned earnestly, bending toward her, "I believe thatgash in the earth is going to get us out of here. Anyhow it is theonly chance I can figure. If we can creep through to the river, undiscovered, I 'll agree to leave Mister Indian guessing as to wherewe 've gone. "

The new note of animation in the man's voice aroused her, but shegrasped his arm tighter. 

"But--but, oh, can we? Won't they be hiding there too?"

"It's a chance, that's all--but better than waiting here for acertainty. See here, Miss McDonald, " and he caught her hand in hisown, forgetful of all save his own purpose and the necessity ofstrengthening her to play out the game, "the trend of that gulf is tothe west; except up here close to the bluff it runs too far away for aguard line. The Indians will be lying out here on the open prairie;they will creep as close in as they dare under cover of darkness. I'll bet there are twenty red snakes now within a hundred feet ofus--oh, don't shiver and lose your nerve! They 'll not try to closethat gap yet; it's too dangerous with us on guard and only one side ofthe coach exposed. That fellow was trying us out a while ago, and they've kept quiet ever since I let drive at him. They know the limits ofthe safety zone, and will keep there until just before daylight. Thatis when they 'll try to creep up upon us. Have you got the time?"

She opened her watch, feeling for the hands with her fingers, wonderingvaguely at her own calmness. The cool resourcefulness of Hamlin waslike a tonic. 

"It--it is a little after one o'clock, " she said slowly, "although I amnot sure my watch is exactly right. "

"Near enough; there are signs of daylight at four--three hours left;that ought to be sufficient, but with no darkness to spare. Will yougo with me? Will you do exactly as I say?"

She drew a swift breath, holding her hand to her side. 

"Oh, yes, " her voice catching, "what--what else can I do? I cannotstay here with those dead men!"

"But I want you to go because--well, because you trust me, " he urged, anew trace of tenderness in his lowered voice. "Because you know Iwould give my life to defend you. "

He was not sure, but he thought her face was suddenly uplifted, hereyes seeking to see him in the darkness. 

"I do, " she answered gravely, "you must believe I do; but I have neverbeen in such peril before, in such a situation of horror, and I am allunnerved. There doesn't seem to be anything left me but--to trust you. "

"That is good; all I can ask. I know you are all right, but I want youto keep your nerve. We are going to take a big chance; we 've got todo it--a single misplay, a slip of the foot, an incautious breath maycost our lives. "

"Are you going to try to get away? To elude the Indians?"

"Yes, and there is but one possibility of success--to creep the lengthof the gully there, and so reach the river. Here is Gonzales' belt. Don't be afraid of it; it is not dead men who are going to hurt us. Swing the strap over your shoulder this way, and slip the revolver intothe holster. That's right; we'll carry as little as we can, and leaveour hands free. " He hesitated, staring about in the darkness, swiftlydeciding what to take. "Do you happen to know if either of thepassengers carried any grub?"

"Grub?"

"Plains' term for food, " impatiently, "rations; something for lunch _enroute_. "

"Oh, yes, Mr. Moylan did; said he never took chances on having to gohungry. It was in a flat leather pouch. "

"Haversack. I have it. That will be enough to carry, with thecanteen. Now there is only one thing more before we leave. We mustimpress those fellows with the notion that we are wide-awake, and onguard yet. See any movement out there?"

"I--I am not sure, " she answered doubtfully. "There is a black smudgebeyond that dead pony; lean forward here and you can see what Imean--on the ground. I--I imagined it moved just then. " She pointedinto the darkness. "It is the merest shadow, but seemed to wigglealong, and then stop; it's still now. "

Hamlin focussed his keen eyes on the spot indicated, shading them withone hand. 

"Slide back further on the seat, " he whispered softly, "and let me innext the window. "

There was a moment's silence, the only sound the wind. The girlgripped the back of the seat nervously with both hands, holding herbreath; the Sergeant, the outline of his face silhouetted against thesky, stared motionless into the night without. Suddenly, not making asound, he lifted the rifle to his shoulder. 

CHAPTER VIII

A WAY TO THE RIVER

She waited in agony as he sighted carefully, striving to gauge thedistance. It seemed an interminable time before his finger pressed thetrigger. Then came the report, a flash of flame, and the powder smokeblown back in her face. Half-blinded by the discharge, she yet sawthat black smudge leap upright; again the Henry blazed, and the dimfigure went down. There was a cry--a mad yell of rage--in whichscattered voices joined; spits of fire cleaving the darkness, thebarking of guns of different calibre. A bit of flying lead torethrough the leather back of the coach with an odd rip; another struckthe casing of the door, sending the wooden splinters flying likearrows. Hawk-eyed, Hamlin fired twice more, aiming at the sparks, grimly certain that a responding howl from the left evidenced a hit. Then, as quickly, all was still, intensely black once more. TheSergeant drew back from the window, leaning his gun against the casing. 

"That will hold them for a while, " he said cheerfully. "Two less outthere, I reckon, and the others won't get careless again right away. Now is our time; are you ready?"

There was no response, the stillness so profound he could hear thefaint ticking of the girl's watch. He reached out, almost alarmed, andtouched her dress. 

"What is the trouble?" he questioned anxiously. "Didn't you hear mespeak?"

He waited breathless, but there was no movement, no sound, and hishand, trembling, in spite of his iron nerve, groped its way upward. She was lying back against the opposite window, her head bent sideways. 

"My God, " he thought, "did those devils get her?"

He lifted her slight figure up on one arm, all else blotted out, allother memory vanished through this instant dread. His cheek stungwhere flying splinters had struck him, but that was nothing. She waswarm, her flesh was warm; then his searching fingers felt the moistblood trickling down from the edge of her hair. He let out his breathslowly, the sudden relief almost choking him. It was bad enoughsurely, but not what he had first feared, not death. She had beenstruck hard--a flying splinter of wood, perhaps, or a deflectedbullet--her hair matted with blood, yet it was no more than a fleshwound, although leaving her unconscious. If he hesitated it was butfor an instant. The entire situation recurred to him in a flash; hemust change his plans, but dare waste no time. If they were to escapeit must be accomplished now, shadowed by darkness, while those savagewatchers were safely beyond sound. His lean jaws set with fiercedetermination, and he grimly hitched his belt forward, one sinewy handfingering the revolver. He would have to trust to that weapon entirelyfor defense; he could not carry both the rifle and the girl. 

Moving slowly, cautiously, fearful lest some creaking of the old stagemight betray his motions to those keen ears below, he backed throughthe open door. Once feeling the ground firm beneath his feet, andmaking sure that both canteen and haversack were secure, he reachedback into the darkness, grasping the form of the unconscious girl. Hestood erect with her held securely in his arms, strands of hair blowingagainst his cheek, listening intently, striving with keen eyes topenetrate the black curtain. The wind was fortunate, blowing steadilyacross the flat from the river, and they were surely invisible againstthe background of the overhanging bluff. He did not even feel itnecessary to crouch low to avoid discovery. He knew that peril wouldconfront them later, when they ventured out into the open. How lightshe seemed, as though he clasped a child. Bearing her was going to beeasier than he had supposed; the excitement yielded him a new measureof strength, yet he went forward very slowly, feeling along, inch byinch, planting his feet with exceeding care. The earth was hard-packedand would leave little trail; there were no leaves, no dead grass torustle. Beyond the protection afforded by the stage he felt the fullsweep of the wind and permitted her head to rest lower on one arm sothat he could look about more clearly. She had not even moaned, although he had felt her breath upon his face. Once he stumbledslightly over some fallen earth, and farther along a foot slipped on atreacherous stone, but the slight noise died unnoticed in the night. It was farther to the gully than he had supposed; his heart was in histhroat fearing he had missed it, half-believing the depression failedto extend to the base of the bluff. Then his foot, exploring blindly, touched the edge of the bank. Carefully he laid his burden down, placing his battered campaign hat beneath her head. He bent over heragain, assuring himself that she breathed regularly, and then creptdown alone into the shallow ravine. 

His nerves were like steel now, his hand steady, his heart beatingwithout an accelerated throb. He knew the work, and rejoiced in it. This was why he was a soldier. Silently, swiftly, he unbuckled hisbelt, refastening it across the straps so as to hold canteen andhaversack noiseless, and then, revolver in hand, began creeping downunder cover of the low banks. He must explore the path first beforeattempting to bear her along in his arms; must be sure the passage wasunguarded. After it swerved to the right there would be little danger, but while it ran straight, some cautious savage might have chosen it toskulk in. To deal with such he needed to be alone, and free. 

He must have crawled thus for thirty yards, hands and knees achinghorribly, his eyes ever peering over the edge of the bank, his earstingling to the slightest noise. The tiny glow of the fire far away tothe left was alone visible in the intense blackness; the wind broughtto him no sound of movement. The stillness was profound, almostuncanny; as he paused and listened he could distinguish the throb ofhis heart. He was across the trail at last, for he had felt and tracedthe ruts of wheels, and where the banks had been worked down almost toa level with the prairie. He crossed this opening like a snake, andthen arose to his knees beyond, where the gully deepened. He remainedpoised, motionless, scarcely daring to breathe. Surely that wassomething else--that shapeless blotch of shadow, barely topping theline of bank! Was it ten feet away? Or five? He could not tell. Hestared; there was no movement, and yet his eyes began to discern dimlythe outlines--the head and shoulders of a man! The Sergeant creptforward--an inch, two inches, a foot. The figure did not stir. Now hewas sure the fellow's head was lying flat on the turf, oddly distortedby a feathered war bonnet. The strange posture, the utter lack ofmovement, seemed proof that the tired warrior had fallen asleep onwatch. Like a cat Hamlin crept up slowly toward him, poised for aspring. 

Some sense of the wild must have stirred the savage intosemi-consciousness. Suddenly he sat up, gripping the gun in his hands. Yet even as his opening eyes saw dimly the Sergeant's menacing shadow, before he could scream his alarm, or spring upright, the revolver buttstruck with dull thud, and he went tumbling backward into the ditch, his cry of alarm ending in a hoarse croak. From somewhere, out of thedense darkness in front a voice called, sharp and guttural, as if itsowner had been startled by the mysterious sound of the blow. It wasthe language of the Arapahoes, and out of his vague memory of thetongue, spurred to recollection by the swift emergency, Hamlin growleda hoarse answer, hanging breathlessly above the motionless body untilthe "ugh!" of the fellow's response proved him without suspicion. Hewaited, counting the seconds, every muscle strained with expectancy, listening. He had a feeling that some one was crawling over the shortgrass, wiggling along like a snake, but the faint sound, if sound itwas, grew less distinct. Finally he lifted his head above the edge ofthe bank, but saw nothing, not even a dim shadow. 

"They are closing in, I reckon, " he thought soberly, "and it is n'tlikely there will be any more of these gentry as far back as this;looks as though this gully turned west just beyond. Anyhow I 've gotto risk it. "

He returned more rapidly, knowing the passage, yet with no lesscaution, finding the unconscious girl lying exactly as he had left her. As he clasped her form in his arms, her lips uttered some incoherentwords, but otherwise she gave no sign of life. 

"Yes, yes, " he whispered close to her ear, hoping thus to hold hersilent. "It is all right now; only keep still. "

He could feel her breathing, and realized the danger of her return toconsciousness. If she should be frightened and cry out, their fatewould be sealed. Yet he must accept the chance, now that he knew theway to be clear. He held her tightly in both arms, his revolver thrustback into its holster. Bending as low as he could with his burden, feeling carefully through the darkness before advancing a foot, hemoved steadily forward. Where the gully deepened their heads were atthe edge of the bank, but much of the way was exposed, except for thedark shadows of the slope. Fortunately there were clouds to the west, already obscuring that half of the sky, but to the east nothing wasvisible against the faint luminousness of the sky-line. Once, far overthere to the left, a gun was fired, the flame splitting the nightasunder, and against the distant reflection a black figure rose upbetween, only to be instantly snuffed out again. Hamlin put down hisuplifted foot, and waited, in tense, motionless silence, but nothinghappened, except the echo of a far-away voice. 

A dozen feet farther, some four-footed animal suddenly leaped to theedge of the bank, sniffed, and disappeared noiselessly. So taut werehis nerves strung that the Sergeant sank upon his knees, releasing onehand to grip his revolver, before he realized the cause of alarm--someprowling prairie wolf. Then, with teeth grimly locked, bending lowerand lower, he crept across the rutted trail, and past the dead body ofthe Indian. Not until then did he dare to breathe naturally or tostand upright; but now, the gully, bending to the right, led away fromdanger, every step gained adding to their safety. He was confidentnow, full of his old audacity, yet awake to every trick of plainscraft. The girl's head rested against his shoulder, and he bent his cheek tohers, feeling its warmth. The touch of his unshaven beard pricked herinto semi-consciousness, and she spoke so loud that it gave him athrill of apprehension. He dared not run in the darkness for fear ofstumbling, yet moved with greater swiftness, until the depression endedat the river. Here, under the protection of the bank, Hamlin put downhis burden and stood erect, stretching his strained muscles and staringback into the dark. 

What now? Which way should they turn? He had accomplished all he hadplanned for himself back there in the coach, but now he became aware ofother problems awaiting solution. In less than an hour it would bedaylight; he almost imagined it was lighter already over yonder in theeast. With the first dawn those watchful Indians, creeping cautiouslycloser, would discover the stage deserted, and would be on their trail. And they had left a trail easily followed. Perhaps the hard, dryground might confuse those savage trackers, but they would scour theopen country between bluff and river, and find the dead warrior in thegully. That would tell the story. To go west, along the edge of theriver, wading in the water, would be useless precaution; such a trickwould be suspected at once, and there was no possibility of rescue fromthat direction. They might as well walk open-eyed into a trap. Therewas but one hope, one opportunity--to cross the stream before dawn cameand hide among those shifting sand-dunes of the opposite shore. Hamlinthoroughly understood the risk involved, the treacherous nature of theArkansas, the possibility that both might be sucked down by engulfingquicksand, yet even such a lonely death was preferable to Indiantorture. 

The girl at his feet stirred and moaned. In another moment he hadfilled his hat with water from the river, had lifted her head upon onearm, and using the handkerchief from about his throat, was washing awaythe blood that matted her hair. Now that his fingers felt the wound, he realized the force of the blow stunning her, although its outwardmanifestation was slight. Her figure trembled in his arms and her eyesopened, gazing up wonderingly at the black outlines of his shadow. Then she made an effort as though to draw away. 

"Lie still a while yet, Miss McDonald, " he said soothingly, "until youregain your strength. "

He heard the quick gasp of her breath, and felt the sudden relaxing ofher muscles. 

"You!" she exclaimed in undisguised relief at recognition of the voice;"is it really you? Where are we? What has happened?"

He told her rapidly, his face bent close, realizing that she wasclinging to him again as she had once before back in the stage. As heended, she lifted one hand to her wound. 

"And I am not really hurt--not seriously?" her voice bewildered. "I--Inever realized I had been struck. And--and you carried me all thatway--" she shuddered, looking about into the black silence. "I--I canhardly comprehend--yet. Please explain again; they are back therewatching for us still, believing we are in the coach; they will followour trail as soon as it becomes daylight. Why--why, the sky isbrighter over in the east already, is n't it? What was it you said wemust do?"

"Get across the river; once hidden in those sand-dunes over there we'll be safe enough. "

"Across the river, " she repeated the words dully, sitting up to stareout toward the water. Then her head sank into her hands. "Can we--canwe ever do that?"

Hamlin bent forward on his knees, striving with keen eyes, sharpened byhis night's experience, to learn more of what lay before them. Themovement, slight as it was, served to frighten her, and she grasped himby the sleeve. 

"Do not leave me; do not go away, " she implored swiftly. "Whatever yousay is best, I will do. "

CHAPTER IX

ACROSS THE RIVER

He dropped his hand upon hers, clasping the clinging fingers tightly. 

"Yes, we can make it, " he answered confidently. "Wait until I makesure what is out there. "

He had slight recollection of the stream at this point, although he hadcrossed it often enough at the known fords, both above and below. Yetthese crossings had always been accomplished with a horse under him, and a knowledge of where the trail ran. But he knew the stream, itspeculiarities and dangers. It was not the volume of water, nor itsdepth he feared, for wide as it appeared stretching from bank to bank, he realized its shallow sluggishness. The peril lay in quicksand, orthe plunging into some unseen hole, where the sudden swirl of watermight pull them under. Alone he would have risked it recklessly, butwith her added weight in his arms, he realized how a single false stepwould be fatal. The farther shore was invisible; he could perceivenothing but the slight gleam of water lapping the sand at his feet, asit flowed slowly, noiselessly past, and beyond, the dim outline of anarrow sand ridge. Even this, however, was encouragement, proving theshallowness of the stream. He turned about, his face so close he couldsee her eyes. 

"We shall have to try it, Miss McDonald; you must permit me to carryyou. "

"Yes. "

"And whatever happens do not scream--just cling tight to me. "

"Yes, " a little catching in her throat. "Tell me first, please, justwhat it is you fear. "

"Quicksand principally; it is in all these western rivers, and the twoof us together on one pair of feet will make it harder to pull out ofthe suck. If I tell you to get down, do so quickly. "

"Yes. "

"Then there may be holes out there in the bottom. I don't mind thoseso much, although these cavalry boots are no help in swimming. "

"I can swim. "

"Hardly in your clothes; but I am glad to know it, nevertheless. Youcould keep afloat at least, and the holes are never very large. Areyou ready now?"

She gave him her hands and stood up. The Sergeant drew in a longbreath and transferred the haversack to her shoulder. 

"We 'll try and keep that from getting soaked, if we can, " heexplained. "There is no hotel over in those sand-hills. Now hold ontight. "

He swung her easily to his broad shoulder, clasping her slender figureclosely with one arm. 

"That's it! Now get a firm grip. I 'll carry you all right. "

To the girl, that passage was never more than a dim memory. Stillpartially dazed from the severe blow on her head, she closed her eyesas Hamlin stepped cautiously down into the stream and clung to himdesperately, expecting each moment to be flung forward into the water. But the Sergeant's mind was upon his work, and every detail of thestruggle left its impress on his memory. He saw the dark sweep of thewater, barely visible in the gleam of those few stars unobscured bycloud, and felt the sluggish flow against his legs as he moved. Thebottom was soft, yet his feet did not sink deeply, although it wasrather difficult wading. However, the clay gave him more confidencethan sand underfoot, and there was less depth of water even than he hadanticipated. He was wet only to the thighs when he toiled up on to thelow spit of sand, and put the girl down a moment to catch a freshbreath and examine the broader stretch of water ahead. They could seeboth shores now, that which they had just left, a black, lumping, dimoutline. Except for the lapping of the water at their feet, all wasdeathly still. Even the Indian fire had died out, and it was hard toconceive that savages were hidden behind that black veil, and that theytwo were actually fleeing for their lives. To the girl it was likesome dreadful delirium of sleep, but the man felt the full struggle. There was a star well down in the south he chose to guide by, butbeyond that he must trust to good fortune. Without a word he liftedher again to his shoulder, and pushed on. 

The water ran deeper, shelving off rapidly, until it rose well abovehis waist, and with sufficient current do that he was compelled to leanagainst it to maintain balance, scarcely venturing forward a foot at atime. Once he stumbled over some obstruction, barely averting a fall;he felt the swift clutch of her fingers at his throat, the quickadjustment of her body, but her lips gave no utterance of alarm. Hisgroping feet touched the edge of a hole, and he turned, facing thecurrent, tracing his way carefully until he found a passage on solidbottom. A bit of driftwood swirled down out of the night; awater-soaked limb, striking against him before it was even seen, bruised one arm, and then dodged past like a wild thing, leaving aglitter of foam behind. The sand-dunes grew darker, more distinct, thewater began to grow shallow, the bottom changing from mud to sand. Heslipped and staggered in the uncertain footing, his breath coming inquicker gasps, yet with no cessation of effort. Once he felt thedreaded suck about his ankles, and broke into a reckless run, splashingstraight forward, falling at the water's edge, yet not before the girlwas resting safely on the soft sand. 

Strong as Hamlin was, his muscles trained by strenuous out-door life, he lay there for a moment utterly helpless, more exhausted from thenervous strain indeed, than the physical exertion. He had realizedfully the desperate nature of that passage, expecting every step to beengulfed, and the reaction, the knowledge that they had actuallyattained the shore safely, left him weak as a child, hardly able tocomprehend the fact. The girl was upon her feet first, alarmed andsolicitous, bending down to touch him with her hand. 

"Sergeant, you are not hurt?" she questioned. "Tell me you are nothurt?"

"Oh, no, " dragging himself up the bank, yet panting as he endeavored tospeak cheerfully. "Only that was a rather hard pull, the last of it, and I am short of breath. I shall be all right in a moment. "

There was a sand-dune just beyond, and he seated himself and leanedagainst it. 

"I am beginning to breathe easier already, " he explained. "Sit downhere, Miss McDonald. We are safe enough now in this darkness. "

"You are all wet, soaking wet. "

"That is nothing; the sand is warm yet from yesterday's sun, and myclothes will dry fast enough. It is beginning to grow light in theeast. "

The faces of both turned in that direction where appeared the firsttwilight approach of dawn. Already were visible the dark lines of theopposite shore, across the gleam of water, and beyond appeared the dimoutlines of the higher bluffs. The slope between river and hill, however, remained in impenetrable darkness. The minds of bothfugitives reverted to the same scene--the wrecked stage with its deadpassengers within, its savage watchers without. She lifted her head, and the soft light reflected on her face. 

"I--I thank God we are not over there now, " she said falteringly. 

"Yes, " he admitted. "They will be creeping in closer; they will notwait much longer. Hard as I have worked, I can't realize yet that weare out of those toils. "

"You did not expect to succeed?"

"No; frankly I did not; all I could do was hope--take the one chanceleft. The slightest accident meant betrayal. I am ashamed of being soweak just now, but it was the strain. You see, " he explainedcarefully, "I 've been scouting through hostile Indian country mostlyday and night for nearly a week, and then this thing happened. Nomatter how iron a man is his nerve goes back on him after a while. "

"I know. "

"It was n't myself, " he went on doggedly, "but it was the knowledge ofhaving to take care of you. That was what made me worry; that, andknowing a single misstep, the slightest noise, would bring those devilson us, where I could n't fight, where there was just one thing I coulddo. "

There was silence, her hands pressed to her face, her eyes fixed onhim. Then she questioned him soberly. 

"You mean, kill me?"

"Sure, " he answered simply, without looking around; "I would have hadto do it--just as though you were a sister of mine. "

Her hands reached out and clasped his, and he glanced aside at herface, seeing it clearly. 

"I--I thought you would, " she said, her voice trembling. "I--I wasgoing to ask you once before I was hurt, but--but I could n't, andsomehow I trusted you from the first, when you got in. " She hesitated, and then asked, "How did you know I was Molly McDonald? You neverasked. "

The Sergeant's eyes smiled, turning away from her face to stare outagain across the river. 

"Because I had seen your picture. "

"My picture? But you told us you were from Fort Union?"

"Yes; that is my station, only I had been sent to the cantonment on theCimarron with despatches. Your father was in command there, andworried half to death about you. He could not leave the post, and theonly officer remaining there with him was a disabled cavalry captain. Every man he could trust was out on scouting service. He took a chanceon me. Maybe he liked my looks, I don't know; more probably, he judgedI would n't be a sergeant and entrusted with those despatches I 'd justbrought in, if I was n't considered trustworthy. Anyhow I had barelyfallen asleep when the orderly called me, and that was what waswanted--that I ride north and head you off. "

"But you were not obliged to go?"

"No; I was not under your father's orders. I doubt if I would haveconsented if I had n't been shown your picture. I could n't very wellrefuse then. "

She sat with hands clasped together, her eyes shadowed by long lashes. 

"I should have thought there would have been some soldiers there--hisown men. "

"There were, " dryly, "but the army just now is recruited out of prettytough material. To be in the ranks is almost a confession ofgood-for-nothingness. You are an officer's daughter and understandthis to be true. "

"Yes, " she answered doubtfully. "I have been brought up thinking so;only, of course, there are exceptions. "

"No doubt, and I hope I am already counted one. "

"You know you are. My father trusted you, and so do I. "

"I have wondered some times, " he said musingly, watching her facebarely visible in the dawn, "whether those of your class actuallyconsidered us as being really human, as anything more valuable thanmere food for powder. I came into the regular army at the close of thewar from the volunteer service. I was accustomed to discipline and allthat, and knew my place. But I never suspected then that a privatesoldier was considered a dog. Yet that was the first lesson I wascompelled to learn. It has been pretty hard sometimes to hold in, forthere was a time when I had some social standing and could resent aninsult. "

She was looking straight at him, surprised at the bitterness in hisvoice. 

"They carry it altogether too far, " she said. "I have often thoughtthat--mostly the young officers, the West Pointers--and yet you knowthat the majority of enlisted men are--well, dragged from the slums. My father says it has been impossible to recruit a good class since thewar closed, that the right kind had all the army they wanted. "

"Which is true enough, but there are good men nevertheless, and everycommander knows it. A little considerate treatment would make thembetter still. "

She shook her head questioningly. 

"I do not know, " she admitted. "I suppose there are two viewpoints. You were in the volunteers, you said. Why did you enlist in theregulars?"

"Largely because I liked soldiering, or thought I did. I knew therewould be plenty of fighting out here, and, I believed, advancement. "

"You mean to a commission?"

"Yes. You see, I did not understand then the impossibility, the greatgulf fixed. I dreamed that good fortune might give me something to doworth while. "

"And fate has been unkind?"

"In a way, yes, " and he laughed rather grimly. "I had mychance--twice; honorable mention, and all that, but that ended it. There is no bridge across the chasm. An enlisted man is not held fitfor any higher position; if that was not sufficient to bar me, the factthat I had fought for the South would. "

"You were in the Confederate army? You must have been very young. "

"Oh, no; little more than a boy, of course, but so were the majority ofmy comrades. I was in my senior college year when the war broke out. But, Miss McDonald, this will never do! See how light it is growing. There, they have begun firing already. We must get back out of sightbehind the sand-dunes. "

CHAPTER X

THE RIPENING OF ACQUAINTANCE

They needed to retire but a few steps to be entirely concealed, yet sosituated as to command a view across the muddy stream. The sun had notrisen above the horizon, but the gray dawn gave misty revealment of thesluggish-flowing river, the brown slope opposite, and the darker shadowof bluffs beyond. The popping of those distant guns had ceased by thetime they attained their new position, and they could distinguish theIndians--mere black dots against the brown slope--advancing in asemicircle toward the silent stage. Evidently they were puzzled, fearful of some trickery, for occasionally a gun would crack viciously, the brown smoke plainly visible, the advancing savages halting toobserve the effect. Then a bright colored blanket was waved aloft asthough in signal, and the entire body, converging toward the desertedcoach, leaped forward with a wild yell, which echoed faintly across thewater. 

The girl hid her face in the sand, with a half-stifled sob, but theSergeant watched grimly, his eyes barely above the ridge. What wouldthey do when they discovered the dead bodies?--when they realized thatothers had eluded their vigilance during the night? Would they be ableto trace them, or would his ruse succeed? Of course their savagecunning would track them as far as the river--there was no way in whichhe could have successfully concealed the trail made down the gully, orthe marks left on the sandy bank. But would they imagine he had daredto cross the broad stream, burdened with the girl, confronting almostcertain death in the quicksand? Would they not believe rather that hehad waded along the water's edge headed west, hoping thus to escape tothe bluffs, where some hiding-place might be found? Even if theysuspected a crossing, would any warriors among them be reckless enoughto follow? Would they not be more apt to believe that both fugitiveshad been sucked down into the treacherous stream? Almost breathlessHamlin watched, these thoughts coursing through his mind, realizing thedeadly trap in which they were caught, if the Indians suspected thetruth and essayed the passage. Behind them was sand, ridge afterridge, as far as the eye could discern, and every step they took inflight would leave its plain trail. And now the test was at hand. 

He saw them crowd about the coach, leaping and yelling with fury;watched them jerk open the door, and drag forth the two dead bodies, dancing about them, like so many demons, brandishing their guns. Amoment they were bunched thus, their wild yelling shrill with triumph;then some among them broke away, bending low as they circled in againstthe bluff. They knew already that there had been others in the stage, others who had escaped. They were seeking the trail. Suddenly onestraightened up gesticulating, and the others rushed toward him--theyhad found the "sign"! They were silent now, those main trailers, twoof them on hands and knees. Only back where the bodies lay someremained yelling and dancing furiously. Then they also, in response toa shout and the wave of a blanketed arm, scattered, running west towardthe gully. There was no hesitancy now; some savage instinct seemed totell them where the fugitives had gone. They dragged the dead warriorfrom the ditch, screaming savagely at the discovery. A dozen scrambledfor the river bank, others ran for the pony herd, while one or tworemained beside the dead warrior. Even at that distance Hamlin coulddistinguish Roman Nose, and tell what were his orders by every gestureof his arm. The Sergeant grasped the girl's hand, his own eyes barelyabove the sand ridge, his lips whispering back. 

"No, don't move; I'll tell you everything. The stage has been guttedand set on fire. Now they are coming with the ponies. Most of themare directly opposite studying the marks we left on the sand of thebank. Yes, they look across here, but the chief is sure we have gonethe other way; he is waving his hand up the river now, and talking. Now he is getting on his horse; there are ten or twelve of them. Onefellow is pointing across here, but no one agrees with him. Now RomanNose is giving orders. Hear that yell! They 're off now, riding upstream, lashing their ponies into a run. All of them? No; quite abunch are going back to the coach. I don't believe they are going tohang around here long though, for they are driving in all their ponies. "

[Illustration: "No, don't move! The stage has been gutted and set onfire. "]

"But won't those others come back when they discover we have not goneup the river?"

"I wish I could answer that, " he replied earnestly. "But it alldepends on what those devils know of the whereabouts of troops. Theyare Northern Indians, and must have broken through the scouting detailssent out from Wallace and Dodge. Some of the boys are bound to beafter them, and there is more chance for them to get back safely alongthe mountains than in the other direction. I don't suppose an Indianin the bunch was ever south of the Arkansas. Wait! Those fellows aregoing to move now; going for good, too--they are taking the deadIndians with them. "

They were little more than black dots at that distance, yet the sun wasup by this time and his keen vision could distinguish every movement. 

"Creep up here, and you can see also, " he said quietly. "They are farenough away now so that it is safe. "

There was a moment of breathless quiet, the two fugitives peeringcautiously over the sand ridge. To the girl it was a confusion offigures rushing back and forth about the smoking ruins of the stage;occasionally a faint yell echoed across the river, and she coulddistinguish a savage on his pony gesticulating as he rode back andforth. But the Sergeant comprehended the scene. His eyes met hers andread her bewilderment. 

"They are going all right, and in a hurry. It's plain enough they areafraid to stay there any longer. See, they are lashing bodies on tothe ponies. Ah, that is what I wanted to be sure about--that fellow isheading west on the trail; now the others are moving. "

"Then you are sure Roman Nose will not return? That--that we are safe?"

"Yes; I would n't hesitate to go back as soon as the last of themdisappear over the ridge, " pointing up the river. "They knew they hadto go that way; Roman Nose and his band hoped we 'd taken thatdirection, and hurried on ahead to catch us if he could. They areafraid to stay about here any longer. Look how they are lashing thoseponies; there, the last of them are leaving. "

They lay there in the sand, already becoming warm, under the rays ofthe sun, trying to assure themselves that all danger of discovery hadvanished. There was no movement on the opposite shore, only the bluespiral of smoke curling up against the bluff, marking where the stagehad stood. About this, outlined upon the brown grass, appeared darkerpatches representing dead ponies and the bodies of Moylan and Gonzaleswhere they had been tumbled, scalped and otherwise mutilated. Down bythe river a wounded pony tried to follow the disappearing cavalcade, but fell, giving vent to one scream of agony. Then all was silent, motionless, the last straggler clubbing his horse pitilessly as hevanished over the ridge. 

Hamlin sat up, his eyes smiling. 

"We are the lucky ones, Miss McDonald, " he said, his mannerunconsciously more formal now that the danger had passed and a swiftrealization of who his companion was recurring to his mind. "Somethingmust have frightened them. " He shaded his eyes, staring at the bluffsopposite, "But there is nothing in sight from here. Well, the bestthing we can do is to eat breakfast. May I have the haversack, and seewhat it is stocked with?"

"Certainly not. There is so little I can do, I do not propose yieldingany prerogative. " And she drew her head through the strap, letting theleather bag fall to the sand. "I am afraid there is no cloth here. Would you dare light a fire?"

"Hardly, even if we had fuel, " he answered, watching her with interest. She glanced up into his face, her cheeks reddening. 

"Why don't you want me to do this?"

"How do you know I object? Indeed, it is quite pleasant to be waitedupon. Only, you see, it is very unusual for an officer's daughter totake such good care of an enlisted man. "

"But I am not thinking of that at all. You--this is different. "

"For the moment, perhaps, " just a slight bitterness in his tone, "and Ishould enjoy it while I can. "

She stopped in her work, sitting straight before him. Her eyes wereindignant, yet she stifled the first words that leaped to her lips. His soft hat lay on the sand and the sun revealed his tanned face, bringing out its strength. 

"You--should n't say that, " she faltered. "Surely you do not believe Iwill ever become ungrateful. "

"No; and yet gratitude is not altogether satisfactory. " He hesitated. "It is hard to explain just what I mean to you, for you do not realizethe life we lead out here--the loneliness of it. Even a man in theranks may possess the desires of a human being. I--well, I 'm hungryfor the companionship of a good woman. Don't misunderstand, MissMcDonald. I am not presuming, nor taking advantage of the accidentwhich has placed us in this peculiar position, but I have been atrooper out here now a long while, stationed at little isolatedfrontier posts, riding the great plains, doing the little routineduties of soldiering. I have n't spoken to a decent woman on terms ofsocial equality for two years; I 've looked at a few from a distanceand taken orders from them. But they have glanced through me as thoughI were something inanimate instead of a man. I saved an officer's lifeonce down there, " and he pointed into the southeast, "and his wifethanked me as though it were a disagreeable duty. I reckon you don'tunderstand, but I don't like the word gratitude. "

"But I do understand, " and she stretched out her hand to him across theopened haversack. "I 'm not so dull, and it must be awful to feelalone like that, I told you I--I liked you, and--I do. Now rememberthat, please, and be good. From now on I am not Major McDonald'sdaughter, not even Miss McDonald--I 'm just Molly McDonald. "

The gray eyes laughed. 

"You are assuming a great risk. "

"I don't believe it, " her forehead wrinkling a little, but her eyesbright. "You and I can be friends--can't we?"

"We 'll try, out here, at least. Even if the dream does n't last long, it will be pleasant to remember. "

"You do not think it will last, then?"

He shook his head. 

"I would be a fool to hope; I have been in the army too long. "

They were still for a minute, the girl's fingers toying with the flapof the haversack, her eyes gazing across the river. He thought theywere misty. 

"I am sorry you are so prejudiced, " she said at last slowly, "for I amnot like that at all. I am not going to be ashamed of a friend becausehe--he is in the ranks. I shall be only the more proud. What is yourfull name?"

He passed his hand over his hair, and laughed. 

"They call me 'Brick' Hamlin--a subtle reference to this crown ofglory. "

"But it is n't red, " she insisted swiftly. "Only it shows a littlebright with the sun on it, and I am not going to call you that. Idon't like nicknames. What did they call you before you went into thearmy? When--when you did know good women?"

The Sergeant bent his head, and then lifted his gray eyes to the girl'sface. 

"I had almost forgotten, " he confessed, "but I'll tell you--DavidCarter Hamlin; there, you have all of it--my mother called meDave--could you, once?"

"Could I?" laughingly. "Why, of course; now, Dave, we will havebreakfast. "

"And I am quite ready for it--Molly. "

The girl's cheeks reddened, but their eyes met, and both laughed. 

CHAPTER XI

A REMEMBRANCE OF THE PAST

Moylan must have had Miss McDonald in mind when he had stocked up withfood at Fort Dodge, and had therefore chosen all the delicacies to befound at that frontier post. These were not extensive, consistinglargely of canned goods, which, nevertheless, made a brave show, andwere clearly enough not the ordinary fare of the border. Hamlin had tosmile at the array, but Molly handled each article almost withreverence, tears dimming her eyes in memory. 

"He--he bought these for me, " she said softly, and looking acrossreproachfully at the Sergeant. "It was the best he could do. "

"I was not laughing at poor Moylan; only, I fear, he had a wrongconception of a girl's needs on the trail. But I reckon our combinedappetites are equal to it. "

"I do not feel as though I could swallow a mouthful. "

"Under orders you will try. We have a hard day before us, young lady, and some tramping to do afoot. I wish I knew where that horse I turnedloose last night has drifted to; into the bluffs, probably, where thegrass is green. He would be of some help just now. Try this, MissMcDonald, for lack of something better. I yearn for ham and coffee, but hardly dare build a fire yet. The smoke would be seen for milesaway. "

"If we were across the river we could use the stage fire. "

"Yes, but there is a wide river flowing between. Don't be afraid ofthat trip, " noting the expression of her face. "It will be easy enoughto cross back by daylight, now that I know where the danger spots are. "

"I was not so terribly afraid last night; I hardly had time to realizewhat was being done, did you?"

"Well, yes; it was risky business. Awfully treacherous bottom and Iwas trusting to good luck. "

The Sergeant ate heartily, speaking occasionally so as to divert hermind, but for the most part, busily thinking and endeavoring to decidehis next move. He sat facing the river, continually lifting his headto scan the opposite shore. There was probably a scouting detailsomewhere near at hand, either approaching from the east, alarmed bythe report of the fleeing stage crew, or else a detachment trackingRoman Nose's warriors across those plains extending into the north. The latter contingency was the more probable, judging from the Indians'flight, and his own knowledge of the small reserve force left at Dodge. Besides, ride as they might those two fleeing cowards of yesterdaycould hardly have yet reached that shelter of safety and might notconfess the truth of their desertion even when they did arrive. Apursuing force was the only real hope for escaping the necessity of ahard tramp back over the trail. Well, the girl looked fit, and heglanced toward her appreciatively. 

In spite of the sad experiences of the past night she was a pleasantspectacle, her eyes bright with excitement, her cheeks flushed underthe morning sun which flecked her dark, disordered hair with odd color. Hers was a winsome face, with smiling lips, and frank good nature inits contour. He was surprised to note how fresh and well she looked. 

"Are you tired?"

"Not very. It seems more as though I had dreamed all this thanactually passed through the experience. Perhaps when I do realize, thereaction will set in. But now I am strong, and--and not at allfrightened. "

"Nor hungry?"

"It is hard to eat, but I am often that way. " Her hand strayed to theemptied haversack, and she turned it carelessly over, where it laybeside her on the sand. "Why, this is an old Confederate sack, isn'tit? I hadn't noticed before; see, the 'C. S. A. ' is on the flap. "

"So it is; perhaps Moylan served in the South. "

"I think not. I am sure this was never his, for he bought it at Dodge. I remember he told me he would have to find something to carry ourlunch in. " She pushed the flap farther back, then held it up to thesunlight. "There are some other letters, but they are hardlydecipherable. I cannot read the first line at all, but the second issomewhat plainer--'Fourth Texas Infantry. '"

Hamlin reached out his hand swiftly, and grasped the haversack, forgetting everything else in suddenly aroused interest. The girl, surprised, stared up into his face, as he closely studied the fadedinscription, his face expressing unconcealed amazement. 

"Good God!" he ejaculated breathlessly. "It was Gene's. What can thismean?"

"You--you knew the soldier?"

"Knew him? Yes, " speaking almost unconsciously, his incredulous eyesstill on the inscription, as though fearful it might vanish. "That manwas either my best friend, or my worst enemy; under heaven, I know notwhich. Why, it is like a miracle, the finding of this bag out here inthe desert. It is the clue I have been searching after for nearly fiveyears. " He seemed to pull himself together with an effort, realizingher presence. "Excuse me, Miss McDonald, but this thing knocked mesilly. I hardly knew what I was saying. "

"It means much to you? To your life?"

"Everything, if I can only trace it back, and thus discover the presentwhereabouts of the original owner. "

"Was that your regiment, then--the Fourth Texas Infantry?"

He bowed his head, now looking frankly at her. 

"Would you mind telling me your rank?"

"I became Captain of 'B' Company after the fight at Chancellorsville;we served in Virginia under Massa Robert, and lost every commissionedofficer in that affair. " He hesitated to go on, but she prompted himby a question:

"And then what? What was it that happened? Don't be afraid to tellme. "

His gray eyes met hers, and then turned away, his lips pressed together. 

"Nothing until the day we fought at Fisher's Hill, " he said slowly. "Then I was dismissed from the service--for cowardice. "

"Cowardice!" repeating the word in quick protest. "Why, how could thatbe? Surely your courage had been sufficiently tested before?"

"Cowardice, and disobedience of orders, " he repeated dully, "after Ihad been under fire almost night and day for three years; after I hadrisen from the ranks and commanded the regiment. "

"And you had no defence?"

"No; at least, none I could use; this man might have saved me, but hedid not, and I never knew why. "

"Who was he?"

"My senior captain, detailed on Early's staff; he brought me the ordersverbally I was afterwards accused of disobeying. I was temporarily incommand of the regiment that day with rank as major. There was amistake somewhere, and we were horribly cut up, and a number takenprisoners. It was my word against his, and--and he lied. "

She took the haversack from him, studying the scarcely legibleinscription. 

"'E. L. F. ' Are those the letters?"

"Yes; they stand for Eugene Le Fevre; he was of French descent, hishome in New Orleans. "

"You knew him well?"

"I thought so; we were at school together and afterwards in the army. "

She looked across at him again, touched by the tender echo of hisvoice; then leaned forward and placed one hand upon his. 

"You have not spoken about this for a long while, have you?"

"No, " his eyes lighting up pleasantly, "hardly thought of it, exceptsometimes alone at night. The memory made me savage, and all myefforts to ascertain the truth have proven useless. "

"That is why you enlisted?"

"Largely; there is no better place to hide one's past than in the ranksout here on the plains. I--I could not remain at home with thatdisgrace hanging over me. "

"You must tell me all about it. "

Her head lifted suddenly as she gazed out across the river, shading hereyes. "Why, what are those?" she exclaimed eagerly, "there, moving onthe bluffs opposite?"

His glance swept to the northward, and he was as instantly the soldieragain. Far away on the upper plateau, clearly outlined against theblue of the distant sky, appeared a number of dark figures. For amoment he believed them buffaloes, but in another instant decidedinstead they were horsemen riding two by two. 

"Get down lower, Miss McDonald, " he commanded. "Now we can see, andnot be seen. They must be cavalrymen, the way they ride, but we cantake no chances. "

They watched the black specks pass east to where the bluff circled intoward the river. It was from there those distant riders firstobserved the dim spiral of smoke still curling up from the burningstage, for they halted, bunching together, and then disappeared slowlydown a gash in the side of the hill. Emerging on the lower flat theyturned in the direction of the fire, spurring their horses into a swifttrot. There was no longer any doubt of their being troopers, andHamlin stood upright on the sand hummock waving his hat. They weregathered about the fire, a few dismounted beside the dead bodies, before his signal was observed. Then a field glass flashed in thesunlight, and three or four of the party rode down to the bank of theriver. One of these, the glasses still held in his hand, his horse'shoofs in the water, shouted across the stream. 

"Who are you over there?"

"White people, " answered Hamlin, using his hands for a trumpet. "Weescaped from the stage last night. I am a sergeant, Seventh Cavalry, and the lady with me is the daughter of Major McDonald at Fort Devere. "

"How did you get across?"

"Waded in the dark; there is good bottom. Send a man over with acouple of horses. "

The officer turned and spoke to the others grouped beside him; thenraised his voice again. 

"Are you sure there is no quicksand?"

"None to hurt; come straight over the end of that sand spit, and thenswerve about a dozen feet to the right to keep out of a hole. Thewater won't go to a horse's belly. Try it, Wasson, you ought to knowme. "

"You 're 'Brick' Hamlin, ain't you?"

"A good guess, Sam; come on. "

Two troopers left their saddles, and the third man, the one answeringthe last hail, gathered the reins in one hand, and spurred his horseconfidently into the brown water. Following the Sergeant's shouteddirections, the three animals plunged forward and came dripping up thelow sand bank. The rider, a sallow-faced man clad in rough corduroy, patched and colorless, leaned over and held out his hand. 

"Dern yer o' skin, " he said solemnly, but with a twinkle in his eyes, "ye 're sure got the luck of it. Ain't seen ye afore fer two years. "

"That 's right, Sam; down on the Cowskin, wasn't it? Who 's overthere?"

"Leftenant Gaskins, an' some o' the Fourth Cavalry, scoutin' out o'Dodge; been plum to ther mountings, an' goin' home ag'in. Whut thehell (beggin' yer pardin, mam) has happened yere?"

"I 'll explain when we get across, " and Hamlin swung the haversack tohis shoulder, and turned to the girl. "This is Sam Wasson, MissMcDonald, a scout I have been out with before; let me help you into thesaddle. "

CHAPTER XII

THE PARTING

They recrossed the stream carefully, the horses restless and hard tocontrol in the current, the men riding on either side, grasping the bitof the girl's mount. Others had joined the little squad of troopers onthe bank, and welcomed them with a cheer. The Lieutenant dismounted. At sight of the girl's face he whipped off his hat, and came forward. 

"Miss McDonald, " he said, pleasantly greeting her, "I am LieutenantGaskins, and I have met your father--of the Sixth Infantry, is he not?So glad to be of service, you know. You were in the stage, Iunderstand; a most remarkable escape. "

"I owe it all to Sergeant Hamlin, " she replied, turning to glancetoward the latter. "He bore me away unconscious in his arms. Indeed, I scarcely realized what happened. Do you know anything regarding myfather?"

"Oh, yes, I can put your mind at ease so far as he is concerned. Ipresume you were endeavoring to reach his post when this unfortunateaffair occurred. "

"Yes. "

"Sheridan has ordered Devere abandoned for the present, and the Major'stroops are to return to Dodge. No doubt we shall be in the fieldwithin a week or two. But we can cultivate acquaintance later; now Imust straighten out this affair. " He bowed again, and turned stifflytoward Hamlin, who had dismounted, his manner instantly changing. Hewas a short, heavily built man, cleanly shaven, with dark, arroganteyes, and prominent chin. 

"You are a sergeant of the Seventh, you said, " he began brusquely. "What were you doing here?"

"My troop is stationed at Fort Union, " was the quiet response. "Icarried despatches to Devere, and while there was requested by MajorMcDonald to intercept his daughter and turn her back. "

"Were you subject to Major McDonald's orders?"

"It was not an order, but a request. "

"Oh, indeed; a mere pleasure excursion. "

"It has hardly turned out that way, sir, and conditions seemed tojustify my action. "

"That is for others to determine. When was the attack made?"

"Just before sundown last evening. The driver and guard escaped on thelead horses, and the wheelers ran away, wrecking the coach. "

"There were four passengers?"

"Yes; we fought them off until after dark, although the Mexican waskilled by the first fire. I don't know when the other man got his. "

"Who were they?"

"Gonzales ran a high-ball game at Santa Fé; the other, Moylan, waspost-sutler at Fort Marcy. "

"How many Indians? Who were they?"

"About thirty; we must have killed five or six. It was hardly morethan daylight when they left, and I could not tell just how many bodiesthey strapped on the ponies. They were a mixed bunch of young bucks, principally Arapahoes, led by Roman Nose. "

"Went west, hey?"

"Yes, sir. "

The Lieutenant turned his gaze up the river, and then looked at Wasson, who remained seated in the saddle. 

"Must be the same lot Maxwell told us about up on Pawnee Fork, Sam, " hesaid at last. "He will be likely to cut their trail some time to-day. We knew a bunch had headed south, but did n't suppose they had got asfar as this already. Better leave Maxwell to run them in, I suppose?Our orders are to return to Dodge. "

"They have n't three hours the start, " ventured Hamlin in surprise, "and cannot travel fast with so many of their ponies doubly loaded. "

"That is for me to decide, " staring insolently, "and I understand myduty without any advice. Is there any damage done west of here?"

"The station at the crossing is burned; two dead men there; I don'tknow what became of the third. "

"Then it is just as I thought; those fellows will turn north beforethey get that far, and will run straight into Maxwell. What do yousay, Sam?"

The scout lolled carelessly in the saddle, his eyes on the river, hislean, brown face expressionless. 

"I reckon as how it don't make no great difference what I say, " heanswered soberly. "Yer ain't taken no advice frum me yit, fur as Iremember. But if yer really want ter know, this time, my notion isthem bucks will most likely hide in the bluffs till night, an' thensneak past Maxwell after it gits good an' dark. If this yere wus myoutfit now, I 'd just naturally light on to the trail fast, orders erno orders. I reckon it's Injuns we cum out after, an' I don't supposethe War Department would find any fault if we found a few. "

The blood surged into the Lieutenant's face, but opposition only servedto increase his obstinacy. 

"I prefer to rely on my own judgment, " he said tartly. "From what thisman reports they are in stronger force than we are. Besides myinstructions were not to provoke hostilities. "

Wasson grinned, revealing his yellow teeth. 

"Sure not; they are so damned peaceable themselves. "

"I prefer leaving Captain Maxwell to deal with the situation, " Gaskinswent on pompously, ignoring the sneer, "as he outranks me, and I amunder strict instructions to return at once to the fort. Two of ourhorses are disabled already, and Smiley is too sick to be left alone. There are only sixteen men fit for duty, and three of those would haveto be detailed to look after him. I 'll not risk it. Well, " he brokeoff suddenly, and addressing a corporal who had just ridden up andsaluted, "have you buried the bodies?"

"Yes, sir; found these papers on them. "

The Lieutenant thrust these into his jacket pocket. 

"Very well, Hough. Form the men into column. Miss McDonald, you willretain the horse you have, and I should be very glad to have you ridewith me. Oh, Corporal, was everything in the coach destroyed? Nothingsaved belonging to this lady?"

"Only the ironwork is left, sir. "

"So I thought; exceedingly sorry, Miss McDonald. The ladies at Dodgewill have to fit you out when we get in. I am a bachelor, you know, "he added, glancing aside into her face, "but can promise everyattention. "

Her eyes sought Hamlin where he stood straight and motionless, respectfully waiting an opportunity to speak. 

"Is--is this what I ought to do?" she questioned, leaning toward him. "I am so confused I hardly know what is best. "

"Why, of course, " broke in the Lieutenant hastily. "You may trust meto advise. "

"But my question was addressed to Sergeant Hamlin, " she interposed, never glancing aside. "He understands the situation better than you. "

The Sergeant held his hat in his hand, his eyes meeting her ownfrankly, but with a new light in them. She had not forgotten now thedanger was over; she meant him to realize her friendship. 

"It seems to me the only safe course for you to take, Miss McDonald, "he said slowly, endeavoring to keep the note of triumph out of hisvoice. "Your father is perfectly safe, and will join you within a fewdays. I would not dare attempt your protection farther west. "

"You are not going with us then?" she questioned in surprise. 

"Not if Lieutenant Gaskins will furnish me with horse and rifle. Imust report at Union, and, on the way, tell your father where you are. "

"But the danger! oh, you mustn't attempt such a ride alone!"

"That is nothing; the valley is swept clean, and I shall do most of myriding at night. Any plainsman could do the trick--hey, Sam?"

Wasson nodded, chewing solemnly on the tobacco in his cheek. 

"He 'll make the trip all right, miss, " he drawled lazily. "Wish I wasgoin' long. I 'm sure tired o' this sorter scoutin', I am. Down belowthe Cimarron is the only place ye 'll have ter watch out close, 'Brick. ' Them Comanches an' Apaches are the worst lot. "

"I know--night riders themselves, but I know the trail. Can you outfitme, Lieutenant?"

Gaskins smiled grimly, but with no trace of humor. His eyes were uponthe girl, still leaning over her pommel. 

"I 'll outfit you all right, " he said brusquely, "and with no greatregret, either. And I shall report finding you here in disobedience toorders. "

"Very well, sir. "

Molly's brown eyes swept to the Lieutenant's face, her formstraightening in the saddle, her lips pressed tightly together. Gaskins fronted the Sergeant, stung into anger by the man's quietresponse. 

"I shall prefer charges, you understand, " almost savagely. "Helm, givethis fellow that extra rifle, and ammunition belt. McMasters, you willlet him have your horse. "

Wasson rolled out of his saddle, muttering something indistinctly, which might have been an oath. 

"I ain't goin' ter stand fer that, Leftenant, " he said defiantly. "Bein' as I ain't no enlisted man, an' this yere is my hoss, 'Brick'Hamlin don't start on no such ride on that lame brute o' McMasters'. Here, you 'Brick, ' take this critter. Oh, shut up! I'll git to Dodgeall right. Won't hurt me none to walk. "

The eyes of the two men met understandingly, and Hamlin took the reinin his hand. Gaskins started to speak, but thought better of it. Amoment he stood, irresolute, and then swung up into saddle, his glanceignoring the Sergeant. 

"Attention! company, " he commanded sharply. "By column four--march!"

The girl spurred her horse forward, and held out her hand. 

"Good-bye, " she said, falteringly, "you--will be careful. "

"Of course, " and he smiled up into her eyes. "Don't worry about me--Iam an old hand. "

"And I am to see you again?"

"I shall never run away, surely, and I hope for the best--"

"Miss McDonald, " broke in Gaskins impatiently, "the men are alreadymoving. "

"Yes, " her eyes still upon the Sergeant's uncovered face, "I am coming. Don't imagine I shall ever forget, " she murmured hastily, "or that Iwill not be glad to meet you anywhere. "

"Some time I may put you to the test, " he answered soberly. "If anytrouble comes, trust Wasson--he is a real man. "

He stood there, one arm thrown over the neck of the horse, watchingthem ride away up the trail. The Lieutenant and the girl were togetherat the rear of the short column, and he seemed to be talking earnestly. Hamlin never moved, or took his eyes from her until they disappearedover the ridge. Just as they dipped down out of sight she turned andwaved one hand. Then the man's gaze swept over the débris of theburned stage, and the two mounds of earth. Even these mute evidencesof tragedy scarcely sufficed to make him realize all that had occurredin this lonely spot. He could not seem to separate his thought fromthe cavalcade which had just departed, leaving behind the memory ofthat farewell wave of the hand. To him it marked the end of a dream, the return to a life distasteful and lonely. 

Mechanically the Sergeant loaded his rifle, and strapped the oldConfederate haversack to his saddle pommel, staring again, halfunbelieving, at the faded inscription underneath the flap. Yet thesight of those letters awoke him, bringing to his bronzed face a newlook of determination. He swung into the saddle, and, rifle across hisknees, his eyes studying the desolate distance, rode westward along thedeserted trail. 

CHAPTER XIII

BACK AT FORT DODGE

The swiftly speeding weeks of that war-summer on the plains had broughtmany changes to the hard-worked troops engaged in the campaign orgarrisoning the widely scattered posts south of the Platte. Scoutingdetails, although constantly in the saddle, failed to prevent continuedIndian depredations on exposed settlements. Stage routes weredeserted, and the toiling wagons of the freighters vanished from thetrails. Reports of outrages were continuous, and it became more andmore evident that the various tribes were at length united in adesperate effort to halt the white advance. War parties broke throughthe wide-strung lines of guard, and got safely away again, leavingbehind death and destruction. Only occasionally did these Indianraiders and the pursuing troops come into actual contact. The formercame and went in swift forays, now appearing on the Pawnee, again onthe Saline, followed by a wild ride down the valley of the Arkansas. Scattered in small bands, well mounted and armed, no one could guesswhere the next attack might occur. Every day brought its fresh reportof horror. From north and south, east and west, news of outrages cameinto Sheridan's headquarters at Fort Wallace. 

Denver, at the base of the mountains, was practically in state ofsiege, provisioned only by wagon trains sent through under strongguard; the fringe of settlement along the water ways was deserted, menand women fleeing to the nearest government posts for protection andfood. The troops, few in number and widely scattered in smalldetachments, many being utilized as scouts and guards, were unequal tothe gigantic task of protecting so wide a frontier. Skirmishes werefrequent, but the Indians were wary and resourceful, and only onceduring the entire summer were they brought into real decisive battle. The last of August, Major Forsythe, temporarily commanding a company ofvolunteer scouts, was suddenly attacked by over a thousand warriorsunder command of Roman Nose. A four days' fight resulted, with heavyloss on both sides, the Indians being finally driven from the field bythe opportune arrival of fresh troops. 

The general condition of affairs is well shown by the reports reachingFort Wallace in September. Governor Hunt wrote from Denver: "Justreturned. Fearful condition of things here. Nine persons murdered byIndians yesterday, within radius of nine miles. " A few days later, acting Governor Hall reported: "The Indians have again attacked oursettlements in strong force, obtaining possession of the country towithin twelve miles of Denver. They are more bold, fierce, anddesperate in their assaults than ever before. It is impossible todrive them out and protect the families at the same time, for they arebetter armed, mounted, disciplined, and better officered than our men. Each hour brings intelligence of fresh barbarities, and more extensiverobberies. " This same month Governor Crawford, of Kansas, telegraphed, "Have just received a despatch from Hays, stating that Indiansattacked, captured, and burned a train at Pawnee Fork; killed, scalped, and burned sixteen men; also attacked another train at CimarronCrossing, which was defended until ammunition was exhausted, when themen abandoned the train, saving what stock they could. Similar attacksare of almost daily occurrence. "

South of the Cimarron all was desolation, and war raged unchecked fromthe Platte to the Pecos. Sheridan determined upon a winter campaign, although he understood well the sufferings entailed upon the troops byexposure on the open plains at that season. Yet he knew the habits ofIndians; that they would expect immunity from attack and would gatherin villages, subject to surprise. He, therefore, decided that theresult would justify the necessary hardships involved. To this endsmaller posts were abandoned, and the widely scattered soldiers orderedto central points in preparation for the contemplated movement. Deverehad been deserted earlier, and Major McDonald had marched his men toDodge, where Molly awaited his coming. Retained there on garrisonduty, the two occupied a one-story, yellow stone structure fronting theparade ground. In October, orders to march reached "M" troop, SeventhCavalry, at Fort Union, and the ragged, bronzed troopers, who allsummer long had been scouting the New Mexican plains, turned theirhorses' heads to the northeast in hopefulness of action. With them upthe deserted Santa Fé trail, past burned stations and wrecks of wagontrains, rode Sergeant Hamlin, silent and efficient, the old Confederatehaversack fastened to his saddle, and his mind, in spite of all effort, recurring constantly to the girl who had gone to Dodge early in thesummer. Was she still there? If so, how would she greet him now afterthese months of absence? The little cavalry column, dust-covered andweary, seemed fairly to creep along, as day by day he reviewed everyword, every glance, which had passed between them; and at night, underthe stars, he lay with head on his saddle, endeavoring to determine hiscourse of action, both as to their possible meeting, and with regard tothe following of the clue offered by the haversack. The time he hadhoped for was at hand, but he could not decide the best course ofaction. He could only wait, and permit Fate to interfere. 

Certain facts were, however, sufficiently clear, and the Sergeant facedthem manfully. Not merely the fact that he was in the ranks, great asthat handicap was, could have prevented an attempt at retaining thefriendship of Molly McDonald. But he was in the ranks because ofdisgrace--hiding away from his own people, keeping aloof from hisproper station in life, out of bitter shame. If he had felt thusbefore, he now felt it a thousand times more acutely in memory of thecomradeship of her whose words had brought him a new gleam of hope. Never before had loneliness seemed so complete, and never before had herealized how wide was the chasm between the old and the new life. Thisconstantly recurrent memory embittered him, and made him restless. Yetout of it all, there grew a firmer determination to win back his oldposition in the world, to stamp out the lie through which thatConfederate court-martial had condemned him. If Le Fevre were alive, he meant now to find him, face him, and compel him to speak the truth. The discovery of that haversack gave a point from which to start, andhis mind centred there with a fixed purpose which obscured all else. 

It was after dark when "M" troop, wearied by their long day's marchacross the brown grass, rode slowly up the face of the bluff, and intothe parade ground at Fort Dodge. The lights of the guard-houserevealed the troopers' faces, while all about them gleamed the yellowlamps, as the garrison came forth to welcome their arrival. Guided bya corporal of the guard the men led their horses to the stables, and, as they passed the row of officers' houses Hamlin caught a furtiveglimpse in a radius of light that gave his pulses a sudden throb. Shewas here then--here! He had hardly dared hope for this. They wouldmeet again; that could scarcely be avoided in such narrow quarters. But how? On what terms? He ventured the one swift glimpse at her--aslender, white-robed figure, one among a group of both men and womenbefore an open door, through which the light streamed--heard her ask, "Who are they? What cavalry troop is that?" caught the response in aman's voice, "'M' of the Seventh, from Fort Union, " and then passed by, his eyes looking straight ahead, his hand gripping his horse's bit. 

Thirty minutes later in the great barn-like barracks, he hung hisaccoutrements over the bed assigned him in the far corner, and, revolver belt still buckled about his waist, stood at the open window, striving to determine which of those winking lights shone from thehouse where he had seen her. There had been something in the eagernessof her voice which he could not forget, nor escape from. She hadseemed to care, to feel an interest deeper than mere curiosity. TheSergeant's heart beat rapidly, even while he sternly told himself hewas a fool. A hand touched his shoulder, and he wheeled about to gripWasson's hand. 

"Well, 'Brick, ' old boy, " said the scout genially, although his thinface was as solemn as ever; "so you fellows have come back to be in theshindy?"

"We 've been in it all summer, Sam, " was the reply. "It's been livelyenough south of the Cimarron, the Lord knows. I 've been riding patrolfor months now. But what's up? No one seems to know why we wereordered in. "

"It's all guess-work here, " and Wasson sat down on the narrow bed andlit his pipe. "But the 'old man' is getting something under way, consolidating troops. Your regiment is going to be used, that'scertain. I 've been carryin' orders between here an' Wallace for threeweeks now, an' I 've heard Sheridan explode once or twice. He 's tiredof this guerilla business, an' wants to have one good fight. "

"It is getting late. "

"That's the way he figures it out, accordin' to my notion. We 'vealways let those fellows alone during the bad weather, an' they 've gotso they expect it. The 'old man' figures he 'll give 'em a surprise. "

"A winter campaign?"

"Why not? We can stand it if they can. O' course, I 'm just guessin';there 's no leak at headquarters. But Custer 's up there, " with a waveof the hand to the north, "and they 've got the maps out. "

"What maps?"

"I only got a glimpse of them out of the tail of my eye, but I reckonthey was of the kintry south of the Arkansas, along the Canadian. "

Hamlin sat down beside him, staring across the big room. 

"Then it's Black Kettle; his band is down on the Washita, " heannounced. "I hope it's true. "

"They 're arrangin' supply depots, anyhow; six companies of infantryare on Monument Creek, and five troops of cavalry on the North Canadiana'ready. Wagon trains have been haulin' supplies. There 's some stiffwork ahead when the snow flies, or I miss my guess. "

Hamlin sat silent, thinking, and the scout smoked quietly, occasionallyglancing toward his companion. Finally he spoke again, his voicebarely audible. 

"That little girl you sent in with us is here yet. "

The Sergeant was conscious that his cheeks flamed, but he never lookedup. 

"Yes, I saw her as we came in. "

"She 's asked me about you once or twice; don't seem to forget what youdid for her. "

"Sorry to hear that. "

"No, yer not; could n't no man be sorry to have a girl like that takean interest in him. 'T ain't in human nature. What did yer tell herabout me?"

"Tell her!" surprised. "Why, I only advised her to hang close to youif anything happened. I didn't exactly like the style of theLieutenant. "

"Thet's wat I thought. Well, she's done it, though thet has n't priedher loose from Gaskins. He 's hauntin' her like a shadow. It 'sgarrison talk they 're engaged, but I ain't so sure 'bout thet. Shean' I hev got to be pretty good friends, though, o' course, it'sstrictly on the quiet. I ain't got no invite to officers' row yit. She 's asked me a lot 'bout you. "

"Interesting topic. "

"Well, I reckon as how she thinks it is, enyhow. Yesterday she askedme 'bout thet scrimmage yer hed down on the Canadian. She 'd heerd'bout it somehow, an' wanted the story straight. So I told her all Iknowed, an' yer oughter seed her eyes shine while I wus sorter paintin'it up. "

"Oh, hell; let's drop it, " disgustedly. "The Lieutenant here yet?"

"Sure; his company is down on Monument, but he got special detail. He's got a pull, Gaskins has. "

"How is that?"

"His old man is Senator, or something, an' they say, has scads o'money. Enyway, the kid finds the army a soft snap. First scoutin'detail he ever had when you met him. Did n't hunt no danger then, sofur as I could see. Nice little dude, with a swelled head, but popularwith the ladies. I reckon McDonald ain't objectin' none to his chasin'after Miss Molly; thet's why he 's let her stay in this God-forsakenplace so long. Well, 'Brick, ' I reckon I 've told all the news, andhed better move 'long. "

"Hold on a minute, Sam, " and Hamlin, suddenly recalled to earth, reached for the haversack hanging on the iron bedpost. "Moylan, thefellow who was killed in the coach with us, had this bag. According toMiss McDonald, he bought it here just before starting on the trip. Seethis inscription; those are the initials of an old acquaintance of mineI 'd like to trace. Any idea where Moylan found it?"

Wasson held the bag to the light studying the letters. 

"Fourth Texas--hey? That your regiment?"

The Sergeant nodded, his lips tightly pressed together. 

"Must hev come from Dutch Charlie's outfit, " the scout went on slowly. "He picks up all that sorter truck. "

"Where is that?"

"In town thar, under the bluff. We 'll look it up to-morrow. "

CHAPTER XIV

UNDER ARREST

One by one the barrack lights went out as the tired troopers soughttheir beds. Hamlin extinguished his also, and only one remainedburning, left for emergency near the door, which flung a faint glowover the big room. But the Sergeant's reflections kept him awake, ashe sat on the foot of his bed, and stared out of the open window intothe darkness. There was little upon which to focus his eyes, a fewyellow gleams along officers' row, where callers still lingered, andthe glow of a fire in front of the distant guard-house, revealingoccasionally the black silhouette of a passing sentinel. Few noisesbroke the silence, except the strains of some distant musicalinstrument, and a voice far away saying good-night. Once he awoke fromrevery to listen to the call of the guards, as it echoed from post topost, ceasing with "All well, Number Nine, " far out beyond the stables. 

The familiar sound served to recall him to the reality of his position. What was the use? What business had he to dream? For months now hehad kept that girl's face before him, in memory of a few hours ofhappiness when he had looked into her dark eyes and heard her pleasantspeech. Yet from the first he had known the foolishness of it all. Hewas nothing to her, and could never become anything. Even if hecleared his past record and stepped out of the ranks into his oldsocial position, the chances were she would never overlook what he hadbeen. Her gratitude meant little, nor her passing interest in his armycareer. All that was the natural result of his having saved her life. He possessed no egotism which permitted him to think otherwise. Yearsof discipline had drilled into him a consciousness of the impassablegulf between the private and the officer's daughter. The latter mightbe courteous, kindly disposed, even grateful for services rendered, butit must end there. The Major would see that it did, would resentbitterly any presumption. No, there was nothing else possible. Ifthey met--as meet they must in that contracted post--it would be mostformal, a mere exchange of reminiscence, gratitude expressed by a smileand pleasant word. He could expect no more; might esteem himselffortunate, indeed, to receive even that recognition. Meanwhile hewould endeavor to strike Le Fevre's trail. There were other interestsin the world to consider besides Molly McDonald, and his memory driftedaway to a home he had not visited in years. But thought would notconcentrate there, and there arose before him, as he lay there, theface of Lieutenant Gaskins, wearing the same expression of insolentsuperiority as when they had parted out yonder on the Santa Fé trail. 

"The cowardly little fool, " he muttered bitterly under his breath, gripping the window frame. "It will require more than his money tobring her happiness, and I 'll never stand for that. Lord! She 's toosensible ever to love him. Good God--what's that!"

It leaped out of the black night---three flashes, followed instantly bythe sharp reports. Then a fourth--this time unmistakably amusket--barked from behind officers' row. In the flare, Hamlin thoughthe saw two black shadows running. A voice yelled excitedly, "Post Six!Post Six!" With a single leap the Sergeant was across the sill, anddropped silently to the ground. Still blinded by the light he ranforward, jerking his revolver from the belt. As he passed the cornerof the barracks the sentry fired again, the red flash cleaving thenight in an instant's ghastly vividness. It revealed a woman shrinkingagainst the yellow stone wall, lighted up her face, then plunged heragain into obscurity. 

The Sergeant caught the glimpse, half believing the vision a phantasyof the brain; he had seen her face, white, frightened, agonized, yet itcould not have been real. He tripped over the stone wall and halffell, but ran on, his mind in a turmoil, but certain some one wasracing before him down the dark ravine. There had been a woman there!He could not quite blot that out--but not she; not Molly McDonald. If--if it were she; if he had really seen her face in the flare, if itwas no dream, then what? Why, he must screen her from discovery, giveher opportunity to slip away. This was the one vague, dim thoughtwhich took possession of the man. It obscured all else; it sent himblindly crashing over the edge of the ravine. He heard the sentry athis right cry hoarsely, he heard excited shouts from the open windowsof the barracks; then his feet struck a man's body, and he went downheadlong. 

Almost at the instant the sentry was upon him, a gun-muzzle pressinghim back as he attempted to rise. 

"Be still, ye hell hound, " was the gruff order, "or I 'll blow yer tokingdom come! Sergeant of the guard, quick here! Post Number Six!"

Hamlin lay still, half stunned by the shock of his fall, yet consciousthat the delay, this mistake of the sentry, would afford her amplechance for escape. He could hear men running toward them, and his eyescaught the yellow, bobbing light of a lantern. His hand reached outand touched the body over which he had fallen, feeling a militarybutton, and the clasp of a belt--it was a soldier then who had beenshot. Could she have done it? Or did she know who did? Whatever thetruth might be, he would hold his tongue; let them suppose him guiltyfor the time being; he could establish innocence easily enough when itcame to trial. These thoughts flashed through his mind swiftly; thenthe light of the lantern gleamed in his eyes, and he saw the facesclustered about. 

"All right, Mapes, " commanded the man with the light. "Let the fellowup until I get a look at him. Who the hell are you?"

"Sergeant Hamlin, Seventh Cavalry. "

"Darned if it ain't. Say, what does all this mean, anyhow? Who'sshot? Turn the body over, somebody! By God! It's Lieutenant Gaskins!"

Hamlin's heart seemed to leap into his throat and choke him; for aninstant he felt faint, dazed, staring down into the still face ghastlyunder the rays of the lantern. Gaskins! Then she was concerned in theaffair; he really had seen her hiding there against the wall. And theman's eyes were open, were staring in bewilderment at the faces. TheSergeant of the guard thrust the lantern closer. 

"Lift his head, some o' yer, the man's alive. Copley, get some water, an' two of yer run fer the stretcher--leg it now. We 'll have yer outo' here in a minute, Lieutenant. What happened, sir? Who shot yer?"

Gaskins' dulled eyes strayed from the speaker's face, until he sawHamlin, still firmly gripped by the sentry. His lips drew backrevealing his teeth, his eyes narrowing. 

"That's the one, " he said faintly. "You 've got him!"

One hand went to his side in a spasm of pain, and he fainted. TheSergeant laid him back limp on the grass, and stood up. 

"Where is your gun, Hamlin?"

"I dropped it when I fell over the Lieutenant's body. It must be backof you. "

Some one picked the weapon up, and held it to the light, turning thechambers. 

"Two shots gone, Sergeant. "

"We heard three; likely the Lieutenant got in one of them. Sentry, what do you know about this?"

Mapes scratched his head, the fingers of his other hand gripping theprisoner's shoulder. 

"Not so awful much, " he replied haltingly, "now I come ter think 'boutit. 'T was a mighty dark night, an' I never saw, ner heard, nuthin'till the shootin' begun. I wus back o' officers' row, an' them pistolspopped up yere, by the corner o' the barracks. I jumped an' yelled;thought I heerd somebody runnin' an' let drive. Then just as I got upyere, this feller come tearin' 'long, an' I naturally grabbed him. That's the whole of it. "

"What have you got to say, Hamlin?"

"Nothing. "

"Well, yer better. Yer in a mighty bad box, let me tell yer, " angeredby the other's indifference. "What was the row about?"

The cavalryman stood straight, his face showing white in the glow ofthe lantern. 

"I told you before I had nothing to say. I will talk to-morrow, " hereturned quietly. "I submit to arrest. "

"I reckon yer will talk to-morrow, and be damn glad o' the chance. Corporal, take this fellow to the guard-house, an' stay there with him. Here comes the stretcher, an' the doctor. "

Hamlin marched off silently through the black night, surrounded by adetail of the guard. It had all occurred so suddenly that he wasbewildered yet, merely retaining sufficient consciousness of thecircumstances to keep still. If they were assured he was guilty, thenno effort would be made to trace any others connected with the affair. Why Gaskins should have identified him as the assassin was amystery--probably it was merely the delirium of a sorely wounded man, although the fellow may have disliked him sufficiently for that kind ofrevenge, or have mistaken him for another in the poor light. At anyrate the unexpected identification helped him to play his part, and, ifthe Lieutenant lived, he would later acknowledge his mistake. Therewas no occasion to worry; he could clear himself of the charge wheneverthe time came; half his company would know he was in barracks when thefiring began. There were women out on the walk, their skirtsfluttering as they waited anxiously to learn the news, but he could notdetermine if she was among them. Voices asked questions, but thecorporal hurried him along, without making any reply. Then he wasthrust roughly into a stone-lined cell, and left alone. Outside in thecorridor two guards were stationed. Hamlin sat down on the iron bed, dazed by the silence, endeavoring to collect his thoughts. The nearestguard, leaning on his gun, watched carefully. 

Voices reached him from outside, echoing in through the high, iron-barred window, but they were distant, the words indistinguishable. As his brain cleared he gave no further thought to his own predicament, only considering how he could best divert suspicion from her. It wasall a confused maze, into the mystery of which he was unable topenetrate. That it was Molly McDonald shrinking there in the darkcorner of the barracks wall he had no doubt. She might not haverecognized him, or imagined that he saw her, but that spear of lighthad certainly revealed a face not to be mistaken. White as it was, haggard with terror, half concealed by straggling hair, theidentification was nevertheless complete. The very piteousness ofexpression appealed to him. She was not a girl easily frightened; nomere promiscuous shooting, however startling, would have brought thatlook to her face. He had seen her in danger before, had tested hercoolness under fire. This meant something altogether different. What?Could it be that Gaskins had wronged the girl, had insulted her, andthat she, in response, had shot him down? In the darkness ofconjecture there seemed no other adequate explanation. The two wereintimate; the rumor of an engagement was already circulating about thegarrison. And the stricken man had endeavored to shift the blame onhim. Hamlin could not believe this was done through any desire toinjure; the Lieutenant had no cause for personal dislike which wouldaccount for such an accusation. They had only met once, and thenbriefly. There was no rivalry between them, no animosity. To be sure, Gaskins had been domineering, threatening to report a small breach ofdiscipline, but in this his words and actions had been no moreoffensive than was common among young officers of his quality. TheSergeant had passed all memory of that long ago. It never occurred tohim now as of the slightest importance. Far more probable did itappear that Gaskins' only motive was to shield the girl from possiblesuspicion. When he had realized that Hamlin was a prisoner, that forsome reason he had been seized for the crime, he had grasped theopportunity to point him out as the assassin, and thus delay pursuit. The chances were the wounded man did not even recognize who the victimwas--he had blindly grasped at the first straw. 

But suppose he had been mistaken? Suppose that woman hiding there wassome one else? Suppose he had imagined a resemblance in that suddenflash of revealment? What then? Would she care enough to come to himwhen she learned of the arrest? He laughed at the thought, yet it wasa bitter laugh, for it brought back a new realization of the chasmbetween them. Major McDonald's daughter interesting herself in aguard-house prisoner! More than likely she would promptly forget thatshe had ever before heard his name. He must be growing crazy topresume that she permitted him to remain on her list of friendship. 

He got up and paced the cell, noting as he did so how closely he waswatched by the guard. 

"Have you heard how badly the Lieutenant was hurt?" he asked, approaching the door. 

The sentry glanced down the corridor. 

"He 'll pull out, all right, " he replied confidentially, his lips closeto the door. "Nothin' vital punctured. You better go to bed, an'forget it till mornin'. "

"All right, pardner, " and Hamlin returned to the cot. "Turn the lightdown a little, will you? There, that's better. My conscience won'ttrouble me, but that glare did. "

With his face to the stone wall he fell asleep. 

CHAPTER XV

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

It was late in the forenoon when the heavily armed guard marched Hamlinacross to the commandant's office. He had been surprised at the delay, but had enjoyed ample opportunity to plan a course of action, anddecide how best to meet the questions which would be asked. He couldclear himself without involving her, without even a mention of herpresence, and this knowledge left him confident and at ease. 

There were half a dozen officers gathered in the small room, thegray-bearded Colonel in command, sitting behind a table, with MajorMcDonald at his right, and the others wherever they could find standingroom. Hamlin saluted, and stood at attention, his gray eyes on theface of the man who surveyed him across the table. 

"Sergeant, " the Colonel said rather brusquely, "you came in last nightwith 'M' troop, did you not?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Had you ever met Lieutenant Gaskins before?"

"Once; he pulled me out of a bad scrape with a bunch of Indians out onthe trail a few months ago. "

"The same affair I spoke to you about, " commented McDonald quietly. "The attack on the stage. "

The Colonel nodded, without removing his eyes from the Sergeant's face. 

"Yes, I know about that, " he said. "And that was the only occasion ofyour meeting?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Well, Sergeant Hamlin, I purpose being perfectly frank with you. There are two or three matters not easily explained about this affair. I am satisfied of your innocence; that you were not directly concernedin the shooting of Lieutenant Gaskins. Men of your troop state thatyou were in barracks when the shots were fired, and the wound was notmade by a service revolver, but by a much smaller weapon. Yet thereare circumstances which puzzle us, but which, no doubt, you canexplain. Two shots had been fired from your revolver, " and he pushedthe weapon across the table. 

"I rode ahead of the troop in march yesterday, " Hamlin explained, "andfired twice at a jack-rabbit. I must have neglected to replace thecartridges. Private Stone was with me. "

"Why did you submit to arrest so easily, without any attempt to clearyourself?"

The Sergeant's gray eyes smiled, but his response was quietlyrespectful. 

"I was condemned before I really knew what had occurred, sir. Thesentry, the Sergeant of the guard, and the Lieutenant all insisted thatI was guilty. They permitted me no opportunity to explain. I thoughtit just as well to remain quiet, and let the affair straighten itselfout. "

"Yet your action threw us completely off the trail, " broke in McDonaldimpatiently. "It permitted the really guilty parties to escape. Didyou see any one?"

"Black smudges merely, Major, apparently running toward the ravine. Myeyes were blinded, leaping from a lighted room. "

McDonald leaned forward eagerly, one hand tapping the table. 

"Was one of them a woman?" he questioned sharply. 

Hamlin's heart leaped into his throat, but he held himself motionless. 

"They were indistinguishable, sir; mere shadows. Have you reason tosuspect there may have been a woman involved?"

The Major leaned back in his chair, but the commandant, after a glanceat his officer, answered:

"The pistol used was a small one, such as a woman might carry, andthere are marks of a woman's shoe plainly visible at the edge of theravine. Lieutenant Gaskins was alone when he left the officers' clubfive minutes before the firing began. You are sure you have never hadany controversy with this officer?"

"Perfectly sure, sir. We have never met except on the one occasionalready referred to, and then scarcely a dozen words were exchanged. "

"How then, Sergeant, " and the Colonel spoke very soberly, "do youaccount for his denouncing you as his assassin?"

"I presumed he was influenced by my arrest, sir; that the shock hadaffected his brain. "

"That supposition will hardly answer. The Lieutenant is not severelywounded, and this morning appears to be perfectly rational. Yet heinsists you committed the assault; even refers to you by name. "

The accused man pressed one hand to his forehead in bewilderment. 

"He still insists I shot him?"

"Yes; to be frank, he 's rather bitter about it, and no facts we havebrought to bear have any apparent weight. He swears he recognized yourface in the flare of the first discharge. "

The Sergeant stood silent, motionless, his gaze on the Colonel's face. 

"I do not know what to say, sir, " he answered finally. "I was notthere, and you all know it from the men of my troop. There has been notrouble between Lieutenant Gaskins and myself, and I can conceive of noreason why he should desire to involve me in this affair--unless, " hepaused doubtfully; "unless, sir, he really knows who shot him, and isanxious to shift the blame elsewhere to divert suspicion. "

"You mean he may be seeking to shield the real culprit?"

"That is the only explanation that occurs to me, sir. "

The Colonel stroked his beard nervously, his glance wandering to thefaces of the other officers. 

"That might be possible, " he acknowledged regretfully, "although Ishould dislike to believe any officer of my command would bedeliberately guilty of so despicable an act. However, all we can donow is endeavor to uncover the truth. You are discharged from arrest, Sergeant Hamlin, and will return to your troop. "

Hamlin passed out the door into the sunshine, dimly conscious that hisguarded answers had not been entirely satisfactory to those leftbehind. Yet he had said all he could say, all he dared say. More andmore firmly there had been implanted in his mind a belief that MollyMcDonald was somehow involved in this unfortunate affair, and that hername must be protected at all hazard. This theory alone would seem toaccount for Gaskins' efforts to turn suspicion, and when this wasconnected with the already known presence of a woman on the scene, andthe smallness of the weapon used, the evidence seemed conclusive. 

As far as his own duty was concerned, the Sergeant felt no doubt. Whatever might be the cause, there was no question in his mind but thatshe was fully justified in her action. Disliking the Lieutenant fromthe first, and as strongly attracted by the girl, his sympathies werenow entirely with her. If she had shot him, then it was for someinsult, some outrage, and he was ready to protect her with his life. He stopped, glancing back at the closed door, tempted to return and askpermission to interview Gaskins personally. Then the uselessness ofsuch procedure recurred to him; the fact that nothing could result fromtheir meeting but disappointment and recrimination. The man evidentlydisliked him, and would resent any interference; he had something toconceal, something at stake for which he would battle strenuously. Itwould be better to let him alone at present, and try to uncover a clueelsewhere. Later, with more facts in his possession, he could face theLieutenant and compel his acknowledgment. These considerations causedhim to turn sharply and walk straight toward the ravine. Yet hisinvestigations there brought few results. On the upper bank were themarks of a woman's shoe, a slender footprint clearly defined, but thelower portion of the ravine was rocky, and the trail soon lost. Hepassed down beyond the stables, realizing how easily the fugitives, under cover of darkness, could have escaped. The stable guard couldhave seen nothing from his station, and just below was the hard-packedroad leading to the river and the straggling town. There was nothingto trace, and Hamlin climbed back up the bluff completely baffled butdesperately resolved to unlock the mystery. The harder the solutionappeared, the more determined he became to solve it. As he came out, opposite the barrack entrance, a carriage drove in past theguard-house, the guard presenting arms, and circled the parade in thedirection of officers' row. It contained a soldier driver and twoladies, and the Sergeant's face blushed under its tan as he recognizedMiss McDonald. Would she notice him--speak to him? The man could notforbear lifting his eyes to her face as the carriage swept by. He sawher glance toward him, smile, with a little gesture of recognition, andstood there bareheaded, his heart throbbing wildly. With that look, that smile, he instantly realized two facts of importance--she waswilling to meet him on terms of friendship, and she had not recognizedhim the evening previous as he ran past her in the dark. 

Hamlin, his thoughts entirely centred upon Miss McDonald, had scarcelynoted her companion, yet as he lingered while the carriage drew upbefore the Major's quarters, he seemed to remember vaguely that she wasa strikingly beautiful blonde, with face shadowed by a broad hat. Although larger, and with light fluffy hair and blue eyes, the lady'sfeatures were strangely like those of her slightly younger companion. The memory of these grew clearer before the Sergeant--the whiteness ofthe face, the sudden lowering of the head; then he knew her; across thechasm of years her identity smote him as a blow; his breath camequickly and his fingers clenched. 

"My God!" he muttered, unconsciously. "That was Vera! She haschanged, wonderfully changed, but--but she knew me. What, in Heaven'sname, can she be doing here, and--with Molly?"

With straining eyes he stared after them until they both disappearedtogether within the house. Miss McDonald glanced back toward him oncealmost shyly, but the other never turned her head. The carriage droveaway toward the stables. Feeling as though he had looked upon a ghost, Hamlin turned to enter the barracks. An infantry soldier leanednegligently in the doorway smoking. 

"You 're the sergeant who saved that girl down the trail, ain't yer?"he asked indolently. "Thought so; I was one o' Gaskins' men. "

Hamlin accepted the hand thrust forth, but with mind elsewhere. 

"Do you happen to know who that was with Miss McDonald?" he asked. 

"Did n't see 'em, only their backs as they went in--nice lookin'blonde?"

"Yes, rather tall, with very light hair. "

"Oh, that's Mrs. Dupont. "

"Mrs. Dupont?" the name evidently a surprise; "wife of one of theofficers?"

"No, she 's no army dame. Husband's a cattleman. Got a range on theCowskin, south o' here, but I reckon the missus don't like that sorterthing much. Lives in St. Louis mostly, but has been stoppin' with theMcDonalds fer a month er two now. Heerd she wus a niece o' theMajor's, an' reckon she must be, er thar 'd been a flare up long ago. She 's a high flyer, she is, an' she 's got the Leftenant goin' allright. "

"Gaskins?"

"Sure; he's a lady-killer, but thet 's 'bout all the kind o' killer heis, fer as I ever noticed--one o' yer he-flirts. Thar ain't hardly anofficer in this garrison thet ain't just achin' fer ter kick thatsquirt, but ther women--oh, Lord; they think he's a little tin god onwheels. Beats hell, don't it, what money will do fer a damn fool. "

Hamlin stood a moment silent, half inclined to ask another question, but crushing back the inclination. Then he walked down the hall to thequarters assigned "M" Troop, and across to his own bed in the farcorner. There were only a few of the men present, most of whom werebusily engaged at a game of cards, and he sat down where he could gazeout the window and think. Here was a new complication, a fresh puzzleto be unravelled. He had never expected this woman to come into hislife again; she had become a blurred, unpleasant memory, a bit of hispast which he had supposed was blotted out forever. Mrs. Dupont--thenshe had not married Le Fevre after all. He dully wondered why, yet wasnot altogether surprised. Even as he turned this fact over and over inhis mind, speculating upon it, he became aware of a man leaving therear door of McDonald's quarters, and advancing back of officers' rowtoward the barracks. As the fellow drew near, Hamlin recognized thesoldier who had been driving the carriage. A moment later the manentered the room, spoke to the group of card players, and then camestraight across toward him. 

"Sergeant Hamlin?"

"Yes. "

"I was asked to hand you this note; there is no answer. "

Hamlin held it unopened until the fellow disappeared, hesitatingbetween hope and dread. Which of the two women had ventured to writehim? What could be the unexpected message? At last his eyes scannedthe three short lines:

"You recognized me, and we must understand each other. At ten to-nightask the Clerk of the Occidental--V. "

CHAPTER XVI

THE MEETING

Hamlin's first impulse was to ignore the note, trusting his position inthe ranks would be sufficient barrier to prevent any chance meeting, and believing his stay at that garrison would be only a brief one. Sheridan was evidently preparing for an early offensive campaign, andit was rumored on all sides that the Seventh Cavalry had been selectedfor active field service. Indeed, the urgent orders for theconsolidation of the regiment from scattered posts must mean this. Anyday might bring orders, and he could easily avoid this Mrs. Dupontuntil then. Except for a faint curiosity, the Sergeant felt noinclination to meet the woman. Whatever influence she might have onceexercised over him had been thoroughly overcome by years and absence. Even the unexpected sight of her again--seemingly as beautiful asever--had failed to awaken the spell of the past. It was almost with athrill of delight that Hamlin realized this--that he was in truthutterly free of her influence. There had been times when he hadanticipated such a possible meeting with dread; when he had doubted hisown heart, the strength of his will to resist. But now he knew hestood absolutely independent and could laugh at her wiles. She who hadonce been all--trusted, loved, worshipped with all the mad fervor ofyouth--had become only a dead memory. Between them stretched a chasmnever to be bridged. 

What could the woman possibly want of him? To explain the past? Tojustify herself? He knew enough already, and desired to know no more. Could she hope--natural coquette that she was--to regain her hold uponhim? The man smiled grimly, confident of his own strength. Yet whyshould she care for such a conquest, the winning of a common soldier?There must be some better reason, some more subtle purpose. Could itbe that she feared him, that she was afraid that he might speak to herinjury? This was by far the most likely supposition. MollyMcDonald--the woman was aware of their acquaintance, and was alreadyalarmed at its possible result. 

Hamlin stood up resolved. He would meet the woman, not from any desireof his own, but to learn her purpose, and protect the girl. Themeeting could not injure him, not even bring a swifter beating of theheart, but might give him opportunity to serve the other. And LeFevre--surely she could tell him something of Le Fevre. 

Leave was easily obtained, and the Sergeant, rejoicing in a freshlyissued uniform, dressed with all the care possible, his interestreviving at this new point of view. It was not far down the bluff roadto the squalid little village which had naturally developed in closeproximity to the fort--near enough for protection, yet far enoughremoved to be lawless--a rough frontier outpost town, of shacks andtents, most of these dispensing vile liquors. Among these, moreenterprising spirits--hopeful of future development--had erected largerbuildings, usually barn-like, with false fronts facing the single mainstreet, filled with miscellaneous stocks of goods or used for purposesnot so legitimate. One of these housed the "Poodle Dog" saloon, withgambling rooms above, while a few doors below was a great dance hall, easily converted into a theatre if occasion arose, --a grotesque, one-storied monstrosity. Below these was the stage office, builtagainst the three-storied wooden hotel, which boasted of a wide porchon two sides, and was a picture of ugliness. 

By daylight all was squalor and dirt, dingy tents flapping in theceaseless wind, unpainted shacks, wooden houses with boards warpingunder the hot sun, the single street deep in yellow dust, thesurrounding prairie littered with tin cans, and all manner of débris. But with the coming of night much of this roughness departed. Soldiersfrom the garrison on pass, idle plainsmen, bull-whackers, adventurersof all kinds stranded here because of Indian activity, stray cowboysfrom the nearby valleys, thronged the numerous dives, seekingexcitement. Women, gaudy of dress, shrill of voice, flitted from doorto door through the jostling crowds. Lamps blazed over the motleyassembly, loud-voiced barkers yelled, and a band added its discords tothe din. The "Poodle Dog" glared in light, resounded with noise; lampsgleamed from the hotel windows, and the huge dance hall stood wideopen. Out from the shacks and tents crept the day's sleepers for anight of revelry; along the trails rode others eager for excitement; itwas the harvest-time of those birds of prey in saloon and gambling hell. 

Hamlin saw all this, but gave the surroundings little thought. He wasof the West, of the frontier, and beheld nothing unique in the scene. Moreover, the purpose for which he was there overshadowed all else, left him indifferent to the noise, the jostling, drunken crowd. Somehe met who knew him and called his name, but he passed them with aword, and pressed his way forward. At the hotel he mounted the stepsand entered. The office was in one corner of the bar-room. Theproprietor himself, a bald-headed Irishman, sat with feet cocked up onthe counter, smoking, and barely glancing up as the Sergeant asked forMrs. Dupont. 

"Who are yer?" he asked. 

"My name is Hamlin; I am here on the lady's invitation. "

"Sure; thet 's ther name all right, me bhoy. Yer ter go out on theeast porch there, an' wait a bit whoile I sind her worrd yer here. Oi'm imaginin' she hed sum doubts about yer comin', the way she spoke. "

"How do I get there?"

"Through the winder of the parlur over thar--sure, it 's a noice quietspot fer a tate-a-tate. " He got up, and peered through his glassesacross the room. "Here, Moike; damn thet slapy head. Will one o' yergents wake the lad--that's it. Now come here, Moike. You run over tothe Palace an' tell Mrs. Dupont the fellar is here waitin'. Hold onnow, not so fast; wait till Oi 'm done tellin' yer. Say thet to heralone--do yer moind thet, ye sap-head; nobody else is to hear whut yersay; stay there till yer git a chance ter whisper it to her. Now skip. "

Hamlin hesitated, watching the boy disappear. 

"At the Palace--the dance hall across the street?" he askedincredulously. 

"Sure, " indifferently, relighting his pipe. "Officers' ball; couldn'tbreak in with a can-opener unless you had a invite. Guards at bothends, sergeant taking tickets, an' Third Regiment Band makin' music. Hell of a swell affair; got guests here from Leavenworth, Wallace, andall around. Every room I got is full an' runnin' over--say, there arefellars over thar in them fool swaller-tail coats; damned if thereain't. If the b'ys ever git sight of 'em on the street there 'll be ahot time. Say, ain' that the limit? Injuns out thar thick as fleas ona dog, an' them swells dancin' here in swaller-tails like this yere wasBoston. "

He was still talking when Hamlin crossed the narrow hall and enteredthe dimly-lighted, unoccupied parlor. The side window was open, aslight breeze rustled the heavy curtain, and the Sergeant steppedoutside on to the dark porch. There was a bench close to the rail andhe sat down to wait. A gleam of light from the Palace fell across thewestern end, but the remainder of the porch lay in shadow, although hecould look up the street, and see the people jostling back and forth infront of the Poodle Dog. The sound of mingled voices was continuous, occasionally punctuated by laughter, or an unrestrained outburst ofprofanity. Once shots echoed from out the din, but created no apparentexcitement, and a little later a dozen horsemen spurred recklesslythrough the street, scattering the crowd, their revolvers sputtering. Some altercation arose opposite and a voice called loudly for theguard, but the trouble soon ceased with the clump of hoofs, dying awayin the distance, the regimental band noisily blaring out a waltz. Hamlin, immersed in his own thoughts, scarcely observed the turmoil, but leaned, arms on railing, gazing out into the darkness. Somethingmysterious from out the past had gripped him; he was wondering how heshould greet her when she came; speculating on her purpose in sendingfor him. 

It seemed as though he waited a long time before the curtain at thewindow was thrust aside and the lady emerged, the slight rustling ofher dress apprising him of her presence. The curtain still heldslightly back by her hand permitted the light from within to reflectover her figure, revealing in softened outline the beauty of herfeatures, the flossy brightness of her hair. She was in evening dress, a light shawl draping her shoulders. An instant she paused inuncertainty, striving to distinguish his face; then stepped impulsivelyforward, and held out her hands. 

"I have kept you waiting, but you must forgive that, as I came as soonas I could manufacture an excuse. Won't you even shake hands with me?"

"Is it necessary?" he asked, almost wearily. "You have come to me forsome purpose surely, but it can hardly be friendship. "

"Why should you say that?" reproachfully. "I have deserted a ratherbrilliant party to meet you here. "

"That, perhaps, is why I say it, Mrs. Dupont. If my memory serves, youwould not be inclined to leave such friends as you have yonder torendezvous with a common soldier, unless you had some special object inview. If you will inform me what it is, we can very quickly terminatethe interview. "

She laughed, a little touch of nervousness in the voice, but drew herskirts aside, and sat down on the bench. 

"Do you think you can deceive me by such play-acting?" she askedeagerly. "You are no man of wood. Tell me, is there nothing you careto ask me, after--after all these years?"

Hamlin lifted his eyes and looked at her, stirred into sudden interestby the almost caressing sound of the soft voice. 

"Yes, " he said slowly, "there are some things I should like to know, ifI thought you would answer frankly. "

"Try me and see. "

"Then why are you Mrs. Dupont, instead of Mrs. Le Fevre?"

"Then my guess is true, and you are not so devoid of curiosity, " shelaughed. "My answer? Why, it is simplicity itself--because I wasnever Mrs. Le Fevre, but am rightfully Mrs. Dupont. "

"Do you mean you were never married to Le Fevre?"

"What else could I mean?"

"Then he lied. "

She shrugged her white shoulders. 

"That would not surprise me in the least. 'T was a characteristic ofthe man you had ample reason to know. How came you to believe soeasily?"

"Believe? What else could I believe? Everything served tosubstantiate his boast. I was in disgrace, practically drummed out ofcamp. There was nothing left for me to live for, or strive after. Iwas practically dead. Then your letter confessing came--"

"Wait, " she interrupted, "that letter was untrue, false; it was pennedunder compulsion. I wrote you again, later, but you had gone, disappeared utterly. I wanted to explain, but your own people even didnot know where you were--do not know yet. "

He leaned his body against the rail, and looked at her in the dimlight. Her face retained much of its girlish attractiveness, yet itsundoubted charms no longer held the man captive. He smiled coldly. 

"The explanation comes somewhat late, " he replied deliberately. "Whenit might have served me it was not offered--indeed, you hadconveniently disappeared. But I am not here to criticise; that is allover with, practically forgotten. I came at your request, and presumeyou had a reason. May I again ask what it was?"

CHAPTER XVII

AT CROSS-PURPOSES

She sat for a moment silent, gazing up the street, but breathingheavily. This was not the reception she had anticipated, and it wasdifficult to determine swiftly what course she had best pursue. Realizing the hold she had once had upon this man, it had neveroccurred to her mind that her influence had altogether departed. Herbeauty had never failed before to win such victory, and she had trustednow in reviving the old smouldering passion into sudden flame. Yetalready she comprehended the utter uselessness of such anexpectation--there was no smouldering passion to be fanned; hisindifference was not assumed. The discovery angered her, but longexperience had brought control; it required only a moment to readjusther faculties, to keep the bitterness out of her voice. When she againfaced him it was to speak quietly, with convincing earnestness. 

"Yes, I realize it is too late for explanations, " she acknowledged, "soI will attempt none. I wished you to know, however, that I did notdesert you for that man. This was my principal purpose in sending foryou. "

"Do you know where he is?"

She hesitated ever so slightly, yet he, watching her closely, noted it. 

"No; at the close of the war he came home, commanding the regimentwhich should have been yours. Within three months he had converted allthe family property into cash and departed. There was a rumor that hewas engaged in the cattle business. "

"You actually expect me to believe all this--that you knew nothing ofhis plans--were not, indeed, a part of them?"

"I am indifferent as to what you believe, " she replied coldly. "Butyou are ungentlemanly to express yourself so freely. Why should yousay that?"

"Because I chance to know more than you suppose. Never mind how theinformation reached me; had it been less authentic you might find menow more susceptible to your presence, more choice in my language. Acarefully conceived plot drove me from the Confederate service, inwhich you were as deeply involved as Le Fevre. Its double object wasto advance him in rank and get me out of the way. The plan workedperfectly; I could have met and fought either object alone, but the twocombined broke me utterly. I had no spirit of resistance left. Yeteven then--in spite of that miserable letter--I retained faith in you. I returned home to learn the truth from your own lips, only to discoveryou had already gone. I was a month learning the facts; then Idiscovered you had married Le Fevre in Richmond; I procured theaffidavit of the officiating clergyman. Will you deny now?"

"No, " changing her manner instantly--"what is the use? I married theman, but I was deceived, misled. There was no conspiracy in which Iwas concerned. I did not know where you were; from then until thisafternoon I never saw or heard of you. Molly told me of her rescue bya soldier named Hamlin, but I never suspected the truth until we droveby the barracks. Then I yielded to my first mad impulse and sent thatnote. If you felt toward me with such bitterness, why did you comehere? Why consent to meet me again?"

"My yielding was to a second impulse. At first I decided to ignoreyour note; then came the second consideration--Miss McDonald. "

"Oh, " and she laughed, "at last I read the riddle. Not satisfied withsaving that young lady from savages, you would also preserve heryouthful innocence from the contamination of my influence. Quite nobleof you, surely. Are you aware of our relationship?"

"I have heard it referred to--garrison rumor. "

"Quite true, in spite of your source of information, which accounts, ina measure, for my presence here as well as my intimacy in the McDonaldhousehold. And you propose interfering, plan to drive me forth fromthis pleasant bird's nest. Really you amuse me, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin. "

"But I have not proposed anything of that nature, " the man saidquietly, rising to his feet. "It is, of course, nothing to me, exceptthat Miss McDonald has been very kind and seems a very nice girl. As Iknew something of you and your past, I thought perhaps you mightrealize how much better it would be to retire gracefully. "

"You mean that as a threat? You intend to tell her?"

"Not unless it becomes necessary; I am not proud of the story myself. "

Their eyes met, and there was no shadow of softness in either face. The woman's lips curled sarcastically. 

"Really, you take yourself quite seriously, do you not? One mightthink you still Major of the Fourth Texas, and heir to the old estateon the Brazos. You talked that way to me once before, only to discoverthat I had claws with which to scratch. Don't make that mistake again, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin, or there will be something more serious thanscratching done. I have learned how to fight in the past fewyears--Heaven knows I have had opportunity--and rather enjoy theexcitement. How far would your word go with Molly, do you think? Orwith the Major?"

"That remains to be seen. "

"Does it? Oh, I understand. You must still consider yourself quitethe lady-killer. Well, let me tell you something--she is engaged toLieutenant Gaskins. "

His hand-grip tightened on the rail, but there was no change in theexpression of his face. 

"So I had heard. I presume that hardly would have been permitted tohappen but for the existence of a Mr. Dupont. By the way, which one ofyou ladies shot the Lieutenant?"

It was a chance fire, and Hamlin was not sure of its effect, althoughshe drew a quick breath, and her voice faltered. 

"Shot--Lieutenant Gaskins?"

"Certainly; you must be aware of that?"

"Oh, I knew he had some altercation, and was wounded; he accused you, did he not? But why bring us into the affair?"

"Because some woman was directly concerned in it. Whoever she may be, the officers of the fort are convinced that she probably fired theshot; that the Lieutenant knows her identity, and is endeavoring toshield her from discovery. "

"Why do they think that? What reason can they have for such aconclusion? Was she seen?"

"Her footprints were plainly visible, and the revolver used was a smallone--a '36'--such as a woman alone would carry in this country. I havesaid so to no one else, but I saw her, crouching in the shadow of thebarrack wall. "

"You--you saw her? Recognized her?"

"Yes. "

"And made no attempt at arrest? Have not even mentioned the fact toothers? You must have a reason?"

"I have, Mrs. Dupont, but we will not discuss it now. I merely wishyou to comprehend that if it is to be war between us, I am inpossession of weapons. "

She had not lost control of herself, yet there was that about herhesitancy of speech, her quick breathing, which evidenced her surpriseat this discovery. It told him that he had played a good hand, hadfound a point of weakness in her armor. The mystery of it remainedunsolved, but this woman knew who had shot Gaskins; knew, and had everyreason to guard the secret. He felt her eyes anxiously searching hisface, and laughed a little bitterly. 

"You perceive, madam, " he went on, encouraged by her silence, "I am notnow exactly the same unsuspecting youth with whom you played so easilyyears ago. I have learned some of life's lessons since; among them howto fight fire with fire. It is a trick of the plains. Do you stillconsider it necessary for your happiness to remain the guest of theMcDonalds?"

She straightened up, turning her eyes away. 

"Probably not for long, but it is no threat of yours which influencesme. It does not even interest me to know who shot Lieutenant Gaskins. He is a vulgar little prig, only made possible by the possession ofmoney. However, when I decide to depart, I shall probably do sowithout consulting your pleasure. " She hesitated, her voice softeningas though in change of mood. "Yet I should prefer parting with you infriendship. In asking you to meet me to-night I had no intention ofquarrelling; merely yielded to an impulse of regret for the past--"

The heavy curtain draping the window was drawn aside, permitting thelight from within to flash upon them, revealing the figure of a man inuniform. 

"Pardon my interruption, " he explained, bowing, "but you were gone solong, Mrs. Dupont, I feared some accident. "

She laughed lightly. 

"You are very excusable. No doubt I have been here longer than Isupposed. "

The officer's eyes surveyed the soldier standing erect, his hand liftedin salute. The situation puzzled him. 

"Sergeant Hamlin, how are you here? On leave?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Of course this is rather unusual, Captain Barrett, " said the ladyhastily, tapping the astonished officer lightly with her fan, "but Iwas once quite well acquainted with Sergeant Hamlin when he was a majorof the Fourth Texas Infantry during the late war. He and my husbandwere intimates. Naturally I was delighted to meet with him again. "

The Captain stared at the man's rigid figure. 

"Good Lord, I never knew that, Hamlin, " he exclaimed. "Glad to knowit, my man. You see, " he explained lamely, "we get all kinds offellows in the ranks, and are not interested in their past history. I've had Hamlin under my command for two years now, and hanged if I knewanything about him, except that he was a good soldier. Were you readyto go, Mrs. Dupont?"

"Oh, yes; we have exhausted all our reminiscences. Good-bye, Sergeant;so glad to have met you again. "

She extended her ungloved hand, a single diamond glittering in thelight. He accepted it silently, aware of the slight pressure of herfingers. Then the Captain assisted her through the window, and thefalling curtain veiled them from view. 

CHAPTER XVIII

ANOTHER MESSAGE

Hamlin sank back on the bench and leaned his head on his hand. Hadanything been accomplished by this interview? One thing, at least--hehad thoroughly demonstrated that the charm once exercised over hisimagination by this beautiful woman had completely vanished. He sawher now as she was--heartless, selfish, using her spell of beauty forher own sordid ends. If there had been left a shred of romance in hismemory of her, it was now completely shattered. Her coolness, heradroit changing of moods, convinced him she was playing a game. Whatgame? Nothing in her words had revealed its nature, yet the maninstinctively felt that it must involve Molly McDonald. Laboriously hereviewed, word by word, each sentence exchanged, striving to find someclue. He had pricked her in the Gaskins affair, there was no doubt ofthat; she knew, or at least suspected, the party firing the shot. Shedenied at first having been married to Le Fevre, and yet later had beencompelled to acknowledge that marriage. There then was a deliberatefalsehood, which must have been told for a purpose. What purpose? Didshe imagine it would make any difference with him, or did she seek toshield Le Fevre from discovery? The latter reason appeared the moreprobable, for the man must have been in the neighborhood lately, elsewhere did that haversack come from?

So engrossed was Hamlin with these thoughts that he hardly realizedthat some one had lifted the window curtain cautiously. The beam oflight flashed across him, disappearing before he could lift his head toascertain the cause. Then a voice spoke, and he leaned back to listen. 

"Not there; gone back to the dance likely, while we were at the bar. "

"Nobody out there?" this fellow growled his words. 

"Some soldier asleep with his head on the rail; drunk, I reckon. Whowas she with this time?"

"Barrett. "

"Who? Oh, yes, the fellow who brought in that troop of the Seventh. Lord, the old girl is getting her hooks into him early. Well, as longas Gaskins is laid up, she may as well amuse herself somewhere else. Barrett is rather a good looker, isn't he? Do you know anything aboutthe man? Has he got any stuff?"

"Don't know, " answered the gruff voice. "He 's a West Pointer. Veralikes to amuse herself once in a while; that's the woman of it. Heardfrom Gaskins to-night?"

"Oh, he 's all right, " the man laughed. "That little prick frightenedhim though. Shut up like a clam. "

"So I heard. He 'll pay to keep the story quiet, all right. As soonas he is well enough to come down here, we 'll tap his bundle. Sworehe was shot by a cavalry sergeant, did n't he?"

"And sticks to it like a mule. Must have it in for that fellow. Well, it helped our get-a-way. "

"Yes, we 're safe enough, unless Gaskins talks, and he 's so in lovewith the McDonald girl he 'll spiel out big rather than have anyscandal now. Wish I could get a word with Vera to-night; she ought tosee him to-morrow--compassion, womanly sympathy, and all that rot, youknow, helps the game. Let's drift over toward the Palace, Dan, andmaybe I can give her the sign. "

Hamlin caught a glimpse of their backs as they passed out--one ininfantry fatigue, the other, a heavier built man, fairly well dressedin citizen's clothes. Inspired by a desire to see their features theSergeant swung himself over the rail, and dropped lightly to theground. In another moment he was out on the street, in front of thehotel, watching the open door. The two passed within a few feet ofhim, clearly revealed in the light streaming from the dance hall. Thesoldier lagged somewhat behind, an insignificant, rat-faced fellow, butthe larger man walked straight, with squared shoulders. He wore abroad-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes, and a black beard concealedthe lower portion of his face. Hamlin followed as the two pushed theirway up among the idle crowd congregated on the wooden steps, and peeredin through the wide doorway. Satisfied that he would recognize bothworthies when they met again, and realizing now something of the plotbeing operated, Hamlin edged in closer toward the sergeant who wasguarding the entrance. The latter recognized him with a nod. 

"Pretty busy, Masters?"

"Have been, but there will be a lull now; when they come back fromsupper there 'll be another rush likely. Would you mind taking my joba minute while I go outside?"

"Not in the least; take your time. Let me see what the tickets looklike. That 's all right--say, Masters, before you go, do you know thatbig duffer with a black beard in the front line?"

The other gave a quick glance down the faces. 

"I've seen him before; dealt faro at the Poodle Dog a while; said to bea gun-man. Never heard his name. Oh, yes, come to think about it, they called him 'Reb'--Confed soldier, I reckon. Ain't seen him beforefor a month. Got into some kind off a shootin' scrap up at MikeKelly's and skipped out ahead of the marshal. Why?"

"Nothing particular--looks familiar, that 's all. Who 's the soldierbehind him--the thin-faced runt?"

"Connors. Some river-rat the recruiting officers picked up in NewYork; in the guard-house most of the time; driver for Major McDonaldwhen he happens to be sober enough. "

"That is where I saw him then, driving the ladies. Knew I had seenthat mug before. "

Left alone, except for the infantry man at the other side of theentrance, and with nothing to do beyond keeping back the little crowdof curious watchers thronging the steps, Hamlin interested himself inthe assembly, although keenly conscious of those two men who continuedto linger, staring into the brilliantly lighted room. That the twowere closely involved with Mrs. Dupont in some money-making scheme, closely verging on crime, was already sufficiently clear to theSergeant's mind. He had overheard enough to grasp this fact, yet thefull nature of the scheme was not apparent. Without doubt it involvedGaskins as a victim; possibly Barrett also, but Hamlin was not inclinedto interfere personally for the protection of either of these officers. They could look after themselves, and, if they succumbed to the charmsof the lady, and it cost something, why, that was none of his affair. But somehow the suspicion had come to him that he had accidentallystumbled upon a more complicated plot than mere blackmail. Mrs. Dupont's intimacy with Molly, and the use she was making of her distantrelationship with the Major to further her ends, made him eager todelve deeper into her real purpose. At least these two, apparentlyignorant of their guest's true character, should be warned, or, if thatwas impossible, protected from imposture. Their open friendliness andsocial endorsement were the woman's stock in trade at Dodge, andwhatever the final _dénouement_ might be, McDonald and his daughterwould inevitably share in the ensuing disgrace of discovery. Even ifthey were not also victimized, they would be held largely responsiblefor the losses of others. Had Hamlin been a commissioned officer hewould have known what to do--his plain duty as a friend would havetaken form in a frankly spoken warning. But, as it was, the chains ofdiscipline, of social rank, made it seemingly impossible for him toapproach either the Major or his daughter openly. He did not actuallyknow enough to venture such an interview, and mere suspicion, eventhough coupled with his former intimacy with the woman, was notsufficient excuse for his interference. The Major would treat therevelation with indifference, even disbelief, and Miss Molly might evenresent his meddling in the affair. Besides he was not altogetherconvinced that the girl had not been actually present at, and in somemanner connected with, the attack on Gaskins. The memory of that face, shrinking behind the corner of the barrack wall, remained clear in hismind. He might be mistaken, but perhaps it would be best to go slow. 

It was a huge, bare hall, although the walls were concealed by flags, while other draperies were festooned along the rafters. The band wasstationed upon a raised platform at the rear, and a hundred couplesoccupied the floor. The men present were largely officers attired indress-uniforms, although there was a considerable sprinkling ofcivilians, a few conspicuous in garments of the latest cut and style. Evidently invitations had been widely spread, and, considering time andplace, liberally responded to. Among the women present the Sergeantsaw very few he recognized, yet it was comparatively easy to classifythe majority--officers' wives; the frontier helpmates of the moreprominent merchants of the town; women from the surrounding ranches, who had deserted their homes until the Indian scare ceased; a scatteredfew from pretentious small cities to the eastward, and, here and there, younger faces, representing ranchmen's daughters, with a school-teacheror two. Altogether they made rather a brave show, occasionallyexhibiting toilets worthy of admiring glances, never lacking ardentpartners, and entering with unalloyed enthusiasm into the evening'spleasure. The big room presented a scene of brilliant color, ofceaselessly moving figures; the air was resonant with laughter andtrembling to the dashing strains of the band. Primitive as it was inmany respects, to Hamlin, long isolated in small frontier posts, thescene was strangely attractive, his imagination responding to the glowof color, the merry chime of voices, the tripping of feet. The smilingfaces flashed past, his ears caught whispered words, his eyes followedthe flying figures. For the moment the man forgot himself in this newenvironment of thoughtless pleasure. 

From among that merry throng of strangers, his eyes soon distinguishedthat one in whom he felt special interest--Mrs. Dupont, dancing nowwith McDonald, the rather corpulent Major exhibiting almost youthfulagility under the inspiration of music. The lady talked withanimation, as they circled among the others on the floor, her red lipsclose to her partner's ear, but Hamlin, suspicious and watchful, notedthat her eyes were busy elsewhere, scanning the faces. They swept overhim apparently unseeing, but as the two circled swiftly by, the handresting lightly on the Major's shoulder was uplifted suddenly in apeculiar, suggestive movement. He stared after them until they werelost in the crowd, feeling confident that the motion of thosewhite-gloved fingers was meant as a signal of warning. To whom was itconveyed? He glanced aside at the jam of figures in the doorway. Boththe black-whiskered man and Connors had disappeared. It _was_ a signalthen, instantly understood and obeyed. 

The Sergeant had scarcely grasped this fact when his attention wasdiverted by the appearance of Miss McDonald. She was dancing with acivilian, an immaculately dressed individual with ruddy, boyish face. His intense admiration of his partner was plainly evident, and thegirl, simply dressed in white, her cheeks flushed, her dark eyes brightwith enjoyment, set Hamlin's cool nerves throbbing. He could notresist gazing at her, and, as their eyes met, she bowed, the full redlips parting in a smile of recognition. There was no reservation, norestraint in that quick greeting, as she whirled by; he could not failto comprehend its full significance--she had not forgotten, had nodesire to forget. What he imagined he read in her face swept all elsefrom his mind instantly, and, with eager eyes, he followed her slight, girlish figure as they circled the hall. The music ceased, and hestill watched as the lad led her to a seat, himself sinking into achair beside her. Then the passing out of several men, who desiredreturn checks, claimed his attention. When the last of these haddisappeared, he glanced again in her direction. She was alone, and heryoung partner was walking toward him across the deserted floor. Thelad came to the door, which by now contained few loiterers, and stoodthere a moment gazing out into the street. 

"Are you Sergeant Hamlin?" he asked quietly. 

"Yes. "

"Miss McDonald requested me to hand you this note unobserved. I haveno knowledge of its contents. "

Hamlin felt the flutter of the paper in his palm, and stood silent, clinging to it, as the other carelessly recrossed the room. She waslooking toward him, but he made no motion to unfold the missive, untilhis eyes, searching the chairs, had located Mrs. Dupont. The verysecret of delivery made him cautious, made him suspect it had to dowith that woman. She was beside the band-stand, still conversing withthe Major, apparently oblivious to any other presence, her face turnedaside. Assured of this, he opened the paper, and glanced at the fewhastily scribbled lines. 

"I trust you, and you must believe I do not do this without cause. During the intermission be in the hotel parlor. "

CHAPTER XIX

A FULL CONFESSION

There were two more dances scheduled on the program. The last of thesehad begun before the infantry sergeant returned, and, apologizing for hislong absence, resumed his duties at the door. Across the room, Hamlin'seyes met those of Miss McDonald, where she danced with an unknownofficer; then he turned and elbowed his way to the street. The hotelopposite was all bustle and confusion, the bar-room crowded with thethirsty emergency waiters who had rushed about the hall completing finalpreparations. The Sergeant, intent on his purpose, and aware that theband had ceased playing, dodged past these and entered the parlor. Itwas already occupied by four men, who were playing cards at a small, round table and smoking vigorously, entirely engrossed in their game. None of them so much as glanced up, and the intruder hesitated aninstant, quickly determining his course of action. There was littlechoice left. The girl would never make an appointment with him exceptthrough necessity, and it was manifestly his duty to protect her fromobservation. Two of the men sitting there were strangers; the others heknew merely by sight, a tin-horn gambler called Charlie, and a sutler'sclerk. His decision was swift, and characteristic. 

"Gents, " he said, stepping up, and tapping the table sharply, "you 'llhave to vamoose from here. "

"What the hell--" the gambler looked up into the gray eyes, and stopped. 

"That's all right, Charlie, " went on Hamlin coolly, one hand at his belt. "Those are my orders, and they go. Hire a room upstairs if you want tokeep on with the game. Pick up the stuff, you fellows. "

"But see here, " the speaker was upon his feet protesting. "The old mantold us we could come in here. "

"The old man's word don't go for this floor to-night, partner. It'srented by the post officers. Now mosey right along, and don't come backunless you are looking for trouble--you too, Fatty. "

Right or wrong there was plainly no use continuing the argument, forHamlin's fingers were upon the butt of his revolver, and his eyeshardened at the delay. The gambler's inclination was to oppose thissummary dismissal, but a glance at his crowd convinced him he would haveto play the hand alone, so he yielded reluctantly, swept the chips intothe side pocket of his coat and departed, leaving behind a trail ofprofanity. The Sergeant smiled, but remained motionless until theydisappeared. 

"The bluff works, " he thought serenely, "unless they make a kick at theoffice; some peeved, Charlie was. "

He stepped over to the window, and held back the curtain. A burly figureoccupied the bench, with feet upon the rail. Even in that outsidedimness could be distinguished a black beard. The very man, and theSergeant chuckled grimly with a swiftly born hope that the fellow mightcreate a row. Nothing at that moment could have pleased him more. Heblew out the parlor light, partially closed the door, and stepped forthon to the porch. 

"Say, you, " he said gruffly, dropping one hand heavily on the other'sshoulder. "Did you hear what I said to those fellows inside? Well, itgoes out here the same. Pack up, and clear the deck. "

"Reb" dropped his feet to the floor and stood up, his bearded lipsgrowling profanity, but Hamlin gripped his wrist, and the man stopped, with mouth still open, staring into the Sergeant's face. All bravadoseemed to desert him instantly. 

"Who--who says so?" and he stepped back farther into the shadow. 

"I do, if you need to know, " pleasantly enough. "Sergeant Hamlin, Seventh Cavalry. "

"Oh!" the exclamation came from between clenched teeth. "Hell, man, youstartled me. "

"So I see; nervous disposition, I reckon. Well, are you going quietly, or shall I hoist you over the rail?"

"I had an appointment here. "

"Can't help that, partner. This porch is going to be vacant inside ofone minute, or there is a declaration of war. Your easiest way out isthrough that window, but you can go by rail if you prefer. "

The black beard wasted half his allowed time in an effort at bluster;then, to Hamlin's utter disgust, slunk through the open window and acrossthe darkened parlor. 

"The pusillanimous cuss, " the latter muttered, "he 's worse than a curdog. Blamed if he was n't actually afraid of me. A gun-fighter--pugh!"He lifted his voice, as "Reb" paused in the light of the hall beyond andglanced back, a fist doubled and uplifted. "Oh, go on! Sure, you 'llget me? You are the brave boy, now, " and Hamlin strode toward the doorthreateningly. "Lope along, son, and don't turn around again until youface the bar. "

He drew the door partially to again, and sat down facing the opening, where a stray beam of light fell across the floor. Thus far theadventure had scarcely proven interesting. The last encounter had been adistinct disappointment. The dispersal of the card-players was, asanticipated, easily managed, but the reputation of "Reb" as killer andbad man had given him hope of resistance. But instead he had proven aperfect lamb. Hamlin crossed his legs and waited, his mind divided inwonder between what Miss McDonald might want, and the cowardice of thefellow just driven out. The man was actually afraid--afraid to start arow. Yet he had got to his feet with that intention; it was only afterhe had looked into Hamlin's face and asked his name, that he began tohedge and draw back. Could he have recognized him? Could Mrs. Duponthave warned him of danger in his direction? That would seem impossible, for the woman had not been with him for even a minute since theirconversation. She had given him a swift signal at the door of the dancehall, but that could scarcely account for his present desire to avoidtrouble. An engagement? Probably with Mrs. Dupont. But what was theuse of speculating? Perhaps when the girl came she would have some lightto throw on these matters. Surely her sudden determination to see himprivately must have connection with this affair. 

These thoughts came swiftly, for his period of waiting proved to be but ashort one. He heard the laughter and talk as the merry-makers came intothe hotel from the dance hall, crowding the passage, and thronging in towhere the tables were set. Then a rattle of dishes, and the steadyshuffling of waiters rushing back and forth. Occasionally he coulddistinguish a shadow out in the hall, but never changed his motionlessposture, or removed his eyes from the aperture, until she slippednoiselessly through and stood there panting slightly, her hand claspingthe knob of the door. Apparently in the semi-darkness of the room shewas uncertain of his presence, while her white dress touched by theoutside reflection made her clearly visible. 

"It is all right, Miss McDonald, " he murmured hastily, arising. "Thereis nothing to fear. "

"You are here--alone?"

"Yes, " smiling in memory. "There were occupants when I first arrived, but they were persuaded to depart. I had a suspicion you might prefer itthat way. "

"Yes, " puzzled by his manner, yet softly pushing the door back so as toexclude the light. "I can see better now. Are--are you sure no one canoverhear? I have something to tell you--something important. "

"There is no one else here, yet some one might stumble into this room. It is not private, you know. We shall be safer on the porch outside. Will you take my hand, and let me guide you?"

She did so unhesitatingly, but her fingers were cold, and he could feelthe twitching of her nerves. 

"You are frightened--not of me, surely?"

"Oh, no!" a slight catch in her voice, "but I am running such a riskventuring here. I--I had to pretend a sick-headache to get away. Youmust not condemn me until you hear why I came. "

"I condemn? Hardly, Miss McDonald. I am merely a soldier receivingorders; 'mine not to question why. ' Here is the window; now sit down onthis bench. I 'll keep guard, and listen. " His voice sank lower, alittle touch of tenderness in it impossible to disguise. "Are you introuble? Is it something I can aid you to overcome?"

She did not answer at once but rested her chin in one hand, and turnedher eyes away. Her breath came swiftly, as though she had not yetrecovered from fright, and her face in the dim light looked white anddrawn. 

"Yes, you can, " she began slowly, "I am sure you can. I--I came to youbecause there was no one else in whom I felt the same confidence. I knowthat sounds strange, but I cannot explain--only it seems natural to trustsome people even when you do not know them very well. I do not suppose Iknow you very well; just those few hours we were together, but--somehow Ithink you are true. "

"I certainly hope so, " he put in earnestly. "I couldn't very well helpbeing--with you. "

"I believe that, " and she lifted her eyes to his face. 

"Yet I do not wish you to think me bold, or--or indiscreet. You do notthink so, do you?"

"That idea has never once occurred to me, Miss McDonald. I am only tooglad to be of service. "

"It is good of you to say that; you see, there was no one else. "

"Your father?" he suggested. 

"But that is the very trouble, " she insisted, rejoicing that he had thusunconsciously opened the way to her confession. "It is because my fatheris involved, is completely in her toils, that I am compelled to appeal toyou. He will not listen to a word against her. "

"Her? You refer to Mrs. Dupont?"

"Of course; why, I hadn't mentioned her name! How did you guess?"

"Because I am not entirely ignorant of conditions, " he answered soberly. "Although I have only been at the post a short time, I have managed tosee and hear a good deal. You know I chanced to become involved in theshooting of Lieutenant Gaskins, and then I saw you riding with Mrs. Dupont, and recognized her. "

"Recognized?" in surprise. "Do you actually mean you knew her before?"

"Not as Mrs. Dupont, but as Vera Carson, years ago. She knew me at once, and sent your driver over to the barracks with a note. "

"Why, how strange. She asked me so many questions, I wondered at theinterest shown. Do you mind telling me what the note was about?"

"Not in the least. She referred to the past, and asked me to meet her. "

"Were you--very intimate? Great friends?"

"We were engaged to be married, " he acknowledged frankly, his eyes uponher face. "That was at the breaking out of the war, and I was in mysenior college year. We met at school, and I was supposed to be the heirto a large property. She is a beautiful woman now, and she was abeautiful girl then. I thought her as good and true as she was charming. Since then I have learned her selfishness and deceit, that it was mymoney which attracted her, and that she really loved another man, aclassmate. "

She glanced up at him as he paused, but he resumed the story withoutbeing interrupted. 

"The war came, and I enlisted at once, and received a commission. Almostour entire class went, and the man she really loved was next below me inrank. "

"Eugene Le Fevre?"

"Yes; how did you know? Oh, I told you of him out there in thesand-hills. Well, I urged her to marry me before I went to the front, but she made excuses. Later, I understood the reason--she was uncertainas to my inheriting the property of an uncle. We were ordered to theArmy of Northern Virginia. Once I went home on furlough, severelywounded. We were to be married then, but I had not sufficientlyrecovered when I was suddenly ordered back to the front. I did suspectthen, for the first time, that she was glad of the respite. I afterwardsdiscovered that during all this time she was in correspondence with LeFevre, who had been detailed on Early's staff. It was his influencewhich brought about my sudden, unexpected recall to duty. A few monthslater I was promoted major, and, at Fisher's Hill, found myselfcommanding the regiment. Early in the action Le Fevre brought me anorder; it was delivered verbally, the only other party present a corporalnamed Shultz, a German knowing little English. Early's exact words were:'Advance at once across the creek, and engage the enemy fiercely; asupporting column will move immediately. ' Desperate as the duty involvedappeared, there was nothing in the order as given to arouse suspicion. In obedience I flung my command forward, leading them on foot. Wecharged into a trap, and were nearly annihilated, and Shultz was eitherkilled, or made prisoner. Two days later I was arrested under charges, was tried by court-martial, and dismissed from the service in disgrace. Early produced a copy of his written order; it read 'cautiously feel theenemy's position, ' and Le Fevre went on the stand, and swore the originalhad been delivered to me. I had no witnesses. "

She watched him with wide-open eyes, her lips parted. 

"And she--this Vera Carson?"

The man laughed bitterly. 

"Wrote him a letter, which the man actually had the nerve to show me whenI was helpless, proving her falsity. I would not believe, and went backseeking her. But she had departed--no one knew where--but had firstconvinced herself that my name had been erased from my uncle's will. Twomonths later I heard that she married Le Fevre in Richmond. "

"And she--that woman--actually asked you to meet her again to-night?"

"Yes. "

"Did you?"

"I must plead guilty. "

"Where?"

"Here; just where we are now; we were together half an hour. "

She half arose to her feet, her hand grasping the rail. 

"But I cannot understand. Why should you? Do you--"

"No; wait, " he interrupted, venturing to touch her arm. "I came, notbecause of any interest in her, Miss Molly--but for you. "

CHAPTER XX

MOLLY TELLS HER STORY

Her breath came in a little sob, and she sank back on the bench. 

"For me? How do you mean?"

"Surely I had every reason to distrust her, to question her character, and I could not believe you realized the sort of woman she is. I feltit my duty to discover her purpose here, and to warn you if possible. "

"And you have succeeded? You learned her purpose in your interview?"

"Not exactly, " with regret. "My suspicion was merely stimulated. Totell the truth, we rather drifted into a renewal of our old quarrel. However, between what she said, and parts of another conversationoverheard, I know there is a blackmailing conspiracy on foot in whichyou are involved. May I speak very frankly?"

"I certainly desire it, " proudly. "I am not aware that I have anythingto conceal. "

"Apparently the scheme these people have on foot originated aboutLieutenant Gaskins. He is wealthy, I understand?"

"I have been told so; yes, I know he is. "

"This knowledge, coupled with the fact of your engagement--"

"My what?"

"Your engagement. I had heard it rumored before, and Mrs. Dupontassured me it was true. "

"But it is not true, Sergeant Hamlin"--indignantly. "I cannot imaginehow such a report ever started. Lieutenant Gaskins has been veryfriendly; has--" her voice breaking slightly, "even asked me to marryhim, but--but I told him that was impossible. He has been just as kindto me since, but there is nothing, absolutely nothing between us. Ihave never spoken about this before to any one. "

If Hamlin's heart leaped wildly at this swift denial, there was noevidence of it in his quiet voice. 

"The point is, Miss Molly, that Mrs. Dupont, and those connected withher, think otherwise. They are presuming on Gaskins' being in lovewith you. Mrs. Dupont can be very seductive. Little by little she hasdrawn the Lieutenant into her net. Believing him engaged to you, theyhave him now where he must either pay money for silence or be exposed. Just how it was worked, I do not know. The shooting last night wasdone to convince him they were serious. The fact that Gaskins laterdenied knowing who his assailants were--even endeavored to accuseme--is abundant proof of their success. " He hesitated, wondering ather silence. "What puzzles me most is why you were present. "

"Present? Where?"

"At this quarrel with Gaskins last evening. As I ran by toward thescene of the shooting I passed you hiding at the angle or the barrackwall. Of course, I have mentioned the fact to no one. That was why Imade no attempt to defend myself when arrested. "

She gasped for breath, scarcely able to articulate. 

"You believe that? You think that of me?"

"I may have been deceived; I hope so; there was but little light, and Igot merely a glimpse, " he explained hastily. 

"You were deceived, " impetuously. "I was not out of the house thatevening. I was in the parlor with my father when those shots werefired. You are sure you saw a woman there--hiding?"

"There is no doubt of that; her foot-prints were plainly to be seen inthe morning. This discovery, together with the size of the weaponused, resulted in my immediate release. I saw her, and imagined her tobe you. I cannot account for the mistake, unless you were in my mind, and--and possibly what I had heard of your connection with Gaskins. Then it must have been Mrs. Dupont. That looks reasonable. But shestays at your home, does she not?"

"She makes our house her headquarters, but is absent occasionally. Last night she was here at this hotel. Well, we are getting thisstraightened out a little--that is, if you believe me. "

"Of course. "

"Then I am going to question you. You spoke of overhearing aconversation?"

"Yes; it was after Mrs. Dupont had left. Captain Barrett came, andtook her away. I was sitting here thinking when two men came into theparlor. "

"Who were they? Do you know?"

"One was the soldier who drives you about--Connors; the other ablack-bearded, burly fellow called 'Reb. '"

"Mr. Dupont. "

"What? Is that Dupont? Lord! No wonder she 's gone bad. Why, Ithought her husband was a ranchman down South somewhere! This fellowis a tin-horn. "

"He did run cattle once, years ago. I think he was quite well off, butdrank and gambled it away. Papa told me all about it, but I found outhe was the man by accident. He--is the one I am really afraid of. "

She stopped, her eyes deserting his face, and stared out into thedarkness. He waited, feeling vaguely that he had not heard all sheintended to say. 

"What more do you know?" he asked. "What was it you expected of me?"

She turned again, aroused by the question. 

"Yes, I must tell you as quickly as I can, before I am missed. I didnot know about Mrs. Dupont and Lieutenant Gaskins. I realized therewas something between them--a--a--slight flirtation, but scarcely gavethat a thought. What brought me here was a much more serious matter, yet this new information helps me to comprehend the other--the motives, I mean. Mrs. Dupont's maiden name was Vera Carson?"

"Certainly; I knew her family well. "

"She came here, and was received into our family as a daughter of myfather's sister. If true, her maiden name would have been SarahCounts. Papa had no reason to suspect the deceit. He does not now, and I doubt if even your word would convince him, for he seemsthoroughly under her influence. There has been such a change in himsince she came; not all at once, you know, but gradual, until now hescarcely seems like the same man. I--I do not dislike LieutenantGaskins; he has been pleasant and attentive, but I do not care for himin any other way. Yet papa insists that I marry the man. Lately hehas been very unkind about it, and--and I am sure she is urging him on. What can I do? It is all so unpleasant. "

Hamlin shook his head, but without reply. 

"You will not tell me! Then I will tell you I shall say no! no! no!In spite of them; I shall refuse to be sold. But how does that womancontrol my father?" she leaned closer in her earnestness, lowering hervoice. "She has not won him by charms; he is afraid of her. "

"Afraid? Are you certain of that?"

"Yes. I cannot tell you how I know; perhaps it is all womanlyinstinct, but I do know that he is terrorized; that he dare not opposeher wish. I have read the truth in his eyes, and I am sure he is harshto me only because he is driven by some threat. What can it be?"

"You have never spoken to him of your suspicions? Asked him?"

"Yes and no. I tried once, and shall never forget the expression ofhis face. Then he turned on me in a perfect paroxysm of anger. Inever even dared hint at the matter again. "

The Sergeant stared out into the street, not knowing what to say, orhow to advise. Almost unconscious of the action his hand stole alongthe rail until it touched hers. 

"If the woman has not ensnared him by her usual methods, " he saidsoberly, "and I think myself you are right about that, for I watchedthem together in the dance hall--I did not comprehend what it meantthen, but it seemed to me he actually disliked being in hercompany--then she has uncovered something in his past of which he isafraid, something unknown to you, which he does not desire you ever toknow. "

"Yes, " softly, "that must be true. "

"No; it may not be true; it may all be a lie, concocted for a purpose. A clever woman might so manipulate circumstances as to convince him sheheld his fate in her hands. We must find that out in this case. "

"But how, Sergeant Hamlin? He will not tell me. "

"Perhaps she will tell me if I can reach her alone, " he said grimly, "or else that husband of hers--Dupont. He 'll know the whole story. It would give me pleasure to choke it out of him--real pleasure. Thenthere 's Connors, just the sort of sneaking rat if he can be caughtwith the goods; only it is not likely he knows much. I shall have tothink it all out, Miss Molly, " he smiled at her confidently. "You see, I am a bit slow figuring puzzles, but I generally get them in time. You 've told me all you know?"

"Everything. It almost seems silly when I try to explain what I feelto another. "

"Not to me. I knew enough before to understand. But, perhaps, you hadbetter go--hush, some one is entering the parlor. "

She got to her feet in spite of his restraining hand, startled andunnerved. 

"Oh, I must not be seen here. Is there no other way?"

"No; be still for a moment; step back there in the shadow, and let mego in alone. "

He stepped forward, his grasp already on the curtain, when a woman'svoice spoke within:

"Yes, that was what I meant; he does not know you--yet. But you mustkeep away. "

CHAPTER XXI

MOLLY DISAPPEARS

The speaker was Mrs. Dupont, but Hamlin's one thought was to preventany discovery of Miss McDonald. Without an instant's hesitation hedrew aside the curtain, and stepped into the room. 

"Pardon me, " he said quietly, as the two started back at his ratherabrupt entrance, "but I did not care to overhear your conversation. Nodoubt it was intended to be private. "

[Illustration: The two started back at his rather abrupt entrance. ]

The woman stepped somewhat in advance of her companion, as though toshield him from observation, instantly mastering her surprise. 

"Nothing at all serious, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin, " she retorted scornfully. "Don't be melodramatic, please; it gets on the nerves. If you mustknow, I was merely giving our ranch foreman a few final instructions, as he leaves to-morrow. Have you objections?"

"Assuredly not--your ranch foreman, you say? Met him before, I think. You are the fellow I ordered out of this room, are n't you?"

The man growled something unintelligible, but Mrs. Dupont prevented anydirect reply. 

"That's all right, John, " she broke in impatiently. "You understandwhat I want now, and need not remain any longer. I have a word to saymyself to this man. "

She waited an instant while he left the room; then her eyes defiantlymet Hamlin's. 

"I was told you had driven every one out of here, " she said coldly. "What was the game?"

"This room was reserved--"

"Pish! keep that explanation for some one else. You wanted the roomfor some purpose. Who have you got out there?" she pointed at thewindow. 

"Whether there be any one or not, " he answered, leaning against thewindow frame, and thus barring the passage, "I fail to see wherein youare concerned. "

She laughed. 

"Which remark is equivalent to a confession. Dave, " suddenly changing, "why should we quarrel, and misjudge each other? You cannot suppose Ihave forgotten the past, or am indifferent. Cannot you forgive themistake of a thoughtless girl? Is there any reason why we should notbe, at least, friendly?"

There was an appeal in her voice, but the man's face did not respond. 

"I cannot say that I feel any bitterness over the past, " he answeredlightly. "I am willing enough to blot that out. What I am interestedin is the present. I should like to understand your purpose here atDodge. "

"Surely that is sufficiently clear. I am merely an exile from home, onaccount of Indian depredations. What more natural than that I shouldtake refuge in my uncle's house. "

"You mean Major McDonald?"

"Certainly--he was my mother's only brother. "

"I think I have heard somewhere that the Major's only sister married aman named Counts. "

She drew in her breath sharply. 

"Yes, of course--her first husband. "

"You were a daughter then of her first marriage?"

"Of course. "

"But assumed the name of Carson when she married again?"

"That was when you met me. "

"The change was natural enough, " he went on. 

"But why did you also become Vera in place of Sarah?"

"Oh, is that it? Well, never attempt to account for the vagaries of agirl, " she returned lightly, as though dismissing the subject. "Ipresume I took a fancy to the prettier name. But how did you know?"

"Garrison rumor picks up nearly everything, and it is not very kind toyou, Mrs. Dupont. I hope I am doing you a favor in saying this. Yourrather open flirtation with Lieutenant Gaskins is common talk, evenamong enlisted men, and I have heard that your relations with MajorMcDonald are peculiar. "

"Indeed!" with a rising inflection of the voice. "How kind of you, andso delicately expressed. " She laughed. "And poor Major McDonald!Really, that is ridiculous. Could you imagine my flirting with him?"

"I have no recollection of using that term in this connection. But youhave strange influence over him. For some reason the man is apparentlyafraid of you. "

"Afraid of me? Oh, no! Some one has been fooling you, Dave. I ammerely Major McDonald's guest. I wonder who told you that? Shall Iguess?"

Before he could realize her purpose the woman took a hasty stepforward, and swept aside the curtain, thrusting her head past to whereshe could gain a view outside. Hamlin pressed her back with one hand, planting himself squarely before the window. She met his eyesspitefully. 

"I was mistaken this time, " she acknowledged, drawing away, "but I 'dlike to know why you were so anxious to prevent my looking out. Do youknow whom I thought you had there?"

"As you please, " rejoicing that the girl had escaped notice. 

"That little snip of a Molly. You made a hit with her all right, andshe certainly don't like me. Well, delightful as it is to meet youagain, I must be going. " She turned away, and then paused to add overher shoulder. "Don't you think it would be just as safe for you toattend to your own business, Sergeant Hamlin?"

"And let you alone?"

"Exactly; and let me alone. I am hardly the sort of woman it is safeto play with. It will be worth your while to remember that. "

He waited, motionless, until assured that she had passed down the hallas far as the door of the dining-room. The sound of shuffling chairsevidenced the breaking up of the party, in preparation to return to theballroom. If Miss McDonald's absence were to escape observation, shewould have to slip out now and rejoin the others as they left thehouse. He again turned down the light, and held back the curtain. 

"The way is clear now, Miss Molly. "

There was no response, no movement. He stepped outside, thinking thegirl must have failed to hear him. The porch was empty. He steppedfrom one end to the other, making sure she was not crouching in thedarkness, scarcely able to grasp the fact of her actual disappearance. This, then, was why Mrs. Dupont had failed to see any one when sheglanced out. But where could the girl have gone? How gotten away? Hehad heard no sound behind him; not even the rustle of a skirt to betraymovement. It was not far to the ground, five or six feet, perhaps; itwould be perfectly safe for one to lower the body over the rail anddrop. The matted prairie grass under foot would render the actnoiseless. No doubt that was exactly the way the escape had beenaccomplished. Alarmed by the presence of those others, suspecting thatthe woman within would insist on learning whom Hamlin was attempting toconceal, possibly overhearing enough of their conversation to becomefrightened at the final outcome, Miss McDonald, in sudden desperation, had surmounted the rail, and dropped to the ground. The rest would beeasy--to hasten around the side of the house, and slip in through thefront door. 

Assured that this must be the full explanation, the Sergeant'scheerfulness returned. The company of officers and guests had alreadyfiled out through the hall; he could hear voices laughing and talkingin the street, and the band tuning up their instruments across in thedance hall. He would go over and make certain of her presence, thenhis mind would be at ease. He passed out through the deserted hallway, and glanced in at the dining-room, where a number of men were gatheringup the dishes. Beyond this the barroom was crowded, a riffraff linedup before the sloppy bar, among these a number in uniform--unattachedofficers who had loitered behind to quench their thirst. Hamlin dranklittle, but lingered a moment just inside the doorway, to observe whowas present. Unconsciously he was searching for Dupont, half inclinedto pick a quarrel deliberately with the fellow or with Connors, determined if he found the little rat alone to frighten whateverknowledge he possessed out of him. But neither worthy appeared. Having assured himself of their absence, Hamlin turned to depart, butfound himself facing a little man with long hair, roughly dressed, whooccupied the doorway. The hooked nose, and bright eyes, peering forthfrom a mass of untrimmed gray whiskers, were familiar. 

"You keep the junk shop down by the express office, don't you?"

"Yep, " briskly, scenting business in the question. "I 'm Kaplan; votcould I do for you--hey?"

"Answer a question if you will, friend. Do you recall selling ahaversack to a traveller on the last stage out for Santa Fé in June?"

"Vel, I do' no; vas he a big fellow? Maybe de von vat vas killed--hey?"

"Yes; his name was Moylan, post-sutler at Fort Marcy. "

"Maybe dot vos it. Why you vant to know--hey?"

"No harm to you, Kaplan, " the Sergeant explained. "Only I picked it upout there after Moylan was killed, and discovered by some writing onthe flap that it originally belonged to a friend of mine. I wascurious to learn how it got into your hands. "

The trader shrugged his shoulders. 

"Vud it be worth a drink?" he asked cannily. 

"Of course. Frank, give Kaplan whatever he wants. Now, fire away. "

"Vel, " and the fellow filled his glass deliberately, "It vas sold mesix months before by a fellow vat had a black beard--"

"Dupont?"

"Dat vos de name ov de fellar, yes. Now I know it. I saw him hereagain soon. You know him?"

"By sight only; he is not the original owner, nor the man I am tryingto trace. You know nothing of where he got the bag, I presume?"

"I know notting more as I tell you alreatty, " rather disconsolately, ashe realized that one drink was all he was going to receive. 

Hamlin elbowed his way out to the street. He had learned something, but not much that was of any value. Undoubtedly the haversack had comeinto Dupont's possession through his wife, but this knowledge yieldedno information as to the present whereabouts of Le Fevre. When thelatter had separated from the woman, this old army bag was left behind, and, needing money, Dupont had disposed of it, along with other truck, seemingly of little value. 

The Sergeant reached this conclusion quickly, and, satisfied that anyfurther investigation along this line would be worthless, reverted tohis earlier quest--the safety of Miss McDonald. Merely to satisfyhimself of her presence, he crossed the street and glanced in at thewhirling dancers. There were few loiterers at the doorway and he stoodfor a moment beside the guard, where he was able to survey the entireroom. Mrs. Dupont was upon the floor, and swept past twice, withoutlifting her eyes in recognition, but neither among the dancers, norseated, could he discover Miss Molly. 

Startled at not finding her present, Hamlin searched anxiously for theMajor, only to assure himself of his absence also. Could they havereturned to the fort as early as this? If so, how did it happen theirguest was still present, happily enjoying herself? Of course she mightbe there under escort of some one else--Captain Barrett, possibly. Hewould ask the infantryman. 

"Have you seen Miss McDonald since supper?"

The soldier hesitated an instant, as though endeavoring to remember. 

"No, I ain't, now you speak of it. She went out with that kid overthere, and he came back alone. Don't believe he 's danced any since. The Major was here, though; Connors brought him a note a few minutesago, and he got his hat and went out. "

Hamlin drew a breath of relief. "Girl must have sent for him to takeher home, " he said. "Well, it 's time for me to turn in--good-night, old man. "

He tramped along the brightly illumined street, and out upon the darkroad leading up the bluff to the fort, his mind occupied with theevents of the evening, and those other incidents leading up to them. There was no doubt that Miss McDonald and her father had returned totheir home. But what could he do to assist her? The very knowledgethat she had voluntarily appealed to him, that she had come to himsecretly with her trouble, brought strange happiness. Moreover hisformer acquaintance with Mrs. Dupont gave him a clue to the mystery. Yet how was he going to unravel the threads, discover the motive, findout the various conspirators? What were they really after? Moneyprobably, but possibly revenge. What did the woman know which enabledher to wield such influence over McDonald? What was the trap theyproposed springing? The Sergeant felt that he could solve theseproblems if given an opportunity, but he was handicapped by hisposition; he could not leave his troop, could not meet or mingle withthe suspected parties; was tied, hand and foot, by army discipline. Hecould not even absent himself from the post without gaining specialpermission. He swore to himself over the hopelessness of thesituation, as he tramped through the blackness toward the guard-house. The sentinel glanced at his pass, scrutinizing it by the light of afire, and thrust the paper into his pocket. Hamlin advanced, and atthe corner saluted the officer of the day, who had just stepped out ofthe guard-house door. 

"Good evening, Sergeant, " the latter said genially. "Just in fromtown? I expect they are having some dance down there to-night. "

"Yes, sir, " hesitatingly, and then venturing the inquiry. "May I askif Major McDonald has returned to the post?"

"McDonald? No, " he glanced at his watch. "He had orders to go east toRipley on the stage. That was due out about an hour ago. "

"To Ripley? By stage?" the Sergeant repeated the words, dazed. "Why--why, what has become of Miss McDonald?"

The officer smiled, shaking his head. 

"I 'm sure I don't know, my man, " he returned carelessly. "Come backwith Barrett and his lady-love, likely. Why?" suddenly interested bythe expression on the other's face. "What's happened? Is thereanything wrong?"

CHAPTER XXII

A DEEPENING MYSTERY

Startled and bewildered as Hamlin was by this sudden revealment, he atonce comprehended the embarrassment of his own position. He could notconfess all he knew, certainly not the fact that the girl had met himsecretly and had vanished while he was endeavoring to turn aside Mrs. Dupont. He must protect her at all hazards. To gain time, andself-control, he replied with a question:

"Did not Connors drive them down, sir?"

"Yes, the four of them. "

"And Major McDonald knew then that he was ordered East?"

"No, the order came by telegram later. An orderly was sent down aboutten o'clock. But, see here, Sergeant, I am no Bureau of Information. If you have anything to report, make it brief. "

Hamlin glanced at the face of the other. He knew little about him, except that he had the reputation of being a capable officer. 

"I will, sir, " he responded quickly; "you may never have heard of theaffair, but I was with Miss McDonald during a little Indian trouble outon the trail a few months ago. "

The officer nodded. 

"I heard about that; Gaskins brought her in. "

"Well, ever since she has seemed grateful and friendly. You know howsome women are; well, she is that kind. To-night she came to me, because she did n't seem to know whom else to go to, and told me ofsome trouble she was having. I realize, Captain Kane, that it may seema bit strange to you that a young lady like Miss McDonald, an officer'sdaughter, would turn for help to an enlisted man, but I am telling youonly the truth, sir. You see, she got it into her head somehow that Iwas square, and--and, well, that I cared enough to help her. "

"Wait a minute, Sergeant, " broke in Kane, kindly, realizing the other'sembarrassment, and resting one hand on his sleeve. "You do not need toapologize for Miss McDonald. I know something of what is going on atthis post, although, damn me if I 've ever got on to the straightfacts. You mean that Dupont woman?"

"Yes, she 's concerned in the matter, but there are others also. "

"Why could n't the girl tell her father?"

"That is where the main trouble lies, Captain. Major McDonald seems tobe completely under the control of Mrs. Dupont. He is apparentlyafraid of her for some reason. That is what Miss Molly spoke to meabout. We were on the side porch at the hotel talking while thedancers were at supper--it was the only opportunity the girl had to getaway--and Mrs. Dupont and her husband came into the parlor--"

"Her husband? Good Lord, I thought her husband was dead. "

"He is n't. He 's a tin-horn gambler, known in the saloons as 'Reb, ' abig duffer, wearing a black beard. "

"All right, go on; I don't know him. "

"Well, I stepped into the room to keep the two apart, leaving the girlalone outside. We had a bit of talk before I got the room cleared, andwhen I went back to the porch, Miss Molly had gone. "

"Dropped over the railing to the ground. "

"That's what I thought at the time, sir, but what happened to her afterthat? She did n't return to the hotel; she was not at the dance hall, and has n't come back to the post. "

"The hell you say! Are you sure?"

"I am; I searched for her high and low before I left, and she could notget in here without passing the guard-house. "

Kane stared into the Sergeant's race a moment, and then out across theparade ground. A yellow light winked in the Colonel's office, occasionally blotted out by the passing figure of a sentry. Theofficer came to a prompt decision. 

"The 'old man' is over there yet, grubbing at some papers. Come onover, and tell him what you have told me. I believe the lass will turnup all right, but it does look rather queer. "

The Colonel and the Post Adjutant were in the little office, busy overa pile of papers. Both officers glanced up, resenting theinterruption, as Kane entered, Hamlin following. The former explainedthe situation briefly, while the commandant leaned back in his chair, his keen eyes studying the younger man. 

"Very well, Captain Kane, " he said shortly, as the officer's storyended. "We shall have to examine into this, of course, but willprobably discover the whole affair a false alarm. There is, atpresent, no necessity for alarming any others. Sergeant, kindlyexplain to me why Miss McDonald should have come to you in herdistress?"

Hamlin stepped forward, and told the story again in detail, answeringthe Colonel's questions frankly. 

"This, then, was the only time you have met since your arrival?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And this Mrs. Dupont? You have had a previous acquaintance with her?"

"Some years ago. "

"You consider her a dangerous woman?"

"I know her to be utterly unscrupulous, sir. I am prepared to statethat she is here under false pretences, claiming to be a niece of MajorMcDonald's. I do not know her real purpose, but am convinced it is anevil one. "

The Colonel shook his head doubtfully, glancing at the silent adjutant. 

"That remains to be proven, Sergeant. I have, of course, met the lady, and found her pleasant and agreeable as a companion. Deuced prettytoo; hey, Benson? Why do you say she masquerades as McDonald's niece?"

"Because her maiden name was Carson and the Major's sister married aman named Counts. "

"There might have been another marriage. Surely McDonald must know. "

"Miss Molly says not, Colonel. He has known nothing of his sister forover twenty years, and accepted this woman on her word. "

"Well, well! Interesting situation; hey, Benson? Like to get to thebottom myself. Damme if it don't sound like a novel. However, thething before us right now is to discover what has become of MissMcDonald. " He straightened up in his chair, then leaned across thetable. "Captain Kane, make a thorough examination of McDonald'squarters first. If the girl is not found there, detail two men toaccompany Sergeant Hamlin on a search of the town. "

"Very well, sir; come on, Sergeant. "

"Just a moment--if we find the trail leads beyond the town are weauthorized to continue?"

"Certainly, yes. Adjutant, write out the order. Anything more?"

"I should prefer two men of my own troop, sir, mounted. "

"Very well; see to it, Captain. "

The two men walked down past the dark row of officers' houses, theSergeant a step to the rear on the narrow cinder path. McDonald'squarters were as black as the others, and there was no response fromwithin when Kane rapped at the door. They tried the rear entrance withthe same result--the place was plainly unoccupied. 

"Pick out your men, Hamlin, " the Captain said sternly, "and I 'll callthe stable guard. "

Ten minutes later, fully equipped for field service, the three trooperscircled the guard-house and rode rapidly down the dark road toward theyellow lights of the town. The Sergeant explained briefly the cause ofthe expedition, and the two troopers, experienced soldiers, asked nounnecessary questions. Side by side the three men rode silently intothe town, and Hamlin swung down from his saddle at the door of thedance hall. With a word to the guard he crossed the floor to interceptMrs. Dupont. The latter regarded his approach with astonishment, herhand on Captain Barrett's blue sleeve. 

"Certainly not, " she replied rather sharply to his first question. "Iam not in charge of Miss McDonald. She is no doubt amusing herselfsomewhere; possibly lying down over at the hotel; she complained of aheadache earlier in the evening. Why do you come to me?"

"Yes, " broke in the Captain, "that is what I wish to know, Hamlin. Bywhat authority are you here?"

"The orders of the Colonel commanding, sir, " respectfully, yet notpermitting his glance to leave the woman's face. "You insist then, madam, that you know nothing of the girl's disappearance?"

"No!" defiantly, her cheeks red. 

"Nor of what has become of Connors, or your ranch manager?"

She shrugged her shoulders, endeavoring to smile. 

"The parties mentioned are of very small interest to me. "

"And Major McDonald, " he insisted, utterly ignoring the increasinganger of the officer beside her. "Possibly you were aware of hisdeparture?"

"Yes, " more deliberately; "he told me of his orders, and bade megood-bye later. So far as Connors is concerned, he was to have thecarriage here for us at two o'clock. Is that all, Mr. SergeantHamlin?"'

"You better make it all, " threatened the Captain belligerently, "beforeI lose my temper at this infernal impertinence. "

Hamlin surveyed the two calmly, confident that the woman knew more thanshe would tell, and utterly indifferent as to the other. 

"Very well, " he said quietly, "I will learn what I desire elsewhere. Ishall find Miss McDonald, and discover what has actually occurred. "

"My best wishes, I am sure, " and the lady patted the Captain's armgently. "We are losing this waltz. "

There was but one course for Hamlin to pursue. He had no trail tofollow, only a vague suspicion that these plotters were in some wayconcerned in the mysterious disappearance. Thus far, however, they hadleft behind no clue to their participation. Moreover he was seriouslyhandicapped by ignorance of any motive. Why should they desire to gainpossession of the girl? It could not be money, or the hope of ransom. What then? Was it some accident which had involved her in the toilsprepared for another? If so, were those unexpected orders for MajorMcDonald a part of the conspiracy, or had their receipt complicated theaffair? The Sergeant was a soldier, not a detective, and could onlyfollow a straight road in his investigation. He must circle widelyuntil he found some trail to follow as patiently as an Indian. Therewould be tracks left somewhere, if he could only discover them. Ifthis was a hasty occurrence, in any way an accident, something was sureto be left uncovered, some slip reveal the method. He would trace themovements of the father first, and then search the saloons and gamblingdens for the two men. Though unsuccessful with Mrs. Dupont, he knewhow to deal with such as they. 

The stage agent was routed out of bed and came to the door, revolver inhand, startled and angry. 

"Who?" he repeated. "Major McDonald? How the hell should I know?Some officer went out--yes; heavy set man with a mustache. I did n'tpay any attention to him; had government transportation. There weretwo other passengers, both men, ranchers, I reckon; none in the stationat all. What's that, Jane?"

A woman's voice spoke from out the darkness behind. 

"Was the soldier asking if Major McDonald went East on the coach, Sam?"

"Sure; what do you know about it?"

"Why, I was outside when they started, " she explained, "and the man inuniform was n't the Major. I know him by sight, for he 's been downhere a dozen times when I was at the desk. This fellow was about hissize, but dark and stoop-shouldered. "

"And the others?" asked Hamlin eagerly. 

"I did n't know either of them, only I noticed one had a black beard. "

"A very large, burly fellow?"

"No, I don't think so. I did n't pay special attention to any of them, only to wonder who the officer was, 'cause I never remembered seein'him here before at Dodge, but, as I recollect, the fellow with a beardwas rather undersized; had a shaggy buffalo-skin cap on. "

Plainly enough the man was not Dupont, and McDonald had not departed onthe stage, while some other, pretending to be he, possibly wearing hisclothes to further the deceit, had taken the seat reserved in thecoach. Baffled, bewildered by this unexpected discovery, the Sergeantswung back into his saddle, not knowing which way to turn. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE DEAD BODY

That both McDonald and his daughter were involved in this strangepuzzle was already clear. The disappearance of the one was asmysterious as that of the other. Whether the original conspiracy hadcentred about the Major, and Miss Molly had merely been drawn into thenet through accident, or whether both were destined as victims from thefirst, could not be determined by theory. Indeed the Sergeant couldevolve no theory, could discover no purpose in the outrage. Convincedthat Dupont and his wife were the moving spirits, he yet possessed nosatisfactory reason for charging them with the crime, for which therewas no apparent object. 

Nothing remained to be done but search the town, a blind search in thehope of uncovering some trail. That crime had been committed--eithermurder or abduction--was evident; the two had not dropped thus suddenlyout of sight without cause. Nor did it seem possible they could havebeen whisked away without leaving some trace behind. The town wasaccustomed to murder and sudden death; the echo of a revolver shotwould create no panic, awaken no alarm, and yet the place was small, and there was little likelihood that any deed of violence would passlong unnoticed. With a few words of instruction, and hastydescriptions of both Dupont and Connors, Hamlin sent his men down thestraggling street to drag out the occupants of shack and tent, ridinghimself to the blazing front of the "Poodle Dog. "

Late as the hour was, the saloon and the gambling rooms above were allcrowded. Hamlin plunged into the mass of men, pressing passage backand forth, his eyes searching the faces, while he eagerly questionedthose with whom he had any acquaintance. Few among these could recallto mind either "Reb" or his boon companion, and even those who didretained no recollection of having seen the two lately. The bartendersasserted that neither man had been there that night, and the dealersabove were equally positive. The city marshal, encountered outside, remembered Dupont, and had seen him at the hotel three hours before, but was positive the fellow had not been on the streets since. Connorshe did not know, but if the man was Major McDonald's driver, then hewas missing all right, for Captain Barrett had had to employ alivery-man to drive Mrs. Dupont back to the fort. No, there was noother lady with her; he was sure, for he had watched them get into thecarriage. 

The two troopers were no more fortunate in their results, but hadsucceeded in stirring up greater excitement during their exploration, several irate individuals, roughly aroused from sleep, exhibitingfighting propensities, which had cost one a blackened eye, and theother the loss of a tooth. Both, however, had enjoyed the occasion, and appeared anxious for more. Having exhausted the possibilities ofthe town, the soldiers procured lanterns, and, leaving the horsesbehind, began exploring the prairie. In this labor they were assistedby the marshal, and a few aroused citizens hastily impressed into aposse. The search was a thorough one, but the ground nearby was so cutup by hoofs and wheels as to yield no definite results. Hamlin, obsessed with the belief that whatever had occurred had been engineeredby Dupont, and recalling the fact that the man was once a ranchmansomewhere to the southward, jumped to the conclusion that the fellowwould naturally head in that direction, seeking familiar country inwhich to hide. With the two troopers he pushed on toward the river, choosing the upper ford as being the most likely choice of thefugitives. The trampled mud of the north bank exhibited fresh tracks, but none he could positively identify. However, a party on horsebackhad crossed within a few hours, and, without hesitation, he waded outinto the stream. 

The gray of dawn was in the sky as the three troopers, soaked to thewaist, crept up the south bank and studied the trail. Behind them theyellow lanterns still bobbed about between the river and town, butthere was already sufficient light to make visible the signs underfoot. Horsemen had climbed the bank, the hoof marks yet damp where water haddrained from dripping fetlocks, and had instantly broken into a lope. A moment's glance proved this to Hamlin as he crept back and forth, scrutinizing each hoof mark intently. 

"Five in the party, " he said soberly. "Three mustangs and two Americanhorses, cavalry shod. About three hours ahead of us. " He straightenedup, his glance peering into the gray mists. "I reckon it's likely ouroutfit, but we 'll never catch them on foot. They 'll be behind thesand-dunes before this. Before we go back, boys, we 'll see if theyleft the trail where it turns west. "

The three ran forward, paying little heed until they reached the edgeof the ravine. Here the beaten trail swerved sharply to the right. Fifty feet beyond, the marks of horses' hoofs appeared on the slopingbank, and Hamlin sprang down to where the marks disappeared around theedge of a large bowlder. His hand on the stone, he stopped suddenlywith quick indrawing of breath, staring down at a motionless figurelying almost at his feet. The man, roughly dressed, lay on his face, abullet wound showing above one ear, the back of his neck caked withblood. The Sergeant, mastering his first sense of horror, turned himover and gazed upon the ghastly face of Major McDonald. 

"My God, they've murdered him here!" he exclaimed. "Shot him down frombehind. Look, men. No; stand back, and don't muss up the tracks. There are foot-prints here--Indians, by heaven! Three of them Indians!"

"Some plainsmen wear moccasins. "

"They don't walk that way--toes in; and see this hair in McDonald'sfingers--that's Indian, sure. Here is where a horse fell, and sliddown the bank. Is n't that a bit of broken feather caught in the bush, Carroll? Bring it over here. "

The three bent over the object. 

"Well, what do you say? You men are both plainsmen. "

"Cheyenne, " returned Carroll promptly. "But what the hell are theydoing here?"

Hamlin shook his head. 

"It will require more than guessing to determine that, " he saidsternly. "And there is only one way to find out. That fellow was aCheyenne all right, and there were three of them and two whites in theparty--see here; the prints of five horses ridden, and one animal led. That will be the one McDonald had. They went straight up the oppositebank of the ravine. If they leave a trail like that we can ride afterthem full speed. "

Carroll had been bending over the dead officer and now glanced up. 

"There's sand just below, Sergeant, " he said. "That's why they are sodarn reckless here. "

"Of course; they'll hide in the dunes, and the sooner we 're after themthe better. Wade, you remain with the body; Carroll and I will returnto the fort and report. We 'll have to have more men--Wasson if I canget him--and equipment for a hard ride. Come on, Jack. "

They waded the river, and ran through the town, shouting theirdiscovery to the marshal and his posse as they passed. Twenty minuteslater Hamlin stood before the Colonel, hastily telling the story. Thelatter listened intently, gripping the arms of his chair. 

"Shot from behind, hey?" he ejaculated, "and his clothing stolen. Looks like a carefully planned affair, Sergeant; sending that fellowthrough to Ripley was expected to throw us off the track. That 's whythey were so careless covering their trail; expected to have severaldays' start. It is my notion they never intended to kill him; had arow of some kind, or else Mac tried to get away. Any trace of thegirl?"

"No; but she must have been there. "

"So I think; got mixed up in the affair some way, and they have beencompelled to carry her off to save themselves. Do you know why theywere after Mac?"

"No, sir. "

"Well, I do; he carried thirty thousand dollars. "

"What?"

"He was acting paymaster. The money came in from Wallace last evening, and he was ordered to take it to Ripley at once. "

Hamlin drew in his breath quickly in surprise. 

"Who knew about that, sir?"

"No one but the Adjutant, and Major McDonald--not even the orderly. "

The eyes of officer and soldier met. 

"Do you suppose he could have told _her_?" the former asked in suddensuspicion. 

"That would be my theory, sir. But it is useless to speculate. Wehave no proof, no means of forcing her to confess. The only thing forus to do is to trail those fugitives. I need another man--ascout--Wasson, if he can be spared--and rations for three days. "

The Colonel hesitated an instant, and then rose, placing a hand onHamlin's arm. 

"I 'll do it for Miss McDonald, but not for the money, " he said slowly. "I expect orders every hour for your troop, and Wasson is detailed forspecial service. But damn it, I 'll take the responsibility--go on, and run those devils down. "

Hamlin turned to the door; then wheeled about. 

"You know this man Dupont, Colonel?"

"Only by sight. "

"Any idea where he used to run cattle?"

"Wait a minute until I think. I heard McDonald telling about him onenight at the club, something Mrs. Dupont had let slip, but I did n'tpay much attention at the time. Seems to me, though, it was down onthe Canadian. No, I have it now--Buffalo Creek; runs into theCanadian. Know such a stream?"

"I 've heard of it; in west of the North Fork somewhere. "

"You think it was Dupont, then?"

"I have n't a doubt that he is in the affair, and that the outfit isheaded for that section. I don't know, sir, where those Indians camefrom, or how they happened to be up here, but I believe they belong toBlack Kettle's band of Cheyennes. His bunch is down below theCanadian, is it not, sir?"

"Yes. "

"Dupont must be friendly with them, and this coup has been planned forsome time. Last night was the chance they have been waiting for. Theonly mistake in their plans has been the early discovery because ofMiss Molly's disappearance. They have gone away careless, expectingtwo or three days' start, and they will only have a few hours. We 'llrun them down, with good luck, before they cross the Cimarron. Youhave no further instructions, sir?"

"No, nothing, Sergeant. You 're an old hand, and know your business, and there is no better scout on the plains than Sam Wasson. Good-bye, and good luck. "

CHAPTER XXIV

IN PURSUIT

The four men, heavily armed, and equipped for winter service, rode upthe bank of the ravine to the irregularity of plain beyond. The trail, leading directly south into the solitudes, was easily followed, andWasson, slightly in advance of the others, made no attempt to check hishorse, content to lean forward, his keen eyes marking every sign. Scarcely a word was exchanged, since Hamlin had explained what hadoccurred as they crossed the river. Hardly less interested than theSergeant, the sober-faced scout concentrated every energy on thepursuit, both men realizing the necessity of haste. Not only would thetrail be difficult to follow after they attained the sand belt, but, ifsnow fell, would be utterly blotted out. And the dull, murky skythreatened snow, the sharp wind having already veered to the northwest. All about stretched a dull, dead picture of desolation, a dun-coloredplain, unrelieved by vegetation, matching the skies above, extending inevery direction through weary leagues of dismal loneliness. Thesearching eye caught no relief from desolate sameness, drear monotony. Nowhere was there movement, or, any semblance of life. Behind, theland was broken by ravines, but in every other direction it stretchedlevel to the horizon, except that far off southward arose irregularridges of sand, barren, ugly blotches, colorless, and forever changingformation under the beating of a ceaseless wind. It was desert, acrosswhich not even a snake crawled, and no wing of migrating bird beat theleaden sky above. 

The marks of their horses' hoofs cutting sharply into the soil, toldaccurately the fugitives' rate of progress, and the pursuers sweptforward with caution, anxious to spare their mounts and to keep out ofvision themselves until nightfall. Their success depended largely onsurprise, and the confidence of those ahead that they were unpursued. Wasson expressed the situation exactly, as the four halted a moment atan unexpectedly-discovered water-hole. 

"I 'd think this yere plain trail was some Injun trick, boys, if I didn't know the reason fur it. 'T ain't Injun nature, but thar 's a whiteman ahead o' that outfit, an' he 's cock-sure that nobody 's chasin'him yet. He 's figurin' on two or three days' get-a-way, and so don'tcare a tinker's dam 'bout these yere marks. Once in the sand, an' tharwon't be no trail anyhow. It's some kintry out thar, an' it would belike huntin' a needle in a haystack to try an' find them fellars afterter-night. This is my idea--we'll just mosey along slow, savin' thehosses an' keeping back out o' sight till dark. Them fellars ain'tmany hours ahead, an' are likely ter make camp furst part o' ther nightanyhow. They 'll feel safe onct hid in them sand-hills, an' if theydon't git no sight of us, most likely they won't even post no guard. Thet 's when we want ter dig in the spurs. Ain't that about the rightprogram, Sergeant?"

Burning with impatience as Hamlin was, fearful that every additionalmoment of delay might increase the girl's danger, he was yet soldierand plainsman enough to realize the wisdom of the old scout. Therewere at least four men in the party pursued, two of them Indianwarriors, the two whites, desperate characters. Without doubt theywould put up a fierce fight, or, if warned in time, could easilyscatter and disappear. 

"Of course you are right, Sam, " he replied promptly. "Only I am soafraid of what may happen to Miss Molly. "

"Forget it. Thar's nuthin' goin' ter happen to her while the bunch ison the move. If that outfit was all Injun, or all white, maybe tharmight. But the way it is they'll never agree on nuthin', 'cept how togit away. 'T ain't likely they ever meant ter kill the Major, 'er takethe girl erlong. Them things just naturally happened, an' now they 'rescared stiff. It 'll take a day er two for 'em to make up their mindswhat to do. "

"What do you imagine they will decide, Sam?"

"Wall, thet 's all guesswork. But I reckon I know what I 'd do if Iwas in thet sort o' fix an' bein' chased fer murder an' robbery. I 'dtake the easy way; make fer the nearest Injun village, an' leave thegirl thar. "

"You mean Black Kettle's camp?"

"I reckon; he 's down thar on the Canadian somewhar. You kin bet thosefellars know whar, an' thet's whut they 're aimin' for, unless thisyere Dupont has some hidin' out scheme of his own. Whar did you say heranched?"

"Buffalo Creek. "

"Thet's the same neighborhood; must've been in cahoots with those reddevils to have ever run cattle in thar. We 've got to head 'em offafore they git down into that kintry, er we won't have no scalps to goback home with. Let's mosey erlong, boys. "

The day grew dark and murky as they moved steadily forward, the windblew cold from out the northwest, the heavy canopy of cloud settledlower in a frosty fog, which gradually obscured the landscape. Thismist became so thick that the men could scarcely see a hundred yards inany direction, and Hamlin placed a pocket compass on his saddle-pommel. The trail was less distinct as they traversed a wide streak of alkali, but what few signs remained convinced Wasson that the fugitives werestill together, and riding southward. Under concealment of the fog hisprevious caution relaxed, and he led the way at a steady trot, onlyoccasionally drawing rein to make certain there was no division of theparty ahead. The alkali powdered them from head to foot, clinging tothe horses' hides, reddening and blinding the eyes, poisoning the lipsdry and parched with thirst. The two troopers swore grimly, but theSergeant and scout rode in silence, bent low over their pommels, eyesstrained into the mist ahead. It was not yet dark when they rode inbetween the first sand-dunes, and Wasson, pulling his horse up short, checked the others with uplifted hand. 

"Thar 'll be a camp here soon, " he said, swinging down from the saddle, and studying the ground. "The wind has 'bout blotted it all out, butyou kin see yere back o' this ridge whar they turned in, an' they waswalkin' their horses. Gittin' pretty tired, I reckon. We might aswell stop yere too, Sergeant, an' eat some cold grub. You two menspread her out, an' rub down the hosses, while Hamlin an' I poke abouta bit. Better find out all we kin, 'Brick, ' 'fore it gits dark. "

He started forward on the faint trail, his rifle in the hollow of hisarm, and the Sergeant ranged up beside him. The sand was to theirankles, and off the ridge summit the wind whirled the sharp grit intotheir faces. 

"What's comin', Sam; a storm?"

"Snow, " answered the scout shortly, "a blizzard of it, er I lose myguess. 'Fore midnight yer won't be able ter see yer hand afore yerface. I 've ben out yere in them things a fore, an' they're sure hell. If we don't git sight o' thet outfit mighty soon, 't ain't likely weever will. I 've been expectin' that wind to shift nor'east allday--then we'll get it. " He got down on his knees, endeavoring todecipher some faint marks on the sand. "Two of 'em dismounted yere, anInjun an' a white--a big feller by his hoof prints--an' they went onleadin' their hosses. Goin' into camp, I reckon--sure, here's the spotnow. Well, I 'll be damned!"

Both men stood staring--under protection of a sand ridge was a littleblackened space where some mesquite chips had been burned, and allabout it freshly trampled sand, and slight impressions where men hadoutstretched themselves. Almost at Wasson's feet fluttered a pinkribbon, and beyond the fire circle lay the body of a man, face up tothe sky. It was Connors, a ghastly bullet hole between his eyes, onecheek caked black with blood. The Sergeant sprang across, and bentover the motionless form. 

"Pockets turned inside out, " he said, glancing back. "The poor devil!"

"Had quite a row here, " returned the scout. "That stain over thar isblood, an' it never come from him, fer he died whar he fell. Mostlikely he shot furst, er used a knife. The girl's with 'em anyhow; Ireckon this yere was her ribbon; that footprint is sure. "

He stirred up the scattered ashes, and then passed over and looked atthe dead man. 

"What do yer think, Sergeant?"

"They stopped here to eat, maybe five hours ago, " pushing the ashesabout with his toe. "The fire has been out that long. Then they gotinto a quarrel--Connors and Dupont--for he was shot with a Colt '45';no Indian ever did that. Then they struck out again with two ledhorses. I should say they were three or four hours ahead, travellingslow. "

"Good enough, " and Wasson patted his arm. "You 're a plainsman allright, 'Brick. ' You kin sure read signs. Thet 's just 'bout the wholestory, as I make it. Nuthin' fer us to do but snatch a bite an' go on. Our hosses 're fresher 'n theirs. No sense our stoppin' to buryConnors; he ain't worth it, an' the birds 'll take care o' him. Theoutfit was still a headin' south--see!"

There could be no doubt of this, as the shelter of the sand ridge hadpreserved a plain trail, although a few yards beyond, the sweeping windhad already almost obliterated every sign of passage. The four men ateheartily of their cold provender, discussing the situation in a fewbrief sentences. Wasson argued that Dupont was heading for some Indianwinter encampment, thinking to shift responsibility for the crime uponthe savages, thus permitting him to return once more to civilization, but Hamlin clung to his original theory of a hide-out upon Dupont's oldcattle-range, and that a purpose other than the mere robbery ofMcDonald was in view. All alike, however, were convinced that thefugitives were seeking the wild bluffs of the Canadian River forconcealment. 

It was not yet dark when they again picked up the trail, rode aroundthe dead body of Connors, and pushed forward into the maze of sand. For an hour the advance was without incident, the scout in the lead noteven dismounting, his keen eyes picking up the faint "sign" unerringly. Then darkness shut down, the lowering bank of clouds completelyblotting the stars, although the white glisten of the sand under footyielded a slight guidance. Up to this time there had been no deviationin direction, and now when the trail could be no longer distinguished, the little party decided on riding straight southward until they struckthe Cimarron. An hour or two later the moon arose, hardly visible andyet brightening the cloud canopy, so that the riders could see eachother and proceed more rapidly. Suddenly Wasson lifted his hand, andturned his face up to the sky. 

"Snow, " he announced soberly. "Thought I felt it afore, and the wind's changed. "

Hamlin turned in the saddle, feeling already the sharp sting of snowpellets on his face. Before he could even answer the air was full ofwhiteness, a fierce gust of wind hurling the flying particles againstthem. In another instant they were in the very heart of the storm, almost hurled forward by the force of the wind, and blinded by the icydeluge. The pelting of the hail startled the horses, and in spite ofevery effort of the riders, they drifted to the right, tails to thestorm. The swift change was magical. The sharp particles of icy snowseemed to swirl upon them from every direction, sucking their verybreath, bewildering them, robbing them of all sense of direction. Within two minutes the men found it impossible to penetrate the wintryshroud except for a few feet ahead of them. 

The Sergeant knew what it meant, for he had had experience of theseplains storms before. 

"Halt!" he cried, his voice barely audible in the blast. "Close up, men; come here to me--lively now? That you, Wade? Wasson; oh, allright, Sam. Here, pass that lariat back; now get a grip on it, everyone of you, and hold to it for your lives. Let me take the lead, Sam;we 'll have to run by compass. Now then, are you ready?"

The lariat rope, tied to Hamlin's pommel, straightened out and wasgrasped desperately by the gloved hands of the men behind. TheSergeant, shading his eyes, half smothered in the blast, could seemerely ill-defined shadows. 

"All caught?"

The answers were inaudible. 

"For the Lord's sake, speak up; answer now--Wasson. "

"Here. "

"Wade. "

"Here. "

"Carroll. "

"Here. "

"Good; now come on after me. "

He drove his horse forward, head bent low over the compass, one armflung up across his mouth to prevent inhaling the icy air. He felt thetug of the line; heard the labored breathing of the next horse behind, but saw nothing except that wall of swirling snow pellets hurledagainst him by a pitiless wind, fairly lacerating the flesh. It wasfreezing cold; already he felt numb, exhausted, heavy-eyed. The airseemed to penetrate his clothing, and prick the skin as with a thousandneedles. The thought came that if he remained in the saddle he wouldfreeze stiff. Again he turned, and sent the voice of command down thestruggling line:

"Dismount; wind the rope around your pommels. Sam. How far is it tothe Cimarron?"

"More 'n twenty miles. "

"All right! We 've got to make it, boys, " forcing a note ofcheerfulness into his voice. "Hang on to the bit even if you drop. Imay drift to the west, but that won't lose us much. Come on, now. "

"Hamlin, let me break trail. "

"We 'll take it turn about, Sam. It 'll be worse in an hour than it isnow. All ready, boys. "

Blinded by the sleet, staggering to the fierce pummelling of the wind, yet clinging desperately to his horse's bit, the Sergeant struggledforward in the swirl of the storm. 

CHAPTER XXV

IN THE BLIZZARD

There was no cessation, no abatement. Across a thousand miles of plainthe ice-laden wind swept down upon them with the relentless fury of ahurricane, driving the snow crystals into their faces, buffeting themmercilessly, numbing their bodies, and blinding their eyes. In thatawful grip they looked upon Death, but struggled on, as real men mustuntil they fall. Breathing was agony; every step became a torture;fingers grasping the horses' bits grew stiff and deadened by frost;they reeled like drunken men, sightless in the mad swirl, deafened bythe pounding of the blast against their ears. All consciousness leftthem; only dumb instinct kept them battling for life, staggeringforward, foot by foot, odd phantasies of imagination beginning tobeckon. In their weakness, delirium gripped their half-mad brains, yielding new strength to fight the snow fiend. Aching in every joint, trembling from fatigue, they dare not rest an instant. The wind, veering more to the east, lashed their faces like a whip. Theycrouched behind the horses to keep out of the sting of it, crunchingthe snow, now in deep drifts, under their half-frozen feet. 

Wade, a young fellow not overly strong, fell twice. They placed him inthe centre, with Carroll bringing up the rear. Again he went down, face buried in the snow, crying like a babe. Desperately the otherslashed him into his saddle, binding a blanket about him, and wentgrimly staggering on, his limp figure rocking above them. Hoursucceeded hour in ceaseless struggle; no one knew where they were, onlythe leader staggered on, his eyes upon the compass. Wasson and Hamlintook their turns tramping a trail, the snow often to their knees. Theyhad stopped speaking, stopped thinking even. All their movementsbecame automatic, instinctive, the result of iron discipline. Theyrealized the only hope--attainment of the Cimarron bluffs. There wasno shelter there in the open, to either man or horse; the sole choiceleft was to struggle on, or lie down and die. The last was likely tobe the end of it, but while a drop of blood ran red and warm in theirveins they would keep their feet and fight. 

Carroll's horse stumbled and rolled, catching the numbed trooper underhis weight. The jerk on the lariat flung Wade out of the saddle, dangling head downward. With stiffened fingers, scarcely comprehendingwhat they were about, the Sergeant and Wasson came to the rescue, helped the frightened horse struggle to its feet, and, totally blindedby the fury of the storm which now beat fairly in their eyes, graspedthe dangling body, swaying back and forth as the startled animalplunged in terror. It was a corpse they gripped, already stiff withcold, the eyes wide-open and staring. Carroll, bruised and limping, came to their help, groaning with pain, and the three men togethermanaged to lift the dead weight to the horse's back, and to bind itsafely with the turn of a rope. Then, breathless from exhaustion, crouching behind the animals, bunched helplessly together, the howl ofthe wind like the scream of lost souls, the three men looked into eachother's faces. 

"I reckon Jim died without ever knowin' it, " said the scout, breakingagain the film of ice over his eyes, and thrashing his arms. "I allersheard tell it was an easy way o' goin'. Looks to me he was better offthan we are just now. Hurt much, Carroll?"

"Crunched my leg mighty bad; can't bear no weight on it. 'T was darnnear froze stiff before; thet 's why I could n't get out o' the wayquick. "

"Sure; well, ye 'll have ter ride, then. We 'll take the blanket offJim; he won't need it no more. 'Brick' an' I kin hoof it yetawhile--hey, 'Brick'?"

Hamlin lifted his head from the shelter of his horse's mane. 

"I reckon I can make my feet move, " he asserted doubtfully, "but theydon't feel as though there was any life left in them. " He stamped onthe snow. "How long do these blizzards generally last, Sam?"

"Blow themselves out in about three days. "

"Three days? God! We can never live it out here. "

His eyes ranged over the dim outline of Wade stretched across thesaddle, powdered with snow, rested an instant upon Carroll who had sunkback upon the ground, nursing his injured limb, and then sought theface of Wasson. 

"What the hell can we do?"

"Go on; thet's all of it; go on till we drop, lad. Come, 'Brick, ' myboy, " and the scout gripped the Sergeant's shoulder, "you 're not thekind to lie down. We 've been in worse boxes than this and pulled out. It 's up to you and me to make good. Let's crunch some hard-tack andgo on, afore the whole three of us freeze stiff. "

The Sergeant thrust out his hand. 

"That isn't what's taken the nerve out of me, Sam, " he said soberly. "It's thinking of the girl out in all this with those devils. "

"Likely as not she ain't, " returned the other, tramping the snow underhis feet. "I 've been thinkin' 'bout thet too. Thet outfit must hevhad six hours the start o' us, didn't they?"

Hamlin nodded. 

"Well, then, they could n't a ben far from the Cimarron when the stormcome. They 'd be safe enough under the bluffs; have wood fer a fire, and lay thar mighty comfortable. That's whar them bucks are, allright. Why, damn it, man, we 've got to get through. 'T ain't justour fool lives that's at stake. Brace up!"

"How far have we come?"

"A good ten miles, an' the compass has kep' us straight. "

They drew in closer together, and munched a hard cracker apiece, occasionally exchanging a muttered word or two, thrashing their limbsabout to keep up circulation, and dampening their lips with snow. Theywere but dim, spectral shapes in the darkness, the air filled withcrystal pellets, swept about by a merciless wind, the horses standingtails to the storm and heads drooping. In spite of the lightrefraction of the snow the eyes could scarcely see two yards awaythrough the smother. Above, about, the ceaseless wind howled, its icybreath chilling to the bone. Carroll clambered stiffly into hissaddle, crying and swearing from weakness and pain. The others, stumbling about in the deep snow, which had drifted around them duringthe brief halt, stripped the blanket from Wade's dead body, and tuckedit in about Carroll as best they could. 

"Now keep kicking and thrashing around, George, " ordered the Sergeantsternly. "For God's sake, don't go to sleep, or you 'll be where Jimis. We 'll haul you out of this, old man. Sam, you take the rear, andhit Carroll a whack every few minutes; I'll break trail. Forward! now. "

They plunged into it, ploughing a way through the drifts, the reluctanthorses dragging back at first, and drifting before the fierce sweep ofthe wind, in spite of every effort at guidance. It was an awfuljourney, every step torture, but Hamlin bent to it, clinging grimly tothe bit of his animal, his other arm protecting his eyes from the stingof the wind. Behind, Wasson wielded a quirt, careless whether its lashstruck the horse's flank or Carroll. And across a thousand miles ofsnow-covered plain, the storm howled down upon them in redoubled fury, blinding their eyes, making them stagger helplessly before its blasts. 

They were still moving, now like snails, when the pale sickly dawncame, revealing inch by inch the dread desolation, stretching white andghastly in a slowly widening circle. The exhausted, struggling men, more nearly dead than alive from their ceaseless toil, had to break thefilm of ice from their eyes to perceive their surroundings. Even thenthey saw nothing but the bare, snow-draped plain, the air full ofswirling flakes. There was nothing to guide them, no mark ofidentification; merely lorn barrenness in the midst of which theywandered, dragging their half-frozen horses. The dead body of Wade hadstiffened into grotesque shape, head and feet dangling, shrouded inclinging snow, Carroll had fallen forward across his saddle pommel, too weak to sit erect, but held by the taut blanket, and gripping hishorse's ice-covered mane. Wasson was ahead now, doggedly crunching apath with his feet, and Hamlin staggered along behind. 

Suddenly some awakened instinct in the numbed brain of the scout toldhim of a change in their surroundings. He felt rather than saw thedifference. They had crossed the sand belt, and the contour of theprairie was rising. Then the Cimarron was near! Even as theconviction took shape, the ghostly outline of a small elevation loomedthrough the murk. He stared at it scarce believing, imagining adelusion, and then sent his cracked voice back in a shout on the wind. 

"We 're thar, 'Brick'! My God, lad, here 's the Cimarron!"

He wheeled about, shading his mouth, so as to make the words carrythrough the storm. 

"Do you hear? We're within a half mile o' the river. Stir Carroll up!Beat the life inter him! There 's shelter and fire comin'!"

As though startled by some electric shock, Hamlin sprang forward, hislimbs strengthening in response to fresh hope, ploughed through thesnow to Carroll's side, and shook and slapped the fellow intosemi-consciousness. 

"We 're at the river, George!" he cried, jerking up the dangling head. "Wake up, man! Wake up! Do you hear? We 'll have a fire in tenminutes!"

The man made a desperate effort, bracing his hands on the horse's neckand staring at his tormentor with dull, unseeing eyes. 

"Oh, go to hell!" he muttered, and went down again. 

Hamlin struck him twice, his chilled hand tingling to the blow, but theinert figure never moved. 

"No use, Sam. We 've got to get on, and thaw him out. Get up there, you pony!"

The ghostly shape of the hill was to their right, and they circled itsbase almost waist-deep in drift. This brought the wind directly intotheir faces, and the horses balked, dragging back and compelling bothmen to beat them into submission. Wasson was jerking at the bit, hisback turned so that he could see nothing ahead, but Hamlin, lashing therear animal with his quirt, still faced the mound, a mere dim shadowthrough the mists of snow. He saw the flash of yellow flame thatleaped from its summit, heard the sharp report of a gun, and saw Wassoncrumble up, and go down, still clinging to his horse's rein. It cameso suddenly, so unexpectedly, that the single living man left scarcelyrealized what had happened. Yet dazed as he was, some swift impulseflung him, headlong, into the snow behind his pony, and even as hefell, his numbed fingers gripped for the revolver at his hip. Thehidden marksman shot twice, evidently discerning only dim outlines atwhich to aim; the red flame of discharge cut the gloom like a knife. One ball hurtled past Hamlin's head; the other found billet in Wade'shorse, and the stricken creature toppled over, bearing its dead burdenwith him. The Sergeant ripped off his glove, found the trigger withhis half-frozen fingers, and fired twice. Then, with an oath, heleaped madly to his feet, and dashed straight at the silent hill. 

CHAPTER XXVI

UNSEEN DANGER

Once he paused, blinded by the snow, flung up his arm, and fired, imagining he saw the dim shape of a man on the ridge summit. There wasno return shot, no visible movement. Reckless, mad with rage, hesprang up the wind-swept side, and reached the crest. It was deserted, except for tracks already nearly obliterated by the fierce wind. Helpless, baffled, the Sergeant stared about him into the drivingflakes, his ungloved, stiffening hand gripping the cold butt of hisColt, ready for any emergency. Nothing but vacancy and silenceencompassed him. At his feet the snow was still trampled; he could seewhere the man had kneeled to fire; where he had run down the oppositeside of the hill. There had been only one--a white man from theimprint--and he had fled south, vanishing in the smother. 

It required an effort for the Sergeant to recover, to realize his trueposition, and the meaning of this mysterious attack. He was no longernumb with cold or staggering from weakness. The excitement had sentthe hot blood pulsing through his veins; had brought back to his heartthe fighting instinct. Every desire urged him forward, clamoring forrevenge, but the aroused sense of a plainsman held him motionless, staring about, listening for any sound. Behind him, down there in thehollow, were huddled the horses of his outfit, scarcely distinguishablefrom where he stood. If he should venture farther off, he might neverbe able to find a way back again. Even in the gray light of dawn hecould see nothing distinctly a dozen yards distant. And Wasson had thecompass. This was the thought which brought him tramping back throughthe drifts--Wasson! Wade was dead, Carroll little better, but thescout might have been only slightly wounded. He waded through the snowto where the man lay, face downward, his hand still gripping the rein. Before Hamlin turned him over, he saw the jagged wound and knew deathhad been instantaneous. He stared down at the white face, alreadypowdered with snow; then glared about into the murky distances, revolver ready for action, every nerve throbbing. God! If he ever metthe murderer! Then swift reaction came, and he buried his eyes on theneck of the nearest horse, and his body shook with half-suppressedsobs. The whole horror of it gripped him in that instant, broke hisiron will, and left him weak as a child. 

But the mood did not last. Little by little he gained control, stoodup again in the snow, and began to think. He was a man, and must do aman's work. With an oath he forced himself to act; reloaded hisrevolver, thrust it back into the holster at his hip, and, with oneparting glance at poor Sam, ploughed across through the drifts toCarroll. He realized now his duty, the thing he must strive toaccomplish. Wade and Wasson were gone; no human effort could aid them, but Carroll lived, and might be saved. And it was for him alone now toserve Molly. The sudden comprehension of all this stung like the lashof a whip, transformed him again into a fighter, a soldier of the sortwho refuses to acknowledge defeat. His eyes darkened, his lips pressedtogether in a straight line. 

Carroll lay helpless, inert, his head hanging down against the neck ofhis horse. The Sergeant jerked him erect, roughly beating him intoconsciousness; nor did he desist until the fellow's eyes opened in adull stare. 

"I 'll pound the life out of you unless you brace up, George, " hemuttered. "That 's right--get mad if you want to. It will do yougood. Wait until I get that quirt; that will set your blood moving. No! Wake up! Die, nothing! See here, man, there 's the river justahead. "

He picked up his glove, undid the reins from Wasson's stiffenedfingers, and urged the horses forward. Carroll lurched drunkenly inthe saddle, yet retained sufficient life to cling to the pommel, andthus the outfit plunged blindly forward into the storm, leaving thedead men where they lay. There was nothing else to do; Hamlin's heartchoked him as he ploughed his way past, but he had no strength to liftthose heavy bodies. Every ounce of power must be conserved for thepreservation of life. Little as he could see through the snow blaststhere was but one means of passage, that along the narrow rift betweenthe ridges. The snow lay deep here, but they floundered ahead, barelyable to surmount the drifts, until suddenly they emerged upon an openspace, sheltered somewhat by the low hills and swept clean by the wind. Directly beneath, down a wide cleft in the bank, dimly visible, appeared the welcome waters of the Cimarron. The stream was but partlyfrozen over, the dark current flowing in odd contrast between the banksof ice and snow. 

The Sergeant halted, examining his surroundings cautiously, expectingevery instant to be fired upon by some unseen foe. The violence of thestorm prevented his seeing beyond a few yards, and the whirling snowcrystals blinded him as he faced the fury of the wind sweeping down thevalley. Nothing met his gaze; no sound reached his ears; about him wasdesolation, unbroken whiteness. Apparently they were alone in all thatintense dreariness of snow. The solemn loneliness of it--the dark, silently flowing river, the dun sky, the wide, white expanse of plain, the mad violence of the storm beating against him--brought to him afeeling of helplessness. He was a mere atom, struggling alone againstNature's wild mood. Then the feeling clutched him that he was notalone; that from somewhere amid those barren wastes hostile eyeswatched, skulking murderers sought his life. Yet there was no sign ofany presence. He could not stand there and die, nor permit Carroll tofreeze in his saddle. It would be better to take a chance; perhaps theassassins had fled, believing their work accomplished; perhaps they hadbecome confused by the storm. 

Foot by foot, feeling his passage, he advanced down the gully, fairlydragging his own horse after him. Behind, held by the straininglariat, lurched the others, the soldier swaying on the back of thelast, swearing and laughing in delirium, clutching at snowflakes withhis hands. At the end of the ravine, under shelter of the bank, Hamlintrampled back the snow, herding the animals close, so as to gain thewarmth of their bodies. Here they were well protected from the cruellash of the wind and the shower of snow which blew over them anddrifted higher and higher in the open space beyond. Workingfeverishly, the blood again circulating freely through his veins, theSergeant hastily dragged blankets from the pack, and spread them on theground, depositing Carroll upon them. Then he set about vigorouslyrubbing the soldier's exposed flesh with snow. The smart of it, together with the roughness of handling, aroused the latter fromlethargy, but Hamlin, ignoring his resentment, gripped the fellow withhands of iron, never ceasing his violent ministrations until hisswearing ended in silence. Then he wrapped him tightly in theblankets, and stood himself erect, glowing from the exercise. Carrollglared up at him angrily out of red-rimmed eyes. 

"I 'll get you for that, you big boob!" he shouted, striving to releasehis arms from the clinging blankets. "You wait! I 'll get you!"

"Hush up, George, and go to sleep, " the other retorted, poking theshapeless body with his foot, his thoughts already elsewhere. "Don'tbe a fool. I 'll get a fire if I can, and something hot into you. Within an hour you 'll be a man again. Now see here--stop that! Doyou hear? You lie still right where you are, Carroll, until I comeback, or I 'll kick your ribs in!" He bent down menacingly, scowlinginto the upturned face. "Will you mind, or shall I have to hand youone?"

Carroll shrank back like a whipped child, his lips muttering somethingindistinguishable. The Sergeant, satisfied, turned and flounderedthrough the drifts to the bank of the stream. He was alert andfearful, yet determined. No matter what danger of discovery mightthreaten, he must build a fire to save Carroll's life. The ragingstorm was not over with; there was no apparent cessation of violence inthe blasts of the icy wind, and the snow swept about him in blindingsheets. It would continue all day, all another night, perhaps, andthey could never live through without food and warmth. He realized therisk fully, his gloved hand gripping the butt of his revolver, as hestared up and down the snow-draped bluffs. He wished he had picked upWasson's rifle. Who was it that had shot them up, anyhow? The verymystery added to the dread. Could it have been Dupont? There was noother conception possible, yet it seemed like a miracle that they couldhave kept so close on the fellow's trail all night long through thestorm. Yet who else would open fire at sight? Who else, indeed, wouldbe in this God-forsaken country? And whoever it was, where had hegone? How had he disappeared so suddenly and completely? He could notbe far away, that was a certainty. No plainsman would attempt to fordthat icy stream, nor desert the shelter of these bluffs in face of thestorm. It would be suicidal. And if Dupont and his Indians were closeat hand, Miss McDonald would be with them. He had had no time in whichto reason this out before, but now the swift realization of the closeproximity of the girl came to him like an electric shock. Whatever theimmediate danger he must thaw out Carroll, and thus be free himself. 

He could look back to where the weary horses huddled beneath the bank, grouped about the man so helplessly swaddled in blankets on the ground. They were dim, pitiable objects, barely discernible through the flyingscud, yet Hamlin was quick to perceive the advantage of theirposition--the overhanging bluff was complete protection from any attackexcept along the open bank of the river. Two armed men could defendthe spot against odds. And below, a hundred yards away, perhaps--itwas hard to judge through that smother--the bare limbs of severalstunted cottonwoods waved dismally against the gray sky. Hesitating, his eyes searching the barrenness above to where the stream bentnorthward and disappeared, he turned at last and tramped downward alongthe edge of the stream. Across stretched the level, white prairie, beaten and obscured by the storm, while to his left arose the steep, bare bluff, swept clear by the wind, revealing its ugliness through thehaze of snow. Not in all the expanse was there visible a moving objectnor track of any kind. He was alone, in the midst of indescribabledesolation--a cold, dead, dreary landscape. 

He came to the little patch of forest growth, a dozen gaunt, nakedtrees at the river's edge, stunted, two of them already toppling overthe bank, apparently undermined by the water, threatening to fallbefore each blast that smote them. Hoping to discover some splintersfor a fire, Hamlin kicked a clear space in the snow, yet kept his facealways toward the bluff, his eyes vigilantly searching for any skulkingfigure. Silent as those desert surroundings appeared, the Sergeantknew he was not alone. He had a feeling that he was being watched, spied upon; that somewhere near at hand, crouching in that solitude, the eyes of murder followed his every movement. Suddenly hestraightened up, staring at the bluff nearly opposite where he stood. Was it a dream, an illusion, or was that actually the front of a cabinat the base of the bank? He could not believe it possible, nor couldhe be sure. If so, then it consisted merely of a room excavated in theside of the hill, the opening closed in by cottonwood logs. It in noway extended outward beyond the contour of the bank, and was soplastered with snow as to be almost indistinguishable a dozen stepsaway. Yet those were logs, regularly laid, beyond a doubt; he wascertain he detected now the dim outlines of a door, and a smooth woodenshutter, to which the snow refused to cling, the size and shape of asmall window. His heart throbbing with excitement, the Sergeantslipped in against the bluff for protection, moving cautiously closeruntil he convinced himself of the reality of his strange discovery byfeeling the rough bark of the logs. It was a form of habitation ofsome kind beyond question; apparently unoccupied, for there were notracks in the snow without, and no smoke of a fire visible anywhere. 

CHAPTER XXVII

HUGHES' STORY

Hamlin thrust his glove into his belt, drew forth his revolver, andgripped its stock with bare hand. This odd, hidden dwelling might bedeserted, a mere empty shack, but he could not disconnect it in hismind from that murderous attack made upon their little party two hoursbefore. Why was it here in the heart of this desert? Why built withsuch evident intent of concealment? But for what had occurred on theplateau above, his suspicions would never have been aroused. This wasalready becoming a cattle country; adventurous Texans, seeking freerange and abundant water, had advanced along all these prominentstreams with their grazing herds of long-horns. Little by little theyhad gained precarious foothold on the Indian domains, slowly forcingthe savages westward. The struggle had been continuous for years, andthe final result inevitable. Yet this year the story had been adifferent one, for the united tribes had swept the invading stockmenback, had butchered their cattle, and once again roamed these plains asmasters. Hamlin knew this; he had met and talked with those drivenout, and he was aware that even now Black Kettle's winter camp ofhostiles was not far away. This hut might, of course, be the desertedsite of some old cow camp, some outrider's shack, but--the fellow whofired on them! He was a reality--a dangerous reality--and he washiding somewhere close at hand. 

The Sergeant stole along the front to the door, listening intently forany warning sound from either without or within. Every nerve was onedge; all else forgotten except the intensity of the moment. He couldperceive nothing to alarm him, no evidence of any presence inside. Slowly, noiselessly, his Colt poised for instant action, he lifted thewooden latch, and permitted the door to swing slightly ajar, yielding aglimpse within. There was light from above, flittering dimly throughsome crevice in the bluff, and the darker shadows were reddened by thecheery glow of a fireplace directly opposite, although where the smokedisappeared was not at first evident. Hamlin perceived these featuresat a glance, standing motionless. His quick eyes visioned the wholeinterior--a rude table and bench, a rifle leaning in one corner, asaddle and trappings hanging against the wall; a broad-brimmed hat onthe floor, a pile of skins beyond. There was an appearance of neatnessalso, the floor swept, the table unlittered. Yet he scarcely realizedthese details at the time so closely was his whole attention centred onthe figure of a man. The fellow occupied a stool before the fireplace, and was bending slightly forward, staring down at the red embers, unconscious of the intruder. He was a thin-chested, unkempt individualwith long hair, and shaggy whiskers, both iron gray. The side of hisface and neck had a sallow look, while his nose was prominent. TheSergeant surveyed him a moment, his cocked revolver covering themotionless figure, his lips set grimly. Then he stepped within, andclosed the door. 

[Illustration: His Colt poised for instant action, he lifted the woodenlatch. ]

At the slight sound the other leaped to his feet, overturning thestool, and whirled about swiftly, his right hand dropping to his belt. 

"That will do, friend!" Hamlin's voice rang stern. 

"Stand as you are--your gun is lying on the bench yonder. Rathercareless of you in this country. No, I would n't risk it if I was you;this is a hair trigger. "

The fellow stared helpless into the Sergeant's gray eyes. 

"Who--who the hell are you?" he managed to articulate hoarsely, "a--asoldier?"

Hamlin nodded, willing enough to let the other talk. 

"You 're--you 're not one o' Le Fevre's outfit?"

"Whose?"

"Gene Le Fevre--the damn skunk; you know him?"

Startled as he was, the Sergeant held himself firm, and laughed. 

"I reckon there is n't any one by that name a friend o' mine, " he saidcoolly. "So you 're free to relieve your feelings as far as I 'mconcerned. Were you expecting that gent along this trail?"

"Yes, I was, an' 'twa'n't no pleasant little reception I 'lowed to givehim neither. Say! Would n't yer just as soon lower thet shootin'iron? We ain't got no call to quarrel so fur as I kin see. "

"Maybe not, stranger, " and Hamlin leaned back against the table, lowering his weapon slightly, as he glanced watchfully about the room, "but I 'll keep the gun handy just the same until we understand eachother. Anybody else in this neighborhood?"

"Not unless it's Le Fevre, an' his outfit. "

"Then I reckon you did the shooting, out there a bit ago?"

The man shuffled uneasily, but the Sergeant's right hand came to alevel. 

"Did you?"

"I s'pose thar ain't no use o' denyin' it, " reluctantly, eyeing the gunin the corner, "but I did n't mean to shoot up no outfit but LeFevre's. So help me, I did n't! The danged snow was so thick I couldn't see nohow, and I never s'posed any one was on the trail 'cept him. Thar ain't been no white man 'long yere in three months. Didn't hitnone of yer, did I?"

"Yes, you did, " returned Hamlin slowly, striving to hold himself incheck. "You killed one of the best fellows that ever rode theseplains, you sneaking coward, you. Shot him dead, with his back to you. Now, see here, it's a throw of the dice with me whether I fill you fullof lead, or let you go. I came in here intending to kill you, if youwere the cur who shot us up. But I 'm willing to listen to what youhave got to say. I 'm some on the fight, but plain murder don't justappeal to me. How is it? Are you ready to talk? Spit it out, man!"

"I 'll tell yer jest how it was. "

"Do it my way then; answer straight what I ask you. Who are you? Whatare you doing here?"

"Kin I sit down?"

"Yes; make it short now; all I want is facts. "

The man choked a bit, turned and twisted on the stool, but was helplessto escape. 

"Wal, my name is Hughes--Jed Hughes; I uster hang out round San Antone, an' hev been mostly in the cow business. The last five years Le Fevrean' I hev been grazin' cattle in between yere an' Buffalo Creek. "

"Partners?"

"Wal, by God! I thought so, till just lately, " his voice rising. "Anyhow, I hed a bunch o' money in on the deal, though I 'll be darnedif I know just what's become o' it. Yer see, stranger, Gene hed theinside o' this Injun business, bein' as he 's sorter squaw man--"

"What!" interrupted the other sharply. "Do you mean he married intoone of the tribes?"

"Sorter left-handed--yep; a Cheyenne woman. Little thing like that didn't faze Gene none, if he did have a white wife--a blamed good-lookershe was too. She was out here onc't, three years ago, 'bout a weekmaybe. Course she did n't know nothin' 'bout the squaw, an' the Injunswas all huntin' down in the Wichitas. But as I wus sayin', Gene caughton to this yere Injun war last spring--I reckon ol' Koleta, his Injunfather-in-law, likely told him what wus brewin'--he's sorter awar-chief. Anyhow he knew thet hell wus to pay, an' so we natch'allygathered up our long-horns an' drove 'em east whar they would n't beraided. We did n't git all the critters rounded up, as we wus in ahurry, an' they wus scattered some 'cause of a hard winter. So I comeback yere to round up the rest o' ther bunch. "

"And brand a few outsiders. "

He grinned. 

"Maybe I was n't over-particular, but anyhow I got a thousand headtogether by the last o' June, an' hit the trail with 'em. Then hellsure broke loose. 'Fore we 'd got that bunch o' cattle twenty miledown the Cimarron we wus rounded up by a gang o' Cheyenne Injuns, headed by that ornery Koleta, and every horn of 'em drove off. Tharwa'n't no fight; the damn bucks just laughed at us, an' left us sittin'thar out on the prairie. They hogged hosses an' all. "

He wiped his face, and spat into the fire, while Hamlin sat silent, gunin hand. 

"I reckon now as how Le Fevre put ol' Koleta wise to that game, but Iwas plum innocent then, " he went on regretfully. "Wall, we, --thar wusfour o' us, --hoofed it east till we struck some ranchers on Cow Crick, and got the loan o' some ponies. Then I struck out to locate the mainherd. It didn't take me long, stranger, to discover thar wa'n't noherd to locate. But I struck their trail, whar Le Fevre had driven 'emup into Missouri and cashed in fer a pot o' money. Then the damn cussjust natch'ally vanished. I plugged 'bout fer two er three monthshopin' ter ketch up with him, but I never did. I heerd tell o' himonc't or twice, an' caught on he was travellin' under 'nuthername--some durn French contraction--but thet's as much as I ever didfind out. Finally, up in Independence I wus so durn near broke Ireckoned I 'd better put what I hed left in a grub stake, an' driftback yere. I figgered thet maybe I could pick up some o' those Injuncattle again, and maybe some mavericks, an' so start 'nuther herd. Anyhow I could lie low fer a while, believin' Le Fevre wus sure tercome back soon as he thought the coast wus clear. I knew then he an'Koleta was in cahoots an' he 'd be headin' this way after the stock. So I come down yere quiet, an' laid fer him to show up. "

"What then?"

"Nuthin' much, till yisterday. I got tergether some cows, herded downriver a ways, out o' sight in the bluffs, but hev hed ter keep mightyquiet ter save my hair. Them Cheyennes are sure pisen this year, an'raisin' Cain. I never see 'em so rambunctious afore. But I hung onyere, hidin' out, cause I didn't hev nowhar else ter go. An'yisterday, just ahead o' the blizzard, a Kiowa buck drifted in yere. Slipped down the bluff, an' caught me 'fore ever I saw him. Never laideyes on the red afore but he wus friendly 'nough, natch'ally mistakin'me fer one o' Le Fevre's herders. His name wus Black Smoke, an' hecould n't talk no English worth mentionin', but we made out tounderstan' each other in Mex. He wus too darn hungry and tired to talkmuch anyhow. But I got what I wanted to know out o' him. "

"Well, go on, Hughes; you are making a long story out of it. "

"The rest is short 'nough. It seems he an' ol' Koleta, an' a youngCheyenne buck, had been hangin' 'round across the river from Dodge ferquite a while waitin' fer Le Fevre to pull off some sorter stunt. Maybe I did n't get just the straight o' it, but anyhow they held up apaymaster, er something like that, fer a big boodle. They expected todo it quiet like, hold the off'cer a day er so out in the desert, an'then turn him loose to howl. But them plans did n't just exactly work. The fellow's daughter was with him, when the pinch was made, an' theyhed to take her 'long too. Then the officer man got ugly, an' had tobe shot, an' Le Fevre quarrelled with the other white man in theoutfit, an' killed him. That left the gal on their hands, an' them allin a hell of a fix if they wus ever caught. The young Injuns wanted tokill the gal too, an' shet her mouth, but somehow Le Fevre an' Koletawould n't hear to it--said she 'd be worth more alive than dead, an'that they could hide her whar she 'd never be heard of ag'in unless herfriends put up money to buy her back. "

Hamlin was leaning forward, watching the speaker intently, and itseemed to him his heart had stopped beating. This story had thesemblance of truth; it _was_ the truth. So Dupont and Le Fevre wereone and the same. He could believe this now, could perceive theresemblance, although the man had grown older, taken on flesh, anddisguised himself wonderfully by growing that black beard. Yet, at themoment, he scarcely considered the man at all; his whole interestconcentrated on the fate of the unfortunate girl. 

"Where were they taking her, Hughes--do you know?"

"Wa'n't but one place fer 'em to take her--the Cheyennes hev got wintercamp down yonder on the Canadian--Black Kettle's outfit. Onc't thar, all hell could n't pry her loose. "

"And Le Fevre dared go there? Among those hostiles?"

"Him!" Hughes laughed scornfully. "Why, he's hand in glove with thewhole bunch. He's raided with 'em, decked out in feathers an'war-paint. "

The Sergeant thought rapidly and leaped to a sudden conclusion. 

"And you were trying to kill him when you shot us up?"

"Thet wus the idea, stranger; if I got a friend o' yourn, I 'm powerfulsorry. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

SNOWBOUND

The gleam in Hamlin's eyes impelled the other to go on, and explainfully. 

"Lord, I know how yer feel, stranger, an', I reckon, if yer was to plugme right yere it would n't more 'n even matters up. But yer listenfurst afore yer shoot. Thet Kiowa Black Smoke was sent on ahead, an'got yere afore the storm. He said them others wus 'bout four hoursbehind, an' headin' fer this yere cabin to make camp. They wa'n'thurryin' none, fer they did n't suspect they wus bein' tracked. Well, thet was my chance; what I 'd been campin' out yere months a-waitin'fer. I did n't expect ter git nuthin' back, y' understand; all Iwanted was ter kill that damn skunk, an' squar accounts. It looked terme then like I hed him on the hip. He did n't know I was in thekintry; all I hed to do was lay out in the hills, an' take a pot-shotat him afore he saw me. "

"And get the girl and the money. "

"As God is my witness, I never thought 'bout thet. I jest wanted terplug him. I know it sounds sorter cowardly, but that fellow 's agun-fighter, an' he hed two Injuns with him. Anyhow that wus mynotion, an' as soon as Black Smoke went lopin' up the valley, I loadedup, an' climbed them bluffs, to whar I hed a good look-out erlong thenorth trail. I laid out thar all night. The storm come up, an' Imighty nigh froze, but snuggled down inter ther snow an' stuck. Whenyer onc't get a killin' freak on, yer goin' through hell an' high waterter get yer man. Thet's how I felt. Well, just 'long 'bout daylightan outfit showed up. With my eyes half froze over, an' ther stormblowin' the snow in my face, I could n't see much--nuthin' but outlineso' hosses an' men. But thar was four o' 'em, an' a big fellow aheadbreakin' trail. Course I thought it was Le Fevre; I wa'n't lookin' ferno one else, an' soon as I dared, I let drive. He flopped over dead asa door nail, an' then I popped away a couple o' times at the others. One fell down, an' I thought I got him, but did n't wait to make sure;just turned and hoofed it fer cover, knowin' the storm would hide mytrail. I 'd got the man I went after, an' just natch'ally did n't giveer whoop what become o' the rest. As I went down the bank I heard 'emshootin' so I knowed some wus alive yet an' it would be better fer meto crawl inter my hole an' lie still. "

Hamlin sat motionless, staring at the man, not quite able to comprehendhis character. Killing was part of the western code, and he couldappreciate Hughes' eagerness for revenge, but the underlying cowardicein the man was almost bewildering. Finally he got up, swept therevolver on the bench into his pocket, walked over, and picked up thegun. 

"Now, Hughes, " he said quietly. "I'll talk, and you listen. In myjudgment you are a miserable sneaking cur, and I am going to trust youjust so far as I can watch you. I suppose I ought to shoot you whereyou are, and have done with it. You killed one of the best men whoever lived, a friend of mine, Sam Wasson--"

"Who?"

"Sam Wasson, a government scout. "

Hughes dropped his face into his hands. 

"Good Lord! I knew him!"

The Sergeant drew a deep breath, and into his face there came a lookalmost of sympathy. 

"Then you begin to realize the sort of fool you are, " he went onsoberly. "They don't make better men out here; his little finger wasworth more than your whole body. But killing you won't bring Sam back, and besides I reckon you 've told me the straight story, an' hisshooting was an accident in a way. Then you 're more useful to me justnow alive than you would be dead. My name is Hamlin, sergeant SeventhCavalry, and I am here after that man Le Fevre. We trailed his outfitfrom Dodge until the storm struck us, and then came straight throughtravelling by compass. I did not know the man's name was Le Fevreuntil you told me; up in Kansas he is known as Dupont. "

"That 's it; that's the name he took when he sold the cattle. "

"The officer robbed and killed was Major McDonald, and it is hisdaughter they hold. The fellow Dupont quarrelled with and shot was adeserter named Connors. We found the body. Now where do you supposeLe Fevre is?"

Hughes stared into the fire, nervously pulling his beard. 

"Wall, I 'd say in west yere somewhar along the Cimarron. 'T ain'tlikely he had a compass, an' the wind wus from the nor'east. Best theycould do, the ponies would drift. The Injuns would keep the gineraldirection, o' course, storm 'er no storm, an' Gene is some plainsmanhimself, but thet blizzard would sheer 'em off all the same. I reckonthey 're under the banks ten mile, er more, up thar. An' soon as there's a change in weather, they 'll ride fer Black Kettle's camp. Thet'smy guess, mister. "

Hamlin turned the situation over deliberately in his mind, satisfiedthat Hughes had reviewed the possibilities correctly. If Le Fevre'sparty had got through at all, then that was the most likely spot forthem to be hiding in. They would have drifted beyond doubt, fartherthan Hughes supposed, probably, as he had been sheltered from the realviolence of the wind as it raged on the open plain. They might befifteen, even twenty miles away, and so completely drifted in as to beundiscoverable except through accident. What course then was best topursue? The storm was likely to continue violent for a day, perhapstwo days longer. His horses were exhausted, and Carroll helpless. Itmight not even be safe to leave the latter alone. Yet if the frozenman could be left in the hut to take care of himself and the ponies, would there be any hope of success in an effort to proceed up the riveron foot? He could make Hughes go--that was n't the difficulty--butprobably they could n't cover five miles a day through the snowdrifts. And, even if they did succeed in getting through in time to interceptthe fugitives, the others would possess every advantage--both positionfor defense, and horses on which to escape. Hughes, lighting his pipe, confident now in his own mind that he was personally safe, seemed tosense the problem troubling the Sergeant. 

"I reckon I know this yere kintry well 'nough, " he said lazily, "tergive yer a pointer er two. I 've rounded up long-horns west o' yere. Them fellers ain't goin' to strike out fer the Canadian till after thestorm quits. By thet time yer ponies is rested up in better shape thantheirs will be, and we kin strike 'cross to the sou'west. We 're boundeither to hit 'em, or ride 'cross thar trail. "

"But the woman!" protested Hamlin, striding across the floor. "Whatmay happen to her in the meanwhile? She is an Eastern girl, unaccustomed to this life, --a--a lady. "

"Yer don't need worry none 'bout thet. Ef she 's the right kind she'll stan' more 'n a man when she has to. I reckon it won't be none toopleasant 'long with Gene an' them Cheyenne bucks, but if she 's pulledthrough so far, thar ain't nuthin' special goin' ter happen till theygit to the Injun camp. "

"You mean her fate will be decided in council?"

"Sure; thet's Cheyenne law. Le Fevre knows it, an' ol' Koleta wouldknife him in a minute if he got gay. He's a devil all right--thet ol'buck--but he 's afraid of Black Kettle, an' thar won't be no harm doneto the gal. "

The Sergeant walked over to the fire, and stared down into the redembers, striving to control himself. He realized the truth of allHughes said, and yet had to fight fiercely his inclination to hasten toher rescue. The very thought of her alone in those ruthless hands wastorture. There was no selfishness in the man's heart, no hope ofwinning this girl for himself, yet he knew now that he loved her; thatfor him she was the one woman in all the world. Her face was in hismemory; the very soughing of the wind seemed her voice calling him. But the real man in him--the plainsman instinct--conquered theimpetuosity of the lover. There must be no mistake made--no rash, hopeless effort. Better delay, than ultimate failure, and Hughes' planwas the more practical way. He lifted his head, his lips set withdecision. 

"You're right, old man. We'll wait, " he said sternly. "Now to getready. Have you a corral?"

The other made a gesture with his hand. 

"Twenty rod b'low, under the bluff. "

"We 'll drive the horses down, feed and water them. But first comewith me; there is a half-frozen man up yonder. "

They ploughed through the snow together, choking and coughing in thethick swirl of flakes that beat against their faces. The three horses, powdered white, stood tails to the storm, with heads to the bluff, while the drifts completely covered Carroll. He was sleeping, warm inthe blankets, and the two men picked him up and stumbled along withtheir burden to the shelter of the cabin. Then Hughes faced theblizzard again, leading the horses to the corral, while Hamlinministered to the semi-conscious soldier, laying him out upon a pile ofsoft skins, and vigorously rubbing his limbs to restore circulation. The man was stupid from exposure, and in some pain, but exhibited nodangerous symptoms. When wrapped again in his blankets, he fellinstantly asleep. Hughes returned, mantled with snow, and, as the dooropened, the howl of the storm swept by. 

"No better outside?"

"Lord, no! Worse, if anything. Wind more east, sweepin' the snow upthe valley. We 'll be plum shet up in an hour, I reckon. Hosses allright, though. "

In the silence they could hear the fierce beating against the door, theshrieking of the storm-fiend encompassing them about. 

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CHASE

Hamlin never forgot those two days and nights of waiting, while thestorm roared without and the clouds of drifting snow made any dream ofadvance impossible. Trained as he was to patience, the delay leftmarks in his face, and his nerves throbbed with pain. His mind waswith her constantly, even in moments of uneasy sleep, picturing hercondition unsheltered from the storm, and protected only by Le Fevreand his two Indian allies. If he could only reach them, only strike ablow for her release, it would be such a relief. The uncertaintyweighed upon him, giving unrestricted play to the imagination, and, incidentally awakening a love for the girl so overwhelming as almost tofrighten him. He had fought this feeling heretofore, sternly, deliberately, satisfied that such ambition was hopeless. He would notattempt to lower her to his level, nor give her the unhappiness ofknowing that he dared misconstrue her frank friendliness into aughtmore tender. But these misfortunes had changed the entire outlook. Now he flung all pretence aside, eager to place his life on the altarto save her. Even a dim flame of hope began blazing in his heart--hopethat he might yet wring from Le Fevre a confession that would clear hisname. He knew his man at last--knew him, and would track him now withall the pitiless ingenuity of a savage. Once he could stand erect, absolved of disgrace, a man again among men, he would ignore theuniform of the ranks, and go to her with all the pride of his race. Ay! and down in his heart he knew that she would welcome his coming;that her eyes would not look at the uniform, but down into the depthsof his own. 

He thought of it all as he paced the floor, or stared into the fire, while outside the wind raged and howled, piling the snow against thecabin front, and whirling in mad bursts up the valley. It would bedeath to face the fury of it on those open plains. There was nothingleft him but to swear, and pace back and forth. Twice he and Hughesfought their way to the corral, found the horses sheltered in a littlecove, and brought them food and water. The struggle to accomplish thiswas sufficient proof of the impossibility of going farther. Exhaustedand breathless they staggered back into the quietness of the cabin, feeling as though they had been beaten by clubs. Once, desperate toattempt something, Hamlin suggested searching for the bodies of Wassonand Wade, but Hughes shook his head, staring at the other as thoughhalf believing him demented. The Sergeant strode to the door andlooked out into the smother of snow; then came back without a word ofprotest. 

Carroll improved steadily, complaining of pain where the frost hadnipped exposed flesh, yet able to sit up, and eat heartily. Thereremained a numbness in his feet and legs, however, which prevented hisstanding alone, and both the others realized that he would have to beleft behind when the storm abated. Hughes would go without doubt; onthis point the Sergeant was determined. He did not altogether like ortrust the man; he could not blot from memory the cowardly shot whichhad killed Wasson, nor entirely rid himself of a fear that he, himself, had failed an old comrade, in not revenging his death; yet one thingwas clear--the man's hatred for Le Fevre made him valuable. Treacherous as he might be by nature, now his whole soul was bent onrevenge. Moreover he knew the lay of the land, the trail the fugitiveswould follow, and to some extent Black Kettle's camp. Little by littleHamlin drew from him every detail of Le Fevre's life in the cattlecountry, becoming more and more convinced that both men were thieves, their herds largely stolen through connivance with Indians. Undoubtedly Le Fevre was the bigger rascal of the two, and possessedgreater influence because of his marriage into the tribe. 

It was the second midnight when the wind died down. Hamlin, sleepingfitfully, seemed to sense the change; he rose, forced the door open, and peered out eagerly. There was lightness to the sky, and all about, the unbroken expanse of snow sparkled in cold crystals. Nothing brokethe white desolation but the dark waters of the river still unfrozen, and the gaunt limbs of the cottonwoods, now standing naked andmotionless. The silence was profound, seeming almost painful after thewild fury of the past days. He could hear the soft purr of the water, and Carroll's heavy breathing. And it was cold, bitterly cold, thechill of it penetrating to his very bones. But for that he had nocare--his mind had absorbed the one important fact; the way was open, they could go. He shook Hughes roughly into wakefulness, givingutterance to sharp, tense orders, as though he dealt with a man of hisown troop. 

"Turn out--lively, now. Yes, the storm is over. It's midnight, or alittle after, and growing cold. Put on your heavy stuff, and bring upthe two best horses. Come, now; you 'll step off quicker than that, Hughes, if you ride with me. I 'll have everything ready by the timeyou get here. Eat! Hell! We 'll eat in the saddle! What's that, Carroll?'

"Ye ain't a-goin' to leave me yere alone, are ye, Sergeant?"

"No; there 'll be two horses to keep you company. You've got a snap, man; plenty to eat, and a good fire--what more do you want--a nurse?Hughes, what, in the name of Heaven, are you standing there for?Perhaps you would like to have me stir you up. I will if those horsesare not here in ten minutes. "

The cowman, muffled to the ears in a buffalo coat, plunged profanelyinto the drift, slamming the door behind him. Hamlin hastily glancedover the few articles piled in readiness on the bench--ammunition, blankets, food--paying no heed to Carroll's muttering of discontent. By the time Hughes returned, he had everything strapped for thesaddles. He thrust the cowman's rifle under his own flap, but handedthe latter a revolver, staring straight into his eyes as he did so. 

"I reckon you and I have got enough in common in this chase to playsquare, " he said grimly. "We 're both out after Le Fevre, ain't we?"

"You bet. "

"All right, then; here 's your gun. If you try any trickery, Hughes, I'd advise that you get me the first shot, for if you miss you 'll neverhave another. "

The man drew the sleeve of his coat over his lips, his eyes shiftingbefore the Sergeant's steady gaze. 

"I ain't thet sort, " he muttered uneasily. "Yer don't need to thinkthet o' me. "

"Maybe not, " and Hamlin swung into the saddle carelessly. "Only Ithought I 'd tell you beforehand what would happen if you attempt anyfool gun-play. Take the lead, you know the trail. "

Carroll, supporting himself by the table, crept across to the door andwatched them, reckless as to the entering cold. The glare of the whitesnow revealed clearly the outlines of the disappearing horsemen, asthey rode cautiously down the bank. The thin fringe of shore ice brokeunder the weight of the ponies' hoofs, as the riders forced themforward into the icy water. A moment later the two crept up the sharpincline of the opposite shore, appearing distinct against the sky asthey attained the summit. Hamlin waved his hand, and then, on a lope, the figures vanished into the gloom. Crying, and swearing at hishelplessness, the deserted soldier closed the door, and crept backshivering into his blankets. 

Hughes turned his horse's head to the southwest, and rode steadilyforward, the buffalo overcoat giving him a shaggy, grotesque appearancein the spectral light reflected from the snow. Without a word Hamlinfollowed, a pace behind. Their route lay for the first few milesacross a comparatively level plateau, over which the fierce wind of thelate storm had swept with such violence as to leave the surface packedfirm. The night shut them in silently, giving to their immediatesurroundings a mournful loneliness most depressing. There were noshadows, only the dull snow-gleam across which they passed likespectres, the only sound the crunching of their horses' hoofs on thecrust. The Sergeant, staring about, felt that he had never looked upona more depressing spectacle than this gloomy landscape, desolate andwind-swept, still over-arched with low-lying storm clouds, black andominous. 

They advanced thus for two hours, making no attempt to force theiranimals, and scarcely exchanging a word, both men watchful of the snowunderfoot in search of a possible trail, when the character of thecountry began to change. The level plain broke into a series of ridgesof irregular formation, all evidently heading toward some more southernvalley. In the depressions the snow lay banked in deep drifts, and, after plunging desperately through two of these, unable to judgecorrectly in the dim light where to ride, Hughes turned more to thesouth, skirting along the bare slope of a ridge, trusting some turnlower down would yield them the necessary westerning. 

"It's over the ponies' heads down thar, Sergeant, " he said, pointingsideways into the dark hollow, "an' we 're bound to strike across-ridge afore we come to the bluffs. "

"What bluffs? The Canadian?"

"Yep; it 's badly broken kintry a long ways west o' yere. Bad lands, mostly, an' a hell o' a place for cattle to hide out. "

"Hughes, do you know where Black Kettle's camp is?"

"Well, no, not exactly. Las' winter the Cheyennes was settled 'boutopposite the mouth o' Buffalo Creek, an' thar 're down thar somewharnow. Thar 's one thing sure--they ain't any east o' thet. As we ain'thit no trail, I reckon as how Le Fevre's outfit must hev driftedfurther then I calc'lated. "

"I thought so at the time, " commented the other quietly. "However, wewill have to make the circle, and, if the country out yonder is as youdescribe, they will be no better off. They 'll have to follow theridges to get through. We may get a glimpse when daylight comes. "

They rode on steadily, keeping down below the crest of the hills, yetpicking a passage where the snow had been swept clear. Theslipperiness of the incline made their progress slow, as they dared notrisk the breaking of a horse's leg in that wilderness, and the faintlight glimmer was most confusing. The wind had ceased, the calm wasimpressive after the wild tumult, but the cold seemed to strengthen asthe dawn advanced, viciously biting the exposed faces of the men. Thestraining ponies were white with frost. In the gray of a cheerlessdawn they reached the first line of bluffs, and drew rein just belowthe summit, where they could look on across the lower ridges to thewestward. 

It was a wild, desolate scene, the dull gray sky overhead, the blackand white shading below. Mile on mile the picture unrolled to thehorizon, the vista widening slowly as the light increased, bringingforth the details of barren, wind-swept ridges and shallow valleyschoked with snow. Not a tree, not a shrub, not even a rock broke thedead monotony. All was loneliness and silence. The snow lay gleamingand untrampled, except as here and there a dull brown patch of deadgrass darkened the side of a hill. Hamlin shadowed his eyes withgloved hands, studying intently inch by inch the wide domain. Suddenlyhe arose in his stirrups, bending eagerly forward. 

"By heaven! There they are, Hughes, " he exclaimed, feeling the hotblood course through his veins. "See, on the incline of that thirdridge. There is a shadow there, and they are not moving. Here; drawin back of me; now you can see. It looks as though they had a horsedown. "

Hughes stared long in the direction indicated, his eyes narrowed intomere slits. 

"Ah! that's it, " he said at last. "Horse broke a leg; shot it jestthen--I seen the flash. Now they 're goin' on. See! One fellowclimbin' up behind 'nother, an' the horse left lyin' thar on the snow. "

"How many people do you make out?" and Hamlin's voice shook a little. "There's four, ain't there?"

At that distance the fugitives looked like mere black dots. It couldscarcely be determined that they moved, and yet their outlines weredistinct against the background of white snow, while the two watcherspossessed the trained vision of the plains. Hughes answered after adeliberate inspection, without so much as turning his head. 

"Thar's four; leastwise thar was four hosses, and two--the Injunslikely--are ridin' double. Thar animals are 'bout played, it looks terme--just able ter crawl. Ain't had no fodder is 'bout the size o' it. We ought to be able ter head thet bunch off 'fore they git to theCanadian at thet rate o' travel--hey, Sergeant?"

Hamlin's eyes followed the long sweep of the cross-ridge, studying itstrend, and the direction of the intervening valleys. Once down on theother slope all this extensive view would be hidden; they would have toride blindly, guessing at the particular swale along which those otherswere advancing. To come to the summit again would surely expose themto those keen Indian eyes. They would be searching the trail aheadceaselessly, noting every object along the crests of the ridges. However, if the passage around was not blocked with snow, they ought toattain the junction in ample time. With twice as far to travel, theirponies were strong and fit, and should win out against Le Fevre'sstarved beasts. He waved his gloved hand. 

"We 'll try it, " he said shortly; "come on, Hughes. "

He led off along the steep side of the hill, and forcing his horse intoa sharp trot, headed straight out into the white wilderness; Hughes, without uttering a word, brought down his quirt on his pony's flank andfollowed. 

CHAPTER XXX

THE FIGHT IN THE SNOW

The slope toward the south had not been swept clear by the wind, andthe horses broke through the crust to their knees, occasionallystumbling into hollows where the drifts were deep. This made progressslow, although Hamlin pressed forward recklessly, fully aware of whatit would mean should the fugitives emerge first, and thus achieve aclear passage to the river. What was going on there to the right, behind the fringe of low hills, could not be conjectured, but to theleft the riders could see clearly for a great distance over thedesolate, snow-draped land, down to the dark waters of the Canadian andthe shore beyond. It was all a deserted waste, barren of movement, andno smoke bore evidence of any Indian encampment near by. A mile ormore to the west the river took a sharp bend, disappearing behind thebluffs, and on the open plain, barely visible against the unsulliedmantle of snow, were dark specks, apparently moving, but in erraticfashion. The distance intervening was too great for either man todistinguish exactly what these might be, yet as they plunged onwardtheir keen eyes searched the valley vigilantly through the cold clearair. 

"Some of your long-horns, Hughes?" asked the Sergeant finally, pointingas he turned and glanced back. "Quite a bunch of cattle, it looks tome. "

"Them thar ain't cows, " returned the other positively. "Tha 're tooclosely bunched up. I reckon it 'll be Black Kettle's pony herd. "

"Then his village will lie in beyond the big bend there, " and Hamlinrose in his stirrups, shading his eyes. "The herders have n't driventhem far since the storm broke. You don't see any smoke, do you?"

Hughes shook his head. 

"You would n't likely see none against thet gray sky; them ponies istwo er maybe three miles off, an' ther camp is likely a mile er sofurther. Thar 's a big bend thar, as I remember; a sort o' level spotwith bluff all 'round, 'cept on the side o' ther river. We hed acattle corral thar onc't, durin' a round-up. Most likely that's wharthey are. "

"And Le Fevre is heading straight for the spot. Well, he 'll have tocome out on this bench first. "

"Yep, there sure ain't no valleys lying between. How many o' theseyere gulch openings have we got past already?"

"Three; there 's the fourth just ahead. That's the one they weretrailing through. No doubt about that, is there?"

"Not 'less them Injuns took to the ridge. They wus sure in the fourthvalley when we fust sighted the outfit back thar. Whatcher goin' terdo, Sergeant? Jump 'em a hoss-back, an' just pump lead?"

Hamlin had thought this over as he rode and already had planned hisattack. The opening to the valley, along which Le Fevre's exhaustedparty were slowly advancing toward them, seemed favorable--it wasnarrow and badly choked with snow. It offered an ideal place for asurprise and was far enough away from the Indian encampment--if thelatter was situated as Hughes believed, in the great bend above--sothat no echo of shots would carry that distance, even through the crispatmosphere. There were two things the Sergeant had determined toaccomplish if possible--the rescue of Miss Molly uninjured, and thecapture of Le Fevre. No matter how deeply he despised the man he couldnot afford to have him killed. So far as the Indians were concernedthere would be no mercy shown, for if either one escaped he would carrythe news to the village. With all this in his mind the Sergeant swungout of the saddle, dropping the rein to the ground, confident that thetired cow-pony would remain quiet. His belt was buckled outside thearmy overcoat, and he drew his revolver, tested it, and slipped it backloosely into the holster. Then he pulled out the rifle from under theflap of the saddle, grimly handling it in his gloved fingers. Hughes, his head sunk into his fur collar, his hot breath steaming in the coldatmosphere, watched him curiously. 

"Lookin' fer a right smart fight, I reckon, " he said, a trifleuneasily. "Believe me, yer ain't goin' ter find thet fellar no springchicken. He 's some on ther gun play. "

"I hope he knows enough to quit when he 's cornered, " returned theother pleasantly, sweeping his eyes to the opening in the hills, "for I'm aiming to take him back to Kansas alive. "

"The hell ye are!"

"That 's the plan, pardner, and I 've got reason for it. I knew LeFevre once, years ago, during the war, and I 've been some anxious toget my hands on him ever since. He 's worth far more to me alive thandead, just now, and, Hughes, " his voice hardening, "you 'll bear thatfact in mind when the fracas begins. From now on this is my affair, not yours. You understand? You get busy with the two bucks, and leavethe white man to me. Come on now, --dismount. "

Hughes came to the ground with evident reluctance, swearing savagely. 

