Down
came a dozen others, young braves mad for battle, eager to join the
ranks of this new leader, and Ray, who had turned on Field once more,
fixed his glasses on that stalwart, nearly stark naked, brilliantly
painted form, foremost of the Indian array and now at last in full and
unimpeded view.

"By the gods of war!" he cried. "I never saw that scoundrel before, but
if it isn't that renegade Red Fox--Why, here, Field! Take my glass and
look. You were with the commissioners' escort last year at the Black
Hills council. You must have seen him and heard him speak. Isn't this
Red Fox himself?"

And to Ray's surprise the young officer's eyes were averted, his face
pale and troubled, and the answer was a mere mumble--"I didn't meet
Fox--there, captain."

He never seemed to see the glass held out to him until Ray almost thrust
it into his hand and then persisted with his inquiry.

"Look at him anyhow. You may have seen him somewhere. Isn't that Red
Fox?"

And now Ray was gazing straight at Field's half hidden face. Field, the
soul of frankness hitherto, the lad who was never known to flinch from
the eyes of any man, but to answer such challenge with his own,--brave,
fearless, sometimes even defiant. Now he kept the big binocular fixed on
the distant hostile array, but his face was white, his hand unsteady and
his answer, when it came, was in a voice that Ray heard in mingled pain
and wonderment. Could it be that the lad was unnerved by the sight? In
any event, he seemed utterly unlike himself.

"I--cannot say, sir. It was dark--or night at all events,--the only time
I ever heard him."

CHAPTER XII

THE ORDEAL BY FIRE

That action had been resolved upon, and prompt action, was now apparent.
Stabber, fighting chief though he had been in the past, had had his
reason for opposing the plans of this new and vehement leader; but
public sentiment, stirred by vehement oratory, had overruled him, and he
had bolted the field convention in a fury. Lame Wolf, a younger chief
than Stabber, had yet more power among the Ogalallas, being Red Cloud's
favorite nephew, and among the Indians at least, his acknowledged
representative. Whenever called to account, however, for that nephew's
deeds, the wary old statesman promptly disavowed them. It was in search
of Lame Wolf, reasoned Ray, that Stabber had sped away, possibly hoping
to induce him to call off his followers. It was probably the deeper
strategy of Stabber to oppose