tal, Kennedy soused his hot head in the cooling
waters of their frontier lavatory and was off like a shot to the
stables.

It was long before he found his horse, for the guard had taken Kilmaine
to "F" Troop's stables, and Kennedy had been housed by "K." It was
longer still before he could persuade the guard that he "had a right,"
as he put it, to ride after the major. Not until Captain Dade had been
consulted would they let him go. Not, indeed, until in person Kennedy
had pleaded his cause with that cool-headed commander. Dade noted the
flushed and swollen face, but reasoned that nothing would more speedily
shake the whiskey from his system than a long gallop in that glorious
air and sunshine. "Major Webb is following the trail of Captain Ray,"
said he. "You follow the major's. You can't miss him, and there are no
more Indians now to interpose. You should catch him by noon--then give
him this."

"This" was a copy of a late despatch just in from Laramie, saying that
the revolt had reached the Sioux at the agencies and reservations on the
White Earth, and would demand the attention of every man at the post. No
reinforcement, therefore, could be looked for from that quarter until
the general came. It was no surprise to Dade. It could be none to Webb,
for old Red Cloud had ever been an enemy, even when bribed and petted
and fed and coddled in his village on the Wakpa Schicha. His nephew led
the bolt afield. No wonder the old war chief backed him with abundant
food, ammunition and eager warriors sent "from home."

But it was after eleven when Kennedy drove his still wearied horse
through the Platte and, far to the north, saw the dun dust cloud that
told where Webb's little column was trotting hard to the support of the
sorrels. His head was aching and he missed the morning draught of
soldier coffee. He had eaten nothing since his cold lunch at the
major's, and would have been wise had he gone to Mistress McGann and
begged a cup of the fragrant Java with which she had stimulated her
docile master ere he rode forth, but the one idea uppermost in Kennedy's
muddled brain was that the sorrels were trapped by the Sioux and every
trooper was needed to save them. At three in the morning he felt equal
to fighting the whole Sioux nation, with all its dozen tribes and
dialects. At 3:30 he had been whipped to a stand by just one of their
number, and, "Mother av Moses," one that spoke English as well, or as
ill, as any man in the ---