drawl between puffs. "There's a lot o' folks that don't know nothin'
'bout Injuns, that has a lot o' 'pinions concernin' 'em," he said. "They
say you've got t' live with a feller t' know him, but that ain't so. You
c'n find out a lot by fightin' him. That's how I got my feelin' for
Injuns, an' it's th' kind you have for a good fighter."

The incident with Dorgan seemed to have passed from his mind, though
Whitey had lived long enough in the West to know that tragedy had
lurked near. The old puncher leaned back, his hands behind his head, and
puffed clouds of smoke into the air. He looked at the smoke as though he
saw pictures in it. Then he carefully threw the cigarette down and
ground his heel into it. As the other men had remained silent while he
was talking to Dorgan, they remained silent now.

He was a product of an epic time in the West, a time when the others had
been boys. Naturally a quiet man, he had had little to say. He also was
known as a dangerous man, and when a quiet and dangerous man seems
inclined to talk, it is sometimes worth while to wait. Instead of
speaking, he rolled another cigarette, and again looked into the smoke.

But presently the old puncher awoke from his dream and looked at the
surrounding faces, some coarse, some wicked, but all attentive, all
plainly inviting him to talk.

"Yes, sir, a feller that was in th' Seventh Cavalry, in th' old days,
got a good many lessons 'bout Injuns," he began. "An' if you like, I c'n
tell you some things 'bout th' biggest Injun fight that ever happened
in these parts, 'cause I was there."

So he told the story, and I shall leave out the questions with which it
was interrupted.

CHAPTER XX

THE STORY OF THE CUSTER FIGHT

"You know my bein' with Major Reno is why I'm able t' tell this story,
'cause all th' Old Man's outfit--'Old Man' bein' what we called General
Custer--was wiped out.

"Us soldiers didn't know all th' ins an' outs o' what was goin' on, but
we did know that th' Old Man was a whole lot dissatisfied. There'd bin a
lot o' talk 'bout him havin' gone t' Washington, an' havin' a talk with
President Grant, at which interview, so 'twas said, th' President'd told
him th' first duty of a soldier was obedience, but we didn't know
nothin' 'bout that--whether 'twas true or 'twasn't true. All we knowed
was that he was away a long time, an' when he come back he sure had fire
in his eye.

"General Terry was in command at old Fort Buford,