"What do yer think I 'm yere for, " he demanded roughly, "if it wa'n'tto shoot that cuss?"

Hamlin strode swiftly over, and dropped a hand on the shaggy shoulder. 

"You are here because I ordered you to come with me; because if youhadn't I would have killed you back there in the shack, you red-handedmurderer. Now listen, Hughes. I know what you are--a cattle thief. You and Le Fevre belong to the same outfit, only he was the smarter ofthe two. I have spared your life for a purpose, and if you fail me nowI 'll shoot you down as I would a dog. Don't try to threaten me, youcur, for I am not that kind. I am not trusting you; I have n't fromthe first, but you are going into this fight on my side, and under myorders. "

The two men glared into each other's eyes, silent, breathing hard, butthere was a grim determination about the Sergeant's set jaw that leftHughes speechless. He grinned weakly, stamping down the snow underfoot. Hamlin's continued silence brought a protest to his lips. 

"Damn if I know why you say that, " he began. "Haven't I been square?"

"Because I know your style, Hughes. You hate Le Fevre for the dirtytrick he played on you, but you 'd sell out to him again in fiveminutes if you thought there was any money in it. I don't proposegiving you the chance. You 'll go ahead, and you are in more dangerfrom me than that outfit yonder. Now move, and we 'll take a look upthe valley. "

They ploughed a way through the drifts to the mouth of the narrowopening between the hills, dropping to their knees in the snow, andcautiously creeping forward the last few yards. Hamlin, convinced thatfear alone could control the ex-cowthief, kept slightly to the rear. 

"Now wait, Hughes, " he said, his voice lowered but still tense withcommand. "Be careful, man. Crawl up there in between those drifts, and look over. Keep down low, you fool. "

The two men wriggled slowly forward, smothered in the snowdrift, untilHughes' eyes barely topped the surface. Hamlin lay outstretched a footbelow, watchful for the slightest sign of treachery. The cowman staredup the depression, blinking his eyes in the snow glare. The impatientSergeant gripped his arm. 

"Well, what is it? Are they coming?"

"You bet, an' about dead, from the looks of 'em. Them fellars ain'tlookin' fer nuthin'. I reckon I could stand up straight yere an' they'd never see me. Take a look yerself; it's safe 'nough. "

Hamlin drew himself up, and peered out over the snow, but still grippedthe other's arm. With his first glance up the valley there swept overhim a strange feeling of sympathy for those he was hunting. It was adismal, depressing picture--the bare, snow-covered hillsides, andbetween, floundering weakly through the drifts, the little party offugitives, the emaciated ponies staggering with weakness, the men onfoot, reeling as they tramped forward, their heads lowered in utterweariness. The girl alone was in saddle, so wrapped about in blanketsas to be formless, even her face concealed. The manner in which sheswayed to the movements of the pony, urged on by one of the Indians, was evidence that she was bound fast, and helpless. At sight of hercondition Hamlin felt his old relentless purpose return. He wasplainsman enough to realize what suffering those men had passed throughbefore reaching such extremity, and was quick to appreciate the fullmeaning of their exhaustion, and to sympathize with it. He had passedthrough a similar baptism, and remembered the desperate clutch of thestorm-king. 

But the sight of that poor girl swaying helplessly in the saddle, abound prisoner in the midst of those ruffians, who had murdered herfather before her eyes and who were bearing her to all the unspeakablehorrors of Indian captivity, instantly stifled within him every plea ofmercy. No matter what they had suffered, they were a ruthless, merciless gang of cut-throats and thieves, fleeing from justice, deserving of no consideration. Yet their distressed appearance, theirlack of vigilance, rendered him careless. They seemed too weak toresist, too exhausted to fight; the cold plucking at their hearts hadseemingly already conquered. It was this impression which caused himto act recklessly, rising to his feet, rifle in hand, directly in theirtrack, halting their advance with stern command. 

"Hands up! Quick now, the three of you! Don't wait, Dupont; I 've gotthe drop!"

The white man was in front, a huge, shapeless figure in his furs, hisblack beard frosted oddly. He stood motionless, astounded at thisstrange apparition in blue cavalry overcoat, which had sprung up sosuddenly in that wilderness. For an instant he must have deemed thevision confronting him some illusion of the desert, for he neverstirred except to rub a gloved hand across his eyes. 

"By all the gods, Dupont, " roared the Sergeant impatiently, "do youwant me to shoot? Damn you, throw up your hands!"

Slowly, as though his mind was still in a dream, the man's hands werelifted above his head, one grasping a short, sawed-off gun. Theexpression upon his face was ugly, as he began to dimly understand whatthis unexpected hold-up meant. There followed an instant of silence, in which Hamlin, forgetful of Hughes, who still remained lying quiet inthe snow, took a step or two forward, rifle at shoulder. The twoIndians, swathed in blankets, but with arms upraised, were in directline, motionless as statues. He could see the gleam of their darkeyes, and even noticed the figure of the girl straighten in the saddle. 

Dupont gave fierce utterance to an oath. Apparently he failed torecognize the soldier, but as Hughes rose to his knees, suspicionleaped instantly to his brain. 

"A hold-up, hey!" he said coolly. "Hughes, you sneaking old coward, come out into the open once. What is it you want?"

"Nothing to that, Dupont, " returned the Sergeant, glancing backquestioningly toward his companion. "Your old partner is here under myorders. I am Sergeant Hamlin, Seventh Cavalry. Throw down that gun!"

"What! You--"

"Yes, you are my prisoner, I 've followed you from Dodge. Throw downthe gun!"

It was dropped sullenly into the snow. 

"Now, Hughes, go ahead, and disarm those Indians. "

The cowman shuffled forward, revolver in hand, circling to keep safelybeyond reach of Dupont, who eyed him maliciously. The latter was sobuttoned up in a buffalo coat as to make it impossible for him to reacha weapon, and Hamlin permitted his eyes to waver slightly, as hewatched the Indians. What occurred the next instant came so suddenlyas scarcely to leave an impression. It was swift, instinctive action, primitive impulse. An Indian hand fell beneath its blanket covering;there was a flash of flame across a pony's saddle; Hughes sprangbackward, and went reeling into the snow. Hamlin fired, as the savagedodged between the horse's legs, sending him sprawling, and, ignoringthe other Indian, swung about to cover Dupont. Swift as he moved, hewas too late. With one desperate spring backward the white man wasbehind the woman's pony, sheltered by her shapeless figure, grippingthe animal's bit. The second Indian dropped to his knees and openedfire. With a sudden lurch forward the Sergeant plunged headlong in thesnow. 

CHAPTER XXXI

THE GIRL AND THE MAN

As he went down, uninjured, but realizing now that this was to be abattle to the death, Hamlin flung open his coat, and gripped hisrevolver. Lying there on his face he fired twice, deliberately, choosing the exposed Indian as a target. The latter, striving to mounthis frightened pony, fell forward, grasping the mane desperately, astream of blood dyeing his blanket as the animal dashed across thevalley. Dupont had whirled the girl's horse to the left, and, with herbody as a shield, was attempting to escape. Already he was too faraway to make a revolver shot safe. Hamlin arose to his knees, andpicked up the dropped rifle. His lips were pressed tight; his eyesfull of grim determination. Why didn't Dupont fire? Could it be hewas unarmed? Or was he hoping by delay to gain a closer shot?Keen-eyed, resolute, the Sergeant determined to take no chances. Therifle came to a level, --a spurt of flame, a sharp report, and the ponystaggered to its knees, and sank, bearing its helpless burden with it. Dupont let go his grip on the rein, and stood upright, clearly outlinedagainst the white hillside, staring back toward the kneeling Sergeant, the faint smoke cloud whirling between. 

"All right--damn you!--you've got me!" he said sullenly. 

Hamlin never moved, except to snap out the emptied cartridge. 

"Unbutton that coat, " he commanded tersely. "Now turn around. Noshooting iron, hey! That's rather careless of a gun-man. "

He dropped his rifle, and strode forward revolver in hand, glancingcuriously at the dead Indian as he passed. A riata hung to the pommelof a saddle, and he paused to shake it loose, uncoiling the thin rope, but with watchful eyes constantly on his prisoner. He felt no fear ofDupont, now that he knew the fellow to be unarmed, and the woundedIndian had vanished over the ridge. Yet Dupont was a powerful man, anddesperate enough to accept any chance. Something in the sullen, glowering face confronting him awoke the Sergeant to caution. Heseemed to sense the plan of the other, and stopped suddenly, slippingthe rope through his fingers. 

He swung the coil about his head, measuring the distance, every facultyconcentrated on the toss. He had forgotten Hughes lying in the snowbehind; he neither saw nor heard the fellow scramble weakly to hisknees, revolver outstretched in a half-frozen hand. And Hughes, hiseyes already glazing in death, saw only the two figures. In thatmoment hate triumphed over cowardice; he could not distinguish whichwas Dupont, which Hamlin. In the madness of despair he caredlittle--only he would kill some one before he died. His weapon waveredfrantically as he sought to aim, the man holding himself up by onehand. Dupont, facing that way, saw this apparition, and leaped aside, stumbling over the dead pony. Hughes' weapon belched, and Hamlin, thelasso whirling above him in the air, pitched forward, and came crashingdown into the snow. 

It was all the work of an instant, a wild, confused bit, so rapidlyenacted as to seem unreal even to the participants. Hamlin laymotionless, barely conscious of living, yet unable to stir a muscle. Hughes, screaming out one oath, sank back into a heap, his frozenfingers still gripping his smoking weapon. Then Dupont rose cautiouslyto his knees, peering forth across the dead body of the pony. The manwas unnerved, unable at first to comprehend what had occurred. He wassaved as by a miracle, and his great form shook from head to foot. Then, as his eyes rested on the outstretched body of the Sergeant, hateconquered every other feeling; he staggered to his feet, picked up thegun lying in the snow, walked across, and brutally kicked the prostrateform. There was no response, no movement. 

"All I wish is that I 'd been the one to kill yer, " he growledsavagely, grinning down. "Hell of a good shot, though I reckon theblame fool meant it for me. " He threw the rifle forward, in readiness, and moved cautiously over toward Hughes. 

"Deader than a door-nail, " he muttered, pressing back the buffalo coat, and staring contemptuously down into the white, staring face. "Iwonder how that coward ever happened to be here--laying out for me, Ireckon!"

He straightened up and laughed, glancing furtively about. 

"Some good joke that. The whole outfit cleaned out, and me twentythousand to the good, " feeling inside his coat to make sure. "It 'sthere all right. Well, good-bye, boys, there don't seem to be nothinghere for me to stay for. "

He caught the straying pony and swung up into the saddle, glanced aboutonce more at the motionless figures, and finally rode off up the ridge, unconsciously following the tracks left by the fleeing Indian. If thegirl ever occurred to him, he gave no sign of remembrance, and sheuttered no word. Lying on her side, her eyes wide open, she watchedhim ride away, across the barren space, until the slow-moving ponytopped the ridge, and disappeared on the other side. Twice the manturned and glanced back into the valley, but saw nothing except theblack blotches on the snow. Molly made no motion, no outcry. Shepreferred death there alone, rather than rescue at his hands. Scarcelyconscious, feeling no strength in her limbs, no hope pulsing at herheart, she closed her eyes and lay still. Yet wrapped about as shewas, her young body remained warm, and the very disappearance of Dupontyielded a sense of freedom, awoke a strong desire to live. Her eyesopened again, despairingly, and gazed across the barren expanse. Shecould see Hamlin lying face downward, the yellow lining of his cavalrycape over his head. It seemed to her the man's foot moved. Could shebe dreaming? No! He actually drew up one limb. 

This evidence that the Sergeant still lived gave her fresh strength andrenewed determination. She struggled to move her own feet; the leftwas free, but the right was caught firmly beneath the pony. Shestruggled desperately, forgetful of pain, in the faith that she mightsave Hamlin. Little by little she worked the imprisoned limb free, only to find it numb and helpless. She lay there breathless, consciousthat she ached from head to foot. Beyond her the Sergeant groaned andturned partially over upon his side. Tugging at the blanket shemanaged to free one arm, gripped the mane of the dead pony, and drewherself into a sitting posture. Now the blood seemed to surge throughher veins in new volume, and she labored feverishly to release theother hand. At last she undid a knot with her teeth, and slipped theblanket from her, beating her hands together to restore circulation. Her right leg still was too numb to stand upon, but she crept forward, dragging it helplessly behind her over the snow, to where Hamlin lay. 

The girl's heart seemed to stop beating as she looked at him--at thewhite, colorless face, the closed eyes, the discoloration of bloodstaining the temple. Yet he lived; his faint breath was plainlyperceptible in the frosty air. 

"O God!" she sobbed, "what can I do!"

It was an unrestrained cry of anguish, yet there was no hesitation inaction. She had forgotten everything except that helpless figure lyingbefore her on the snow--her own danger, the surrounding desolation, thedead forms accentuating that wilderness tragedy. With bare hands shebathed his face in snow, rubbing the flesh until it flushed red, pressing her own warm body against his, her lips speaking his nameagain and again, almost hysterically, as though she hoped thus to callhim back to consciousness. Her exploring fingers told her that it wasno serious wound which had creased the side of his head; if there wasno other he would surely revive, and the discovery sent her bloodthrobbing through her veins. She lifted his head to her lap, chafinghis cold wrists frantically, her eyes staring again out across thebarren snow fields, with fresh realization of their intense loneliness. She choked back a sob of despair, and glanced down again into Hamlin'sface. He did not stir but his eyes were open, regarding her inbewilderment. 

"Molly, " he whispered, forgetting, "is this really you? What hashappened?"

The girl's eyes filled instantly with tears, but she did not move, except that the clasp of her hands grew stronger. 

"Yes, I am Molly; please do not move yet. You have been hurt, but itis all right now. "

"Hurt!" he lifted his head slightly and stared about; then dropped itagain with a sigh of content. "Oh, yes, now I know. Hughes shot mefrom behind. " He struggled upright, in spite of her efforts atrestraint, feeling beside him for the rifle. "Dupont was there, behindthat dead pony. What became of Dupont?"

She dropped her face in her hands, her form trembling. 

"He--he got away. He thought you were dead; to--to make sure he cameover and kicked you. Then he took your rifle, and the only pony left, and rode off. "

"And left you?"

"Yes--he--he never thought of me; only--only how he should escape withthe money. I never moved, never opened my eyes; perhaps he believed medead also, and--and I prayed he would. I would rather have died thanhave him touch me again. And--and I thought you were dead too. O God!It was so horrible!"

The man's voice was soft and low, thrilling with the love that refusedcontrol. 

"I know, dear; I know it all, now, " he said tenderly, clasping herhands. "But that is all over and gone. " He put up one hand to hiswound. "Heavens, how my head aches! But that pain won't last long. Iam a bit groggy yet, but will be on my feet pretty soon. You are abrave little girl. Tell me how you got free?"

She went over the short story slowly, not lifting her eyes to his, andhe listened in silence, moving his limbs about, confident of thegradual return of strength. 

"But how did it happen?" he asked. "Your capture? Your father'sdeath? It is all a mystery to me after I left you on the hotelbalcony. "

The tears stood in her eyes suddenly uplifted to his, and impulsivelythe man encircled her with his arm. 

"You know I care, dear, " he exclaimed recklessly. "You are not afraidto tell me. "

"No, no; you have been so kind, so true. I can tell youeverything--only it is so hard to confess the truth about my father. "

"You suspect he was implicated?" he asked in astonishment, "that heactually had a part in the plot?"

She looked at him gravely, down into his very soul. 

"Yes, and--and that hurts more than all the rest. "

CHAPTER XXXII

WORDS OF LOVE

Hamlin was silent for a moment, not knowing what to say that wouldcomfort or help. He had never suspected this, and yet he could notrefrain altogether from experiencing a feeling of relief. Deeply as hesympathized with her in this trouble, still the man could not but beconscious of those barriers formerly existing between them which thisdiscovery had instantly swept away. Now they could meet upon a level, as man and woman. No longer could rank intervene; not even the stainof his own court-martial. Possibly she dreamed of what was passing inhis mind, for she suddenly lifted her eyes to his. 

"Shall I tell you?"

"No; not now; both your explanation and mine can wait, " he repliedquickly. "I can stand alone now--see, " and he regained his feet, swaying slightly with dizziness, yet smiling down at her as he heldforth a hand. "Now you try it; take hold of me until you test yourlimbs--that was an ugly fall you got when I shot your pony. "

She straightened slowly, her cheeks flushing in the keen air, her eyesstriving to smile back in response to his challenge. 

"That was nothing, " she protested, tramping about. "I only went downinto the snow, but my arms were bound, and the pony fell on my foot--itfeels quite natural now. "

"Good. We shall have to tramp a little way. In which direction didDupont go?"

"Across the ridge there; see, that is his trail. "

"Then he never saw our horses out yonder. That is one piece or goodluck, at least. The sooner we get to them the better. I have beenguilty of enough foolishness to-day to be careful hereafter. " Helooked across at Hughes' body. "I wonder if that fellow meant to hitme? I never trusted him much, but I did n't expect that. Did you seehim fire?"

"Yes, but it was so sudden I could not even cry out. He was upon oneknee, and his revolver waved like this as he tried to aim. Dupont sawit, and jumped just as he pulled the trigger. "

"I thought so. The poor devil got the wrong man. "

"Why? Were those two enemies?"

"They had been partners, stealing and running cattle. Dupont hadcheated Hughes out of his share, and there was bad blood between them. I ran across the fellow up on the Cimarron, waiting for Dupont to comeback to his old range. Did you ever hear Dupont called by any othername?"

She shook her head questioningly. 

"No; was n't that his real name? The woman back there--wasn't she hiswife?"

"She was his wife, yes; but their name was not Dupont. That wasassumed; the correct one was Le Fevre. "

"Le Fevre! Why, --why, wasn't that the name of the man you told meabout once?--the officer who brought you those orders?"

"He is the same. I did not know him at Dodge; not until Hughes toldme. He had changed greatly in appearance, and I only saw him at night. But it was because I knew that I failed to kill him here; I wanted himalive, so I could compel him to tell the truth. "

She gave a little sob, her hands clasped together. The man's voicesoftened, and he took a step nearer, bending above her. 

"And yet now I do not care quite as much as I did. "

She looked up quickly into his face, and as swiftly lowered her lashes. 

"You mean you have found other evidence?"

"No, but I have found you, dear. You need not try, for I am not goingto let you get away. It is not the officer's daughter and the enlistedman any more. Those barriers are all gone. I do not mean that I amindifferent to the stain on my name, or any less desirous of wringingthe truth from Gene Le Fevre's lips, but even the memory of that pastcan keep me silent no longer. You are alone in the world now, aloneand in the shadow of disgrace--you need me. "

He stopped, amazed at the boldness of his own words, and, in thesilence of that hesitation, Molly lifted her eyes to his face. 

"I think I have always needed you, " she said simply. 

He did not touch her, except to clasp the extended hands. Theloneliness of the girl, here, helpless, alone with him in thatwilderness of snow, bore in upon his consciousness with a suddennessthat robbed him of all sense of triumph. He had spoken passionately, recklessly, inspired by her nearness, her dependence upon him. He hadfaith that she cared; her eyes, her manner, had told him this, yet evennow he could not realize all that was meant by that quiet confession. The iron discipline of years would not relax instantly; in spite of theboldness of his utterance, he was still the soldier, feeling the chasmof rank. Her very confession, so simply spoken, tended to confuse, tomystify him. 

"Do you mean, " he asked eagerly, "that you love me?"

"What else should I mean?" she said slowly. "It is not new to me; Ihave known for a long while. "

"That I loved you!"

"Yes, " smiling now. "Love is no mystery to a woman. I do not carebecause you are in the ranks; that is only a temporary condition. Iknew you out there, at the very first, as a gentleman. I have neverdoubted you. Here, in this wilderness, I am not afraid. It is notbecause my father is dead or because he has been guilty of crime, thatI say this. I would have said it before, on the balcony there inDodge, had you asked me. It is not the uniform I love, but the man. Can you not understand?"

"Will you marry me--a sergeant of cavalry?"

She was still smiling, her eyes frankly looking into his own. 

"I will marry David Hamlin, " she answered firmly, "let him be what hemay. "

The man let out his suppressed breath in a sob of relief, his eyesbrightening with triumph. 

"Oh, Molly! Molly!" he cried, "I cannot tell you what this all meansto me. There is no past now to my life, but all future. "

"Am I that to you?"

"That! Yes, and a thousand times more! I had ambition once, opportunity, even wealth. They were swept away by a man's lie, awoman's perfidy. Out of that wreck, I crawled into the world again amere thing. I lived simply because I must live, skulking in obscurity, my only inspiration the hope of an honorable death or an opportunityfor vengeance. Mine was the life of the ranks in the desert, associating with the lowest scum, in constant contact with savagery. Icould not speak to a decent woman, or be a man among men. There wasnothing left me but to brood over wrongs, and plot revenge. I becamemorose, savage, a mere creature of discipline, food for powder. It wasno more when I first met you. But with that meeting the chainssnapped, the old ambitions of life returned. You were a mere girl fromthe East; you did not understand, nor care about the snobbery of armylife. No, it was not that--you were above it. You trusted me, treatedme as a friend, almost as an equal. I loved you then, when we partedon the trail, but I went back to New Mexico to fight fate. It was sucha hopeless dream, yet all summer long I rode with memory tugging at myheart. I grew to hate myself, but could never forget you. "

She drew nearer, her hand upon his arm, her face uplifted. 

"And you thought I did not care?"

"How could I dream you did?" almost bitterly. "You were gracious, kind--but you were a major's daughter, as far away from me as thestars. I never heard from you; not even a rumor of your whereaboutscame to me across the plains. I supposed you had returned East; hadpassed out of my life forever. Then that night when we rode into DodgeI saw you again--saw you in the yellow lamp-light watching us pass, heard you ask what troops those were, and I knew instantly all myfighting out there in the desert had been vain--that you were foreverthe one, one woman. "

"I remained for that, " she confessed softly, her lashes wet. 

"At Dodge?"

"Yes, at Dodge. I knew you would come, must come. Some intuitionseemed to tell me that we should meet again. Oh, I was so happy thenight you came! No one had told me your troop had been ordered in. Itwas like a dream come true. When I saw you leading your horse acrossthe parade I could hardly refrain from calling out to you before themall. I did not care what they thought--for my soldier had come homefrom the wars. "

"Sweetheart, " the deep voice faltering, "may--may I kiss you?"

"Of course you may. "

Their lips met, and she clung to him, as his arms held her closely. Itwas like a dream to him, this sudden, unexpected surrender. Perhapsshe read this in his eyes. 

"Do not misunderstand, " she urged softly. "I do not come to youbecause of what has happened, because I am alone and helpless. If youhad stepped from the ranks that night at Dodge, I would have answeredeven as I do now. "

"You love me?--love me?" he repeated. 

"Yes. "

Even as he looked down into her upturned face, there was borne backupon him a realization of their predicament. His eyes swept over thesurrounding desolation, the two dead bodies lying motionless in thesnow, the stiffening pony, the drear hillside which shut them in. Thesight brought him back to consciousness with a shock. Minutes mightmean much now. Dupont had disappeared over that ridge to the right, inthe direction of Black Kettle's camp. How far away that might be wasaltogether guess-work, yet what would inevitably occur when thefugitive arrived among his friends, and told his story, could beclearly conceived. Even if the man believed Hamlin killed, he wouldrecall to mind the girl, and would return to assure himself as to herfate. Knowing her helplessness, the practical impossibility of herescape alone, a return expedition might not be hurried, yet, beyonddoubt, this isolated valley would have Indian visitors within a fewhours. And when these discovered the truth they would be hot upon atrail where concealment was impossible. The only hope of escape, andthat far from brilliant, --as he remembered the long desert ride fromthe distant cow-camp on the Cimarron, --lay in immediate departure. Every moment of delay served to increase their peril. Even beyond thedanger of Dupont's report to Black Kettle, this snow-bound valley wasnot so far away from that chief's camp as to be safe from invasion byyoung warriors in search of game. All this flashed upon Hamlin'sconsciousness instantly, even as his heart thrilled to her frank avowal. 

"This is so strange I can hardly realize the truth, " he said gravely. "But, dear one, we must talk elsewhere, and not here. Life was neverbefore worth so much as it is now, and every instant we waste here maymean capture and death. Come, there are two ponies at the mouth of thevalley. "

He snatched up the blanket from the ground, and wrapped it about her insuch manner as to enable her to walk; stooped over Hughes, loosened therevolver from his stiffened fingers, and then came back to where shewaited. 

"You can walk? It is not far. "

"Yes, the numbness is all gone. "

He was all seriousness now, alert and watchful, the plainsman and thesoldier. 

"Then come; I'll break trail. "

"Where is the Indian village?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. 

"Beyond those bluffs; at least Hughes thought so. We saw their ponyherd in the valley below, mere dots against the snow. "

Ten minutes later, ploughing through the intervening drifts, they cameforth to the broad vista of the valley and the two patient poniesstanding motionless. 

CHAPTER XXXIII

MOLLY'S STORY

The two rode steadily, following the trail left by Hamlin and Hughesearlier in the morning. As there had been no wind, and the cold hadcrusted the snow, the tracks left by the two ponies were easilyfollowed. As they skirted the ridge the Indian pony herd could bedistinguished, sufficiently close by this time to leave no doubt as towhat they were. Hamlin cautiously kept back out of sight in the breaksof the ridge, although his keen eyes, searching the upper valley, discovered no sign of pursuit. Tired as Dupont's horse undoubtedlywas, he might not yet have attained the Indian encampment, which, intruth, might be much farther away than Hughes had supposed. The factthat no spirals of smoke were visible puzzled the Sergeant, for in thatfrosty air they should naturally be perceived for a considerabledistance. Possibly, however, the bluffs were higher and more abrupt, farther up stream, affording better chances of concealment. Indeed itwas quite probable that the Indians would seek the most sheltered spotavailable for their winter camp, irrespective of any possible fear ofattack. Reasonably safe from a winter campaign, the atrocities of thepast summer would naturally tend to make them unusually cautious andwatchful. 

Molly, muffled to the eyes in her thick blanket, permitted her pony tofollow the other without guidance, until they both dipped down into thehollow, safe from any possible observation. In some mysterious way theoverpowering feeling of terror which had controlled her for days pasthad departed. The mere presence of Hamlin was an assurance of safety. As she watched him, erect in saddle, his blue overcoat tightlybuttoned, his revolver belt strapped outside, she no longer felt anyconsciousness of the surrounding desolation, or the nearness of savagefoes. Her heart beat fast and her cheeks flushed in memory of what hadso swiftly occurred between them. Without thought, or struggle, shegave herself unreservedly to his guidance, serenely confident in hispower to succeed. He was a man so strong, so resourceful, so fitted tothe environment, that her trust in him was unquestioned. She needed toask nothing; was content to follow in silence. Even as she realizedthe completeness of her surrender, the Sergeant, relaxing none of hiswatchfulness, checked his pony so that they could ride onward side byside. 

"We will follow the trail back, " he explained, glancing aside at herface. "It is easier to follow than to strike out for ourselves acrossthe open. "

"Where does it lead?"

"To an old cow-camp on the Cimarron. There is a trooper there waiting. Shall I tell you the story?"

"I wish you would. "

"And then I am to have yours in return--everything?"

"Yes, " she said, and their eyes met. "There is nothing toconceal--from you. "

He told his tale simply, and in few words; how he had missed, andsought after her in Dodge; how that searching had led directly to thediscovery of crime, and finally the revealment of Major McDonald'sbody. He told of his efforts at organizing a party to follow thefugitives, inspired by a belief that she was a prisoner, of the tripthrough the blizzard, and of how he had succeeded in outstrippingDupont in the race. 

The girl listened silently, able from her own experience to fill in thedetails of that relentless pursuit, which could not be halted either bystorm or bullets. The strength, the determination of the man, appealedto her with new force, and tears welled into her eyes. 

"Why, you are crying!" he exclaimed in surprise. 

"That is nothing, " her lips smiling, as she loosened one hand from theblanket and reached across to clasp his. "You must know, dear, howhappy I am to have found you. No one else could have done this. "

"Oh, yes, little girl, " soberly. "Wasson would have gone on, if I hadbeen the one to go down. The hardest part of it all was waiting forthe storm to cease, not knowing where you were hidden--that nearlydrove me insane. "

"I understand; uncertainty is harder to bear than anything else. ShallI tell you now what happened to me?"

"Yes, " tenderly, "as much, or as little as you please. "

"Then it shall be everything, dear, " her hand-grasp tightening. Amoment she hesitated, looking out across the snow plains, and then backinto his eyes. From their expression she gained courage to proceed, her voice low, yet clear enough to make every syllable distinctlyaudible. 

"I--I was frightened when you left me alone on the balcony, and went into confront Mrs. Dupont. I knew the woman and suspected that she wouldonly be too glad to find some indiscretion she could use against me. It occurred to me that possibly she had seen me enter the parlor andwas there herself to make sure. If so, she would hesitate at no trickto verify her suspicions. This thought so took possession of me that Idetermined to escape if possible. And it appeared easy ofaccomplishment. There was but a short drop to the ground, while a fewsteps around the end of the hotel would bring me safely to the frontentrance. The temptation to try was irresistible. I heard your voiceswithin and thought I understood her game. It was dark below, yet Iknew how close the earth was, and there was no sign of any one about. I clambered over the railing, let myself down as far as I could, anddropped. The slight fall did not even jar me, yet I was none too soon. As I crouched there in the darkness, she flung open the curtains, andlooked out on to the vacant balcony. I saw the flash of light, andheard her laugh--it was not pleasant laughter, for she was disappointednot to find me there. After the curtains fell again I could no longerhear your voices, and my sole desire was to get back into the hotelunobserved. I was not afraid, only I dreaded to meet any one who mightrecognize me. "

She paused in her recital, as though to recall more clearly the exactfacts, the two riding forward, Hamlin leaning over toward her, occasionally glancing watchfully behind. 

"The guests were already beginning to straggle back to the dance hallfrom supper, and I waited in the shadow of the building for anopportunity to slip into the hotel unobserved. While I hid there acavalry soldier from the fort rode up, swung down from his saddle, andran up the steps. I heard him ask for Major McDonald. Almostimmediately he came out again, and I passed him on the porch. Justinside the door I met my father. He was leaving the hotel with Dupont, and the latter swore savagely when I caught my father's arm, askingwhat message the orderly had brought. He answered strangely, saying hehad received orders to go at once to Ripley on the stage; that he mightbe gone several days. There was nothing about all that to startle asoldier's daughter, but Dupont kept his hand on my father's arm, urginghim to hurry. The actions of the man aroused my suspicions. I knew myfather was acting paymaster, and I could perceive the outlines of aleather bag bulging beneath his overcoat. If this contained money, then I grasped Dupont's purpose. My plan of action occurred to me in aflash--I would accompany him until--until he was safely in the stage, and find opportunity to whisper warning. I remember asking him to waita moment for me, and rushing to the cloak room after my coat. But whenI returned they were gone. I ran out into the street, but they werenot to be seen; they had not gone toward the stage office, for thelights revealed that distance clearly, and they had had no time inwhich to disappear within. With the one thought that Dupont had luredmy father out of sight for purposes of robbery, I started to run downthe little alley-way next the hotel. I know now how foolish I was, butthen I was reckless. It was dark and I saw and heard nothing to warnme of danger. It was in my mind that my father had been lured on tothe open prairie behind the hotel. Suddenly I was seized roughly, anda cloth whipped over my face before I could even scream. I heard avoice say: 'Damned if it ain't the girl! What will we do with her?'and then Dupont's voice answered gruffly: 'Hell, there ain't anythingto do, but take the little hussy along. She 'd queer the whole game, an' we 've got an extra horse. They jerked me forward so roughly, andI was so frightened that--that I must have fainted. At any rate Iremember nothing more distinctly until we had crossed the river, and Iwas on horseback wrapped in a blanket, and tied to the saddle. Someone was holding me erect; I could not move my arms, but could see andhear. It was dark, and we were moving slowly; there were two Indiansahead, and a white man riding each side of me. They thought meunconscious still, and spoke occasionally; little by little Irecognized their voices, and understood their words. "

Her voice broke into a sob, but the Sergeant's eyes were still gazingvigilantly out over the snow-clad hills. 

"It is hard to tell the rest, " she said finally, "but I learned that itwas not robbery, but the betrayal of trust. My father was guilty, andyet at the same time a victim. I only got the truth in snatches, whichI had to piece together, although later I learned other details. Mrs. Dupont had bled my father through some knowledge she had gained of hissister's family. I cannot even imagine what this could have been, butit was sufficient for her purpose. He gave her all he had, andthen--then she heard of this government money being sent to Ripley. She had known about that for several days through the Lieutenant, andhad ample time to arrange the plot. My father must have been crazy tohave entered into the scheme, but he did, he did. The woman compelledhim to it. "

"I understand, Molly, " broke in Hamlin, anxious to spare her thedetails. "They were to pretend robbery, but with the Major'sconnivance. An officer impersonating him was despatched to Ripley bystage. This would prevent any immediate pursuit. Later the Major wasto be released, to return to Dodge with his story. The projection ofyourself into the affair disarranged the entire plot, and then aquarrel occurred, and your father was killed. "

"Yes; it was over what should be done with me; although I believe nowthey intended to kill him, so as to retain all the money. The olderIndian fired the shot treacherously. "

"And Connors?"

"Dupont killed him; they were both drunk, and the soldier fired first, but missed. "

"And after that?"

She covered her face with her hands. 

"It was all a dream of continuous horror, yet through it all, I do notrecall consciousness of physical torture. I seemed to be mentallynumbed, my brain a blank. It was a realization of my father's guiltmore than my own danger which affected me--that and his death. Theywere not unkind nor brutal. Indeed I do not clearly recall that I waseven spoken to, except when some necessary order was given. One nightI heard them discuss what should be done with me; that I was to behidden away in Black Kettle's camp. Generally Dupont spoke to theIndians in their own tongue, but that night he thought me asleep. I--Ihad no hope left--not even faith that you could ever rescue me. "

Hamlin's hand clasped hers firmly, but his eyes were riveted onsomething in the distance. 

"Wait, " he said, checking his horse, "what is that? See; down in thevalley of the creek! Is it not a moving body of men?"

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE ADVANCE OF CUSTER

The Sergeant swung down from the saddle and forced both ponies backbelow the crest of the hill, his swift glance sweeping back over theirtrail. Then he gazed again searchingly into the valley below. 

"What is it?" she questioned. 

"A moving column of horsemen, soldiers from their formation, forIndians never march in column of fours. They are too far away for meto be certain yet. What troops can be away out here?"

"Wasn't there to be a winter campaign against Black Kettle?" shequestioned. "It was the rumor at Dodge. Perhaps--"

"Why, yes, that must be it, " he interrupted eagerly. "Custer and theSeventh. What luck! And I'll be in it with the boys after all. "

"Shall we not ride to meet them?"

"Soon, yes; only we need to be certain first. "

"Are you not?" and she rose in her stirrups. "I am sure they arecavalrymen. Now you can see clearly as they climb the hill. "

"There is no doubt, " he admitted, "a single troop ahead of the mainbody; the others will be beyond the bend in the stream. "

He stepped back, where he could look directly into her face. 

"They are soldiers all right, but that was not what I wanted to be socertain about. When we ride down there, Molly girl, we shall beswallowed up into the old life once more, the old army life. "

"Yes. "

"Perhaps you do not realize how different it will all be from out herealone together. "

"Why should it be different?"

"I shall be again a soldier in the ranks, under orders, and you MajorMcDonald's daughter. "

"But--but--" her eyes full of appeal. 

"No, little girl, " he explained quickly, reaching up and touching hergently; "we are never going to say anything about that to those downthere--his comrades in arms. It is going to be our secret. I am gladyou told me; it has brought us together as, perhaps, nothing elsecould, but there is no reason why the world should ever know. Let themthink he died defending his trust. Perhaps he did; what you overheardmight have been said for a purpose, but, even if it were true, he hadbeen driven to it by a merciless woman. It is ours to defend, notblacken his memory. "

She bent slowly down until her cheek touched his. 

"I--I thought you would say that, " she returned slowly, "but what elseyou said is not so--there will never again be a barrier of rank betweenus. " She straightened in the saddle, looking down into his eyes. "Whoever the officer may be in command of that detachment, I want youto tell him all. "

"All?"

"Yes, that we are engaged; I am proud to have them know. "

The truth was shining in her eyes, glowing on her cheeks. She leanedforward. 

"Kiss me, and believe!"

"Molly, Molly, " he whispered. "Never will I doubt again. "

They could perceive the blue of the overcoats as they rode over theridge, and at their sudden appearance the little column of horsemencame to a halt. Hamlin flung up one hand in signal, and the two urgedtheir ponies down the side of the hill. Three men spurred forth tomeet them, spreading out slightly as though still suspicious of sometrick, but, as they drew near, the leader suddenly waved his hand, andthey dashed forward. 

"Hamlin! Glad to see you again, " the first rider greeted the Sergeantcordially. "Can this be Major McDonald's daughter. "

"Yes, Major Elliott; I can repeat the story as we ride along, sir. Youare the advance of Custer's expedition, I presume?"

"We are; the others are some miles behind, moving slowly so that thewagons can keep within touch. Wonderful the way those wagons havepushed ahead over the rough country. Have only missed camp twice sincewe left Dodge. "

"When was that, sir?"

"Before the blizzard all except your troop were at Camp Supply; theyhad joined since, and it was then we heard about your trip down here. What became of your men, Sergeant?"

"Wasson and one private were killed, sir; the other private was frozenso badly I had to leave him in shelter on the Cimarron. "

"By gad, it sounds interesting; and so you tackled the villains alone, and had some fight at that before rescuing Miss McDonald. Well, thestory will keep until we make camp again. However, " and he bent lowover the lady's hand, "I must congratulate Miss McDonald on herescaping without any serious injury. "

"That is not all I should be congratulated upon, Major Elliott, " shesaid quietly. 

"No--eh--perhaps I do not understand. "

"I desire that you shall; I refer to my engagement to Sergeant Hamlin. "

The officer glanced in some bewilderment from her face to that of thesilent trooper. 

"You--you mean matrimonial?" he stammered, plainly embarrassed, unableso suddenly to grasp the peculiar situation. "Hamlin, what--what doesthis mean?"

"Miss Molly and I have known each other for some time, " explained theSergeant bluntly. "Out here alone we discovered we were more thanfriends. That is all, sir. "

For an instant Elliott hesitated, held by the strange etiquette ofrank, then the gentleman conquered the soldier, and he drew off hisglove, and held out his hand. 

"I can congratulate you, Miss McDonald, " he exclaimed frankly. "I haveknown Sergeant Hamlin for two years; he is a soldier and a gentleman. "

The red blood swept into her cheeks, her eyes brightening. 

"He is my soldier, " she replied softly, "and the man I love. "

They rode together down the steep hillside covered with its mantle ofsnow to join the little body of troopers halted in the valley. Onlyonce did Elliott speak. 

"You know Black Kettle's camp, Sergeant?"

"We were almost within sight of it, sir. I saw his pony herddistinctly. "

"Where was that?"

"On the Canadian, close to the mouth of Buffalo Creek. "

"Did you learn anything as to the number of Indians with him?"

"Nothing definite, but it is a large encampment, not all Cheyennes. "

"So we heard, but were unable to discover the exact situation. We havebeen feeling our way forward cautiously. I fear it is going to be myunpleasant duty to separate you and Miss McDonald. We shall need yourservices as guide, and the lady will be far better off with the maincolumn. Indeed some of the empty wagons are to be sent back to CampSupply to-night, and probably Custer will deem it best that she returnwith them. This winter campaigning is going to be rough work, outsideof the fighting. You know Custer, and his style; besides Sheridan ishimself at Camp Supply in command. "

"You hear, Molly?"

"Yes; of course, I will do whatever General Custer deems best. Arethere any women at Camp Supply, Major?"

"Yes, a few; camp women mostly, although there may be also an officer'swife or two--19th Kansas volunteers. "

"Then it will be best for me to go there, if I can, " she smiled. "I amdesperately in need of clothes. "

"I suspected as much. I will arrange to give you a guard at once. Andyou, Sergeant? As you are still under special orders, I presume I haveno authority to detain you in my command. "

"I prefer to remain, sir, " grimly. "Dupont, Miss McDonald's captor, isalive and in Black Kettle's camp. We still have a feud to settle. "

"Good; then that is arranged; ah, Miss McDonald, allow me to presentLieutenant Chambers. Lieutenant, detail three men to guard the ladyback to the main column. Have her taken to General Custer at once. "

"Very well, sir; and the command?"

Elliott looked at the Sergeant inquiringly. 

"That is for Sergeant Hamlin to determine; he has just been scoutingthrough that country, and will act as guide. "

The Sergeant stood for a moment motionless beside his horse studyingthe vista of snow-draped hillside. The region beyond the crest of theridge unrolled before his memory. 

"Then we will keep directly on up this valley, sir, " he said at last. "It's Wolf Creek, is it not? We shall be safer to keep out of sightto-day, and this depression must lead toward the Canadian. May Iexchange mounts with one of those men going back, Major? I fear mypony is about done. "

"Certainly. "

There was no opportunity for anything save a simple grasp of the hand, ere Molly rode away with her escort. Then the little column oftroopers moved on, and Hamlin, glancing backward as he rode past, tookhis place in advance beside Major Elliott. 

CHAPTER XXXV

THE INDIAN TRAIL

The weather became colder as the day advanced. Scattered pellets ofsnow in the air lashed the faces of the troopers, who rode steadilyforward, the capes of their overcoats thrown over their heads forprotection. The snow of the late storm lay in drifts along the banksof the narrow stream, and the horses picked their passage higher upwhere the wind had swept the brown earth clear, at the same timekeeping well below the crest. As they thus toiled slowly forward, Hamlin related his story to the Major in detail, carefully concealingall suspicion of McDonald's connection with the crime. It was growingdusk when the company emerged into the valley of the Canadian. Allabout them was desolation and silence, and as they were still milesaway from the position assigned for Black Kettle's encampment, the menwere permitted to build fires and prepare a warm meal under shelter ofthe bluffs. Two hours later the main column arrived and also went intocamp. It was intensely cold but the men were cheerful as they atetheir supper of smoky and half-roasted buffalo meat, bacon, hard-tack, and coffee. 

In response to orders the Sergeant went down the line of tiny fires toreport in person to Custer. He found that commander ensconced in asmall tent, hastily erected in a little grove of cottonwoods, whichafforded a slight protection from the piercing wind. Before him on theground from which the snow had been swept lay a map of the region, while all about, pressed tightly into the narrow quarters, were histroop officers. As Hamlin was announced by the orderly, conversationceased, and Custer surveyed the newcomer an instant in silence. 

"Step forward, Sergeant, " he said quietly. "Ah, yes; I had forgottenyour name, but remember your face, " he smiled about on the group. "Wehave been so scattered since our organization, gentlemen, that we areall comparative strangers. " He stood up, lifting in one hand a tin cupof coffee. "Gentlemen, all we of the Seventh rejoice in the honor ofthe service, whether it be upheld by officer or enlisted man. I bidyou drink a toast with me to Sergeant Hamlin. "

"But, General, I have done nothing to deserve--"

"Observe the modesty of a real hero. Yet wait until I am through. With due regard for his achievements as a soldier, I propose this toastin commemoration of a greater deed of gallantry than those of arms--thecapture of Miss Molly McDonald!"

There was a quick uplifting of cups, a burst of laughter, and a volleyof questions, the Sergeant staring about motionless, his face flushed. 

"What is it, General?"

"Tell us the story!"

"Give us the joke!"

"But I assure you it is no joke. I have it direct from the fair lipsof the lady. Brace yourselves, gentlemen, for the shock. You youngWest Pointers lose, and yet the honor remains with the regiment. MissMolly McDonald, the toast of old Fort Dodge, whose bright eyes have wonall your hearts, has given hers to Sergeant Hamlin of the Seventh. Andnow again, boys, to the honor of the regiment!"

Out of the buzz of conversation and the hearty words of congratulation, Hamlin emerged bewildered, finding himself again facing Custer, whosemanner had as swiftly changed into the brusque note of command. 

"I have met you before, Sergeant, " he said slowly, "before yourassignment to the Seventh, I think. I am not sure where; were you inthe Shenandoah?"

"I was, sir. "

"At Winchester?"

"I saw you first at Cedar Creek, General Custer; I brought a flag. "

"That's it; I have the incident clearly before me now. You were alieutenant-colonel?"

"Of the Fourth Texas, sir. "

"Exactly; I think I heard later--but never mind that now. Sheridanremembers you; he even mentioned your name to me a few weeks ago. Nodoubt that was what caused me to recognize your face again after allthese years. How long have you been in our service?"

"Ever since the war closed. "

For a moment the two men looked into each others' faces, the commandersmiling, the enlisted man at respectful attention. 

"I will talk with you at some future time, Sergeant, " Custer said atlast, resuming his seat on a log. "Now we shall have to consider theto-morrow's march. Were you within sight of Black Kettle's camp?"

"No, sir; only of his pony herd out in the valley of the Canadian. "

"Where would you suppose the camp situated?"

"Above, behind the bluffs, about the mouth of Buffalo Creek. "

Custer drew the map toward him, scrutinizing it carefully. 

"You may be right, of course, " he commented, his glance on the faces ofthe officers, "but this does not agree with the understanding at CampSupply, nor the report of our Indian scouts. We supposed Black Kettleto be farther south on the Washita. How large was the pony herd?"

"We were not near enough to count the animals, sir, but there must havebeen two hundred head. "

"A large party then, at least. What do you say, Corbin?"

The scout addressed, conspicuous in his buffalo skin coat, leanedagainst the tent-pole, his black whiskers moving industriously as hechewed. 

"Wal, Gineral, " he said slowly, "I know this yere 'Brick' Hamlin, an'he 's a right smart plainsman, sojer 'er no sojer. If he says he sawthet pony herd, then he sure did. Thet means a considerable bunch o'Injuns thar, er tharabouts. Now I know Black Kettle's outfit is downon the Washita, so the only conclusion is that this yere band thet theSergeant stirred up is some new tribe er other, a-driftin' down frumthe north. I reckon if we ride up ther valley we 'll hit their trail, an' it 'll lead straight down to them Cheyennes. "

Custer took time to consider this explanation, spreading the field mapout on his knees, and measuring the distance between the streams. Noone in the little group spoke, although several leaned forward eagerly. The chief was not a man to ask advice; he preferred to decide forhimself. Suddenly he straightened up and threw back his head to lookabout. 

"In my judgment Corbin is right, gentlemen, " he said impetuously. "Ihad intended crossing here, but instead we will go further up stream. There is doubtless a ford near Buffalo Creek, and if we can strike anIndian trail leading to the Washita, we can follow easily by night, orday, and it is bound to terminate at Black Kettle's camp. Return toyour troops, and be ready to march at daybreak. Major Elliott, youwill take the advance again, at least three hours ahead of the maincolumn. Move with caution, your flankers well out; both Hamlin andCorbin will go with you. Are there any questions?"

"Full field equipment?" asked a voice. 

"Certainly, although in case of going into action the overcoats will bediscarded. Look over your ammunition carefully to-night. "

They filed out of the tent one by one, some of the older officerspausing a moment to speak with Hamlin, his own captain extending hishand cordially, with a warm word of commendation. The Sergeant andMajor Elliott alone remained. 

"If I strike a fresh trail, General, " asked the latter, "am I to pressforward or wait for the main body?"

"Send back a courier at once, but advance cautiously, careful not toexpose yourselves. There is to be no attack except in surprise, andwith full force. This is important, Major, as we are doubtlessoutnumbered, ten to one. Was there something else, Sergeant?"

"I was going to ask about Miss McDonald, sir. "

"Oh, yes; she is safely on her way to Camp Supply, under ample guard. The convoy was to stop on the Cimarron, and pick up the frozen soldieryou left there, and if possible, find the bodies of the two dead men. "

Long before daylight Elliott's advance camp was under arms, the chilledand sleepy troopers moving forward through the drifted snow of thenorth bank; the wintry wind, sweeping down the valley, stung theirfaces and benumbed their bodies. The night had been cold and blustery, productive of little comfort to either man or beast, but hope of earlyaction animated the troopers and made them oblivious to hardship. There was little grumbling in the ranks, and by daybreak the head ofthe long column came opposite the opening into the valley whereinHamlin had overtaken the fugitives. With Corbin beside him, theSergeant spurred his pony aside, but there was little to see; thebodies of the dead lay as they had fallen, black blotches on the snow, but there were no fresh trails to show that either Dupont, or anyIndian ally, had returned to the spot. 

"That's evidence enough, 'Brick, '" commented the scout, staring aboutwarily, "that thar wus no permanent camp over thar, " waving his handtoward the crest of the ridge. "Them redskins was on the march, an'that geezer had ter follow 'em, er else starve ter death. He 'd a binback afore this, an' on yer trail with a bunch o' young bucks. "

From the top of the ridge they could look down on the toiling column ofcavalrymen below in the bluff shadow, and gaze off over the wideexpanse of valley, through which ran the half-frozen Canadian. Everywhere stretched the white, wintry desolation. 

"Whar wus thet pony herd?"

Hamlin pointed up the valley to the place where the swerve came in thestream. 

"Just below that point; do you see where the wind has swept the groundbare?"

"Sure they were n't buffalo?"

"They were ponies all right, and herded. "

The two men spurred back across the hills, and made report to Elliott. There was no hesitancy in that officer. The leading squadron wasinstantly swung into formation as skirmishers, and sent forward. Fromriver-bank to crest of bluff they ploughed through the drifts, overcoats strapped behind and carbines flung forward in readiness foraction, but as they climbed to that topmost ridge, eager, expectant, itwas only to gaze down upon a deserted camp, trampled snow, andblackened embers of numerous fires. Hamlin was the first to scrambledown the steep bluff, dismount, and drag his trembling horse slidingafter. Behind plunged Corbin and Elliott, anxious to read the signs, to open the pages of this wilderness book. A glance here and there, atesting of the blackened embers, a few steps along the broad trail, andthese plainsmen knew the story. The Major straightened up, his hand onhis horse's neck, his eyes sweeping those barren plains to thesouthward, and then turned to where his troopers were swarming down thebluff. 

"Corbin, " he said sharply, "ride back to General Custer at top speed. Tell him we have discovered a Cheyenne camp here at the mouth ofBuffalo Creek of not less than a hundred and fifty warriors, deserted, and not to exceed twenty-four horses. Their trail leads south towardthe Washita. Report that we shall cross the river in pursuit at once, and keep on cautiously until dark. Take a man with you; no, notSergeant Hamlin, I shall need him here. "

The scout was off like a shot, riding straight down the valley, atrooper pounding along behind him. Major Elliott ran his eyes over thelittle bunch of cavalrymen. 

"Captain Sparling, send two of your men to test the depth or waterthere where those Indians crossed. As soon as ascertained we will fordthe river. "

CHAPTER XXXVI

READY TO ATTACK

There was a ford but it was rocky and dangerous, and so narrow thathorse after horse slipped aside into the swift current, bearing hisrider with him into the icy water. Comrades hauled the unfortunateones forth, and fires were hastily built under shelter of the southbank. Those who reached the landing dry shared their extra clothingwith those water-soaked, and hot coffee was hastily served to allalike. Eager as the men were to push forward, more than an hour waslost in passage, for the stream was bank full, the current rapid andlittered with quantities of floating ice. Some of these ice cakesstartled the struggling horses and inflicted painful wounds, and it wasonly by a free use of ropes and lariats that the entire command finallysucceeded in attaining the southern shore. Shivering with the cold, the troopers again found their saddles and pressed grimly forward onthe trail. Hamlin, with five others, led the way along a beaten trackwhich had been trampled by the passing herd of Indian ponies andplainly marked by the trailing poles of numerous wicky-ups. 

This led straight away into the south across the valley of theCanadian, on to the plains beyond. The snow here was a foot deep on alevel, and in places the going was heavy. As they advanced, theweather moderated somewhat, and the upper crust became soft. Beforethem stretched the dreary level of the plains, broken by occasionalravines and little isolated patches of trees. No sign of Indians wasseen other than the-deserted trail, and confident that the band had hadfully twenty-four hours' start their pursuers advanced as rapidly asthe ground would permit. The very clearness of the trail was evidencethat the Indians had no conception that they were being followed. Confident of safety in their winter retreat, they were making no effortto protect their rear, never dreaming there were soldiers withinhundreds of miles. Whatever report Dupont had made, it had awakened noalarm. Why should it? So far as he knew there were but two menpursuing him into the wilderness, and both of these he believed lyingdead in the snow. 

Steadily, mile after mile, they rode, and it was after dark when thelittle column was finally halted beside a stream, where they couldsafely hide themselves in a patch of timber. Tiny fires were builtunder protection of the steep banks of the creek, and the men madecoffee, and fed their hungry horses. The silence was profound. It wasa dark night, although the surrounding snow plains yielded a spectrallight. Major Elliott, drinking coffee and munching hard-tack with thetroop captain, sent for Sergeant Hamlin. 

The latter advanced within the glow of the fire, and saluted. 

"We have been gaining on those fellows, Sergeant, " the Major began, "and must be drawing close to the Washita. "

"We are travelling faster than they did, sir, " was the reply, "becausethey had to break trail, and there were some women and children withthem. I have no knowledge of this region, but the creek empties intothe Washita without doubt. "

"That would be my judgment. Sparling and I were just talking it over. I shall wait here until Custer comes up; my force is too small toattack openly, and my orders are not to bring on an engagement. Custerhas some Osage scouts with him who will know this country. "

"But, Major, " ventured Hamlin, "if the General follows our trail itwill be hours yet before he can reach here, and then his men will becompletely exhausted. "

"He will not follow our trail. He has Corbin and 'California Joe' withhim. They are plainsmen who know their business. He 'll cross theCanadian, and strike out across the plains to intercept us. In thatway he will have no farther to travel than we have had. In my judgmentwe shall not wait here long alone. Have you eaten?"

"No, sir; I have been stationing the guard. "

"Then sit down here and share what little we have. We can waiveformality to-night. "

It was after nine o'clock when the sentries challenged the advance ofCuster's column, as it stole silently out of the gloom. Ten minuteslater the men were hovering about the fires, absorbing such smallcomforts as were possible, while the General and Major Elliottdiscussed the situation and planned to push forward. An hour later thefires were extinguished, the horses quietly saddled, and noiselesslythe tired cavalrymen moved out once more and took up the trail. Themoon had risen, lighting up the desert, and the Osage guides, togetherwith the two scouts, led the way. At Custer's request Hamlin rodebeside him in lead of the troopers. Not a word was spoken above awhisper, and strict orders were passed down the line prohibiting thelighting of a match or the smoking of a pipe. Canteens were muffledand swords thrust securely under saddle flaps. Like a body of spectresthey moved silently across the snow in the moonlight, cavalry capesdrawn over their heads, the only sound the crunching of horses' hoofsbreaking through the crust. 

The trail was as distinct as a road, and the guides pushed ahead asrapidly as by daylight, yet with ever increasing caution. Suddenly oneof the Osages signalled for a halt, averring that he smelled fire. Thescouts dismounted and crept forward, discovering a small campfire, deserted but still smouldering, in a strip of timber. Carefulexamination made it certain that this fire must have been kindled byIndian boys, herding ponies during the day, and probably meant that thevillage was very close at hand. The Osage guides and the two whitescouts again picked up the trail, the cavalry advancing slowly somedistance behind. Custer, accompanied by Hamlin, rode a yard to therear and joined the scouts, who were cautiously feeling their way up aslight declivity. 

The Osage in advance crept through the snow to the crest of the ridgeand looked carefully down into the valley below. Instantly his handwent up in a gesture of caution and he hurriedly made his cautious wayback to where Custer sat his horse waiting. 

"What is it? What did you see?"

"Heap Injuns down there!"

The General swung down from his saddle, motioned the Sergeant tofollow, and the two men crept to the crest and looked over. The dimmoonlight was confusing, while the shadow of timber rendered everythingindistinct. Yet they were able to make out a herd of ponies, distinguished the distant bark of a dog and the tinkle of a bell. Without question this was the Indians' winter camp, and they hadreached it undiscovered. Custer glanced at his watch--the hour waspast midnight. He pressed Hamlin's sleeve, his lips close to theSergeant's ear. 

"Creep back, and bring my officers up here, " he whispered. "Have themtake off their sabres. "

As they crept, one after the other, to where he lay in the snow, theGeneral, whose eyes had become accustomed to the moon-gleam, pointedout the location of the village and such natural surroundings as couldbe vaguely distinguished. The situation thus outlined in their minds, they drew silently back from the crest, leaving there a single Osageguide on guard, and returned to the waiting regiment, standing to horseless than a mile distant. Custer's orders for immediate attack cameswiftly, and Hamlin, acting as his orderly, bore them to the severalcommands. The entire force was slightly in excess of eight hundredmen, and there was every probability that the Indians outnumbered themfive to one. Scouts had reported to Sheridan that this camp of BlackKettle's was the winter rendezvous not only of Cheyennes, but also ofbands of fighting Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and even some Apaches, the most daring and desperate warriors of the plains. Yet this was notime to hesitate, to debate; it was a moment for decisive action. Theblow must be struck at once, before daylight, with all the power ofsurprise. 

The little body of cavalrymen was divided into four detachments. Twoof these were at once marched to the left, circling the villagesilently in the darkness, and taking up a position at the fartherextremity. A third detachment moved to the right, and found their waydown into the valley, where they lay concealed in a strip of timber. Custer, with the fourth detachment under his own command, remained inposition on the trail. The sleeping village was thus completelysurrounded, and the orders were for those in command of the differentforces to approach as closely as possible without running risk ofdiscovery, and then to remain absolutely quiet until daybreak. Not amatch was to be lighted nor a shot fired until the charge was soundedby the trumpeter who remained with Custer. Then all were to spurforward as one man. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE BATTLE WITH THE INDIANS

Corbin had gone with the detachment circling to the left, and"California Joe" was with the other in the valley, but Hamlin remainedwith the chief. About them was profound silence, the men standingbeside their horses. There was nothing to do but wait, every nerve athigh tension. The wintry air grew colder, but the troopers were notallowed to make the slightest noise, not even to swing their arms orstamp their feet. After the last detachment swept silently out intothe night, there still remained four hours until daylight. No one knewwhat had occurred; the various troops had melted away into the dark anddisappeared. No word, no sound had come back. They could only wait infaith on their comrades. The men were dismounted, each one holding hisown horse in instant readiness for action. Not a few, wearied with theday's work, while still clinging to their bridles, wrapped the capes oftheir overcoats over their heads and threw themselves down in the snow, and fell asleep. 

At the first sight of dawn Hamlin was sent down the line to arousethem. Overcoats were taken off, and strapped to the saddles, carbinesloaded and slung, pistols examined and loosened in their holsters, saddles recinched, and curb chains carefully looked after. This wasthe work of but a few moments, the half-frozen soldiers moving with aneagerness that sent the hot blood coursing fiercely through numbedlimbs. To the whispered command to mount, running from lip to lipalong the line, the men sprang joyously into their saddles, theirquickened ears and eager eyes ready for the signal. 

Slowly, at a walk, Custer led them forward toward the crest of thehill, where the Osage guide watched through the spectral light of dawnthe doomed village beneath. To the uplift of a hand the column halted, and Custer and his bugler went forward. A step behind crouched theSergeant, grasping the reins of three horses, while a little to theright, beyond the sweep of the coming charge, waited the regimentalband. 

Peering over the crest, the leader saw through the dim haze, scarcelyfive hundred yards distant, dotting the north bank of the Washita formore than a quarter of a mile, the Indian village. There was about itscarcely a sign of human life. From the top of two or three of thetepees light wreaths of smoke floated languidly out on the wintry air, and beyond the pony herd was restlessly moving. Even as he gazed, halfconvinced that the Indians had been warned, the village deserted, thesharp report of a rifle rang out in the distance. 

Hamlin saw the General spring upright, his lips uttering the sharpcommand, "_Sound the charge!_" Even while the piercing blare of thebugle cut the frosty air, there was a jingle of steel as the troopersbehind spurred forward. Almost at the instant the three dismounted menwere in saddle. Custer waved his hand at the band, shouted "Play!" andto the rollicking air of "Garry Owen, " the eager column of horsemenbroke into a mad gallop, and with ringing cheers and mighty rush, sweptover the ridge straight down into the startled village. To Hamlin, atCuster's side, reins in his teeth, a revolver in either hand, whatfollowed was scarcely a memory. It remained afterward as a blurred, indistinct picture of action, changing so rapidly as to leave nodefinite outlines. He heard the answering call of three bugles; thedeafening thud of horses' hoofs; the converging cheers of excitedtroopers; the mingling ring of revolver shots; a sharp order cleavingthe turmoil; the wild neigh of a stricken horse; the guttural yells ofIndians leaping from their tepees into the open. Then he was in theheart of the village, firing with both hands; before him, about him, half-naked savages fighting desperately, striking at him with knives, firing from the shelter of tepees, springing at him with naked hands ina fierce effort to drag him from the saddle. It was all confusion, chaos, a babble of noise, his eyes blinded by glint of steel and glareof fire. The impetus of their rush carried them irresistibly forward;over and through tents they rode, across the bodies of living and dead;men reeled and fell from saddle; riderless horses swept on unguided;revolvers emptied were flung aside, and hands closed hard on sabrehilts. Foot by foot, yard by yard, they drove the wedge of theircharge, until they swept through the fringe of tepees, out into thestampeded pony herd. 

The bugle rang again, and they turned, facing back, and charged oncemore, no longer in close formation, but every trooper fighting as hecould. Complete as the surprise had been, the men of the Seventhrealized now the odds against them, the desperate nature of the fight. Out from the sheltering tepees poured a flood of warriors; rifles inhand they fought savagely. The screams of women and children, thehowling and baying of Indian dogs, the crack of rifles, the wild warcries, all mingled into an indescribable din. Black Kettle was almostthe first to fall, but other chiefs rallied their warriors, and foughtlike fiends, yielding ground only by inches, until they found shelteramid the trees, and under the river bank. 

In the cessation of hand to hand fighting the detachments cametogether, reforming their ranks, and reloading their arms. Squads oftroopers fired the tepees, and gathering their prisoners under guard, hastened back to the ranks again at the call of the bugle. By nowCuster comprehended his desperate position, and the full strength ofhis Indian foes. Fresh hordes were before him, already threateningattack. Hamlin, bleeding from two flesh wounds, rode in from the leftflank where he had been borne by the impetus of the last charge, withfull knowledge of the truth. Their attack had been centred on BlackKettle's village, but below, a mile or two apart, were other villages, representing all the hostile tribes of the southern plains. Alreadythese were hurrying up to join those rallying warriors under shelter ofthe river bank. Even from where Custer stood at the outskirts of thedevastated village he could distinguish the warbonnets of Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas and Comanches mingled together in display of savagery. 

His decision was instant, that of the impetuous cavalry leader, knowingwell the inherent strength and weakness of his branch of the service. He could not hope to hold his position before such a mass of the enemy, with the little force at his disposal. His only chance of escape, tocome off victor, was to strike them so swiftly and with such force asto paralyze pursuit. Already the reinforcing warriors were sweepingforward to attack, two thousand strong, led fiercely by Little Raven, an Arapahoe; Santanta, a Kiowa, and Little Rock, a Cheyenne. Dismounting his men he prepared for a desperate resistance, althoughthe troopers' ammunition was running low. Suddenly, crashing throughthe very Indian lines, came a four-mule wagon. The quartermaster wason the box, driving recklessly. Only Hamlin and a dozen other men werestill in saddle. Without orders they dashed forward, spurring maddenedhorses into the ranks of the Indians, hurling them left and right, firing into infuriated red faces, and slashing about with drippingsabres. Into the lane thus formed sprang the tortured mules, sweepingon with their precious load of ammunition. Behind closed in the squadof rescuers, struggling for their lives amid a horde of savages. Then, with one wild shout, the dismounted troopers leaped to the rescue, hurling back the disorganized Indian mass, and dragging their comradesfrom the rout. It was hand to hand, clubbed carbine against knife andspear, a fierce, breathless struggle. Behind eager hands ripped openthe ammunition cases; cartridges were jammed into empty guns, and asecond line of fighting men leaped forward, their front tipped withfire. 

Dragged from his horse at the first fierce shock, his revolver empty, his broken sabre a jagged piece of steel, Hamlin hacked his way throughthe first line of warriors, and found refuge behind a dead horse. Here, with two others, he made a stand, gripping a carbine. It was allthe work of a moment. About him were skurrying figures, infuriatedfaces, threatening weapons, yells of agony, cries of rage. The threefought like fiends, standing back to back, and striking blindly atleaping bodies and clutching hands. Out of the mist, the mad confusionof breathless combat, one face alone seemed to confront the Sergeant. At first it was a delirium; then it became a reality. He saw theshagginess of a buffalo coat, the gleam of a white face. All elsevanished in a fierce desire to kill. He leaped forward, crazed withsudden hate, hurled aside the naked bodies in the path, and sent hiswhirling carbine stock crashing at Dupont. Even as it struck he fell, clutched by gripping hands, and over all rang out the cheer of thecharging troopers. Hamlin staggered to his knees, spent andbreathless, and smiled grimly down at the dead white man in that ringof red. 

It was over, yet that little body of troopers dared not remain. Aboutthem still, although demoralized and defeated, circled an overwhelmingmass of savages capable of crushing them to death, when they againrallied and consolidated. Custer did the only thing possible. Turningloose the pony herd, gathering his captives close, he swung his compactcommand into marching column. Before the scattered tribes could rallyfor a second attack, with flankers out, and skirmishers in advance, thecavalrymen rode straight down the valley toward the retreatinghostiles. It was a bold and desperate move, the commander's objectbeing to impress upon the Indian chiefs the thought of his utterfearlessness, and to create the impression that the Seventh would neverdare such a thing if they did not have a larger force behind. Withflags unfurled, and the band playing, the troopers swept on. The verymad audacity of the movement struck terror into the hearts of thewarriors, and they broke and fled. As darkness fell the survivors ofthe Seventh rode alone, amid the silent desolation of the plains. 

Halting a moment for rest under shelter of the river bank, Custerhastily wrote his report and sent for Hamlin. The latter approachedand stood motionless in the red glare of the single camp-fire. Theimpetuous commander glanced up inquiringly. 

"Sergeant, I must send a messenger to Camp Supply. Are you fit to go?"

"As much so as any one, General Custer, " was the quiet response. "Ihave no wounds of consequence. "

"Very well. Take the freshest horse in the command, and an Osageguide. You know the country, but he will be of assistance. I havewritten a very brief report; you are to tell Sheridan personally theentire story. We shall rest here two hours, and then proceed slowlyalong the trail. I anticipate no further serious fighting. You willdepart at once. "

"Very well, sir, " the Sergeant saluted, and turned away, halting aninstant to ask, "You have reported the losses, I presume?"

"Yes, the dead and wounded. There are some missing, who may yet comein. Major Elliott and fourteen others are still unaccounted for. " Hepaused. "By the way, Sergeant, while you are with Sheridan, explain tohim who you are--he may have news for you. Good-night, and good luck. "

He stood up and held out his hand. In surprise, his eyes suddenlyfilling with tears, Hamlin felt the grip of his fingers. Then heturned, unable to articulate a sentence, and strode away into the night. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

AT CAMP SUPPLY

There are yet living in that great Southwest those who will retell thestory of Hamlin's ride from the banks of the Washita to Camp Supply. It remains one of the epics of the plains, one of the proud traditionsof the army. To the man himself those hours of danger, struggle andweariness, were more a dream than a reality. He passed through themalmost unconsciously, a soldier performing his duty in utterforgetfulness of self, nerved by the discipline of years of service, bythe importance of his mission, and by memory of Molly McDonald. Loveand duty held him reeling in the saddle, brought him safely to thejourney's end. 

Let the details pass unwritten. Beneath the darkening skies of earlyevening, the Sergeant and the Osage guide rode forth into the peril andmystery of the shrouded desert. Beyond the outmost picket, moving assilently as two spectres, they found at last a coulee leading upwardfrom the valley to the plains above. To their left the Indian firesswept in half circle, and between were the dark outlines of savagefoes. From rock to rock echoed guttural voices, but, foot by foot, unnoted by the keen eyes, the two crept steadily on through themidnight of that sheltering ravine, dismounted, hands clasping thenostrils of their ponies, feeling through the darkness for each step, halting breathless at every crackle of a twig, every crunch of snowunder foot. Again and again they paused, silent, motionless, as someapparition of savagery outlined itself between them and the sky, yetslowly, steadily, every instinct of the plains exercised, they passedunseen. 

In the earliest gray of dawn the two wearied men crept out upon theupper plateau, dragging their horses. Behind, the mists of the nightstill hung heavy and dark over the valley, yet with a new sense offreedom they swung into their saddles, faced sternly the chill wind ofthe north, and rode forward across the desolate snow fields. It was noboys' play! The tough, half-broken Indian ponies kept steady stride, leaping the drifts, skimming rapidly along the bare hillsides. Fromdawn to dark scarcely a word was uttered. By turns they slept in thesaddle, the one awake gripping the others' rein. Once, in a strip ofcottonwood, beside a frozen creek, they paused to light a fire and makea hasty meal. Then they were off again, facing the frosty air, ridingstraight into the north. Before them stretched the barren snow-cladsteppes, forlorn and shelterless, with scarcely a mark of guidanceanywhere, a dismal wilderness, intersected by gloomy ravines and frozencreeks. Here and there a river, the water icy cold and covered withfloating ice, barred their passage; down in the valleys the driftedsnow turned them aside. Again and again the struggling poniesfloundered to their ears, or slid head-long down some steep declivity. Twice Hamlin was thrown, and once the Osage was crushed betweenfloating cakes and submerged in the icy stream. Across the openbarrens swept the wind into their faces, a ceaseless buffeting, chilling to the marrow; their eyes burned in the snow-glare. Yet theyrode on and on, voiceless, suffering in the grim silence of despair, fit denizens of that scene of utter desolation. 

At the Cimarron the half-frozen Indian collapsed, falling from hissaddle into the snow utterly exhausted. Staggering himself like adrunken man, the Sergeant dragged the nerveless body into a crevice ofthe bluff out of the wild sweep of the wind, trampled aside the snowinto a wall of shelter, built a hasty fire, and poured hot coffeebetween the shivering lips. With the earliest gray of another dawn, the white man caught the strongest pony, and rode on alone. He neverknew the story of those hours--only that his trail led straight intothe north. He rode erect at first, then leaning forward clinging tothe mane; now and then he staggered along on foot dragging his pony bythe rein. Once he stopped to eat, breaking the ice in a creek forwater. It began to snow, the thick fall of flakes blotting out thehorizon, leaving him to stumble blindly through the murk. Thendarkness came, wrapping him in a cloak of silence in the midst of thatunspeakable desert. His limbs stiffened, his brain reeled from intensefatigue. He dragged himself back into the saddle, pressing the ponyinto a slow trot. Suddenly out of the wall of gloom sprang the yellowlights of Camp Supply. Beneath these winking eyes of guidance thereburst the red glare of a fire. Even as he saw it the pony fell, butthe exhausted man had forgotten now everything but duty. The knowledgethat he had won the long struggle brought him new strength. Hewrenched his feet free from the stirrups, and ran forward, calling tothe guard. They met him, and he stood straight before them, everynerve taut--a soldier. 

"I bring despatches from Custer, " he said slowly, holding himself firm. "Take me to General Sheridan. "

The corporal walked beside him, down the trampled road, questioningeagerly as they passed the line of shacks toward the double log housewhere the commander was quartered. Hamlin heard, and answered briefly, yet was conscious only of an effort to retain his strength. Oncewithin, he saw only the short, sturdy figure sitting behind a table, the shaggy gray beard, the stern, questioning eyes which surveyed him. He stood there straight, motionless, his uniform powdered with snow, his teeth clinched so as not to betray weakness, his face roughened byexposure, grimy with dirt, and disfigured by a week's growth of beard. Sheridan stared at him, shading his eyes from the glow of the lamp. 

"You are from Custer?"

"Yes, sir. "

He drew the papers from within his overcoat, stepped forward and laidthem on the table. Sheridan placed one hand upon them, but did notremove his gaze from Hamlin's face. 

"When did you leave?"

"The evening of the 27th, sir. I was sent back with an Osage guide tobring you this report. "

"And the guide?"

"He gave out on the Cimarron and I came on alone. "

"And Custer? Did he strike Black Kettle?"

"We found his camp the evening of the 26th, and attacked at daybreakthe next morning. There were more Indians with him than we expected tofind--between two and three thousand, warriors from all the southerntribes. Their tepees were set up for ten miles along the Washita. Wecaptured Black Kettle's village, and destroyed it; took his pony herd, and released a number of white prisoners, including some women andchildren. There was a sharp fight, and we lost quite a few men; I lefttoo early to learn how many. "

"And the command--is it in any danger?"

"I think not, sir. General Custer was confident he could retiresafely. The Indians were thoroughly whipped, and apparently had nochief under whom they could rally. "

The General opened the single sheet of paper, and ran his eyes slowlydown the lines of writing. Hamlin, feeling his head reel giddily, reached out silently and grasped the back of a chair in support. Sheridan glanced up. 

"General Custer reports Major Elliott as missing and several officersbadly wounded. "

"Yes, sir. "

"What Indians were engaged, and under what chiefs?"

"Mostly Cheyennes, although there were bands of Arapahoes, Kiowas, Comanches, and a few Apaches. Little Rock was in command after BlackKettle was killed--that is of the Cheyennes. Little Raven, andSantanta led the others. "

"A fiend, that last. But, Sergeant, you are exhausted. I will talkwith you to-morrow. The officer of the day will assign you quarters. "

Hamlin, still clinging to the chair with one hand, lifted the other insalute. 

"General Sheridan, " he said, striving to control his voice, "GeneralCuster's last words to me were that I was to tell you who I am. I donot know what he meant, but he said you would have news for me. "

"Indeed!" in surprise, stiffening in his chair. 

"Yes, sir--my name is Hamlin. "

"Hamlin! Hamlin!" the General repeated the word. "I have norecollection--why, yes, by Gad! You were a Confederate colonel. "

"Fourth Texas Infantry. "

"That's it! I have it now; you were court-martialed after the affairat Fisher's Hill, and dismissed from the service--disobedience oforders, or something like that. Wait a minute. "

He rapped sharply on the table, and the door behind, leading into theother room, instantly opened to admit the orderly. In the dim light ofthe single lamp Hamlin saw the short, stocky figure of a soldier, bearded, and immaculately clean. Even as the fellow's gloved hand camesharply up to his cap visor, Sheridan snapped out:

"Orderly, see if you recognize this man. "

Erect, the very impersonation of military discipline, the soldiercrossed the room, and stared into the unshaven face of the Sergeant. Suddenly his eyes brightened, and he wheeled about as if on a pivot, again bringing his gloved hand up in salute. 

"Eet vas Colonel Hamlin, I tink ya, " he said in strong German accent. "I know heem. "

The Sergeant gripped his arm, bringing his face about once more. 

"You are Shultz--Sergeant-Major Shultz!" he cried. "What ever becameof you? What is it you know?"

"Wait a minute, Hamlin, " said Sheridan quickly, rising to his feet. "Ican explain this much better than that Dutchman. He means well enough, but his tongue twists. It seems Custer met you once in the Shenandoah, and later heard of your dismissal from the service. One night he spokeabout the affair in my quarters. Shultz was present on duty andoverheard. He spoke up like a little man; said he was there when yougot your orders, that they were delivered verbally by the staffofficer, and he repeated them for us word for word. He was takenprisoner an hour later, and never heard of your court-martial. Is thatit, Shultz?"

"Mine Gott, ya; I sa dot alreatty, " fervently. "He tell you notreconnoisance--_charge_! I heard eet twice. Gott in Himmel, vat ahell in der pines!"

"Hamlin, " continued Sheridan quietly, "there is little enough we can doto right this wrong. There is no way in which that Confederatecourt-martial can be reconvened. But I shall have Shultz's depositiontaken and scattered broadcast. We will clear your name of stain. Whatbecame of that cowardly cur who lied?"

Hamlin pressed one hand against his throbbing temples, strugglingagainst the faintness which threatened mastery. 

"He--he paid for it, sir, " he managed to say. "He--he died three daysago in Black Kettle's camp. "

"You got him!"

"Yes--I--I got him. "

"I have forgotten--what was the coward's name?"

"Eugene Le Fevre, but in Kansas they called him Dupont. "

"Dupont! Dupont!" Sheridan struck the table with his closed fist. "Good Lord, man! Not the husband of that woman who ran off withLieutenant Gaskins, from Dodge?"

"I--I never heard--"

The room whirled before him in mist, the faces vanished; he heard anexclamation from Shultz, a sharp command from Sheridan, and then seemedto crumble up on the floor. There was the sharp rustle of a woman'sskirt, a quick, light step, the pressure of an arm beneath his head. 

"Quick, orderly, he 's fainted, " it was the General's voice, soundingafar off. "Get some brandy, Shultz. Here, Miss McDonald, let me holdthe man's head. "

She turned slightly, her soft hand pressing back the hair from Hamlin'sforehead. 

"No, " she protested firmly, "he is my soldier. "

And the Sergeant, looking past the face of the girl he loved saw tearsdimming the stern eyes of his commander. 

THE END