duty at the post. When the
major again came forth his field glasses were in his hand and he had
hurried down the steps and out into the broad sheen of the moonlight
when he caught sight of the courier seated on the horseblock at the
gate, wearily leaning his head upon his gauntleted hand. Webb stopped
short:

"Come right in here, my lad," he cried, "I want to speak with you," and,
followed slowly by the soldier, he entered his parlor, and whirled an
easy chair in front of the open fireplace. "Sit right down there now,
and I'll be with you in a minute," he added; bustled into the rear room
and presently reappeared with a decanter and glass; poured out a stiff
tot of Monongahela; "A little water?" he asked, as the trooper's eye
brightened gratefully. A little water was added and off came the right
hand gauntlet. "I drink the major's health and long life to him," said
the soldier, gulping down the fluid without so much as a wink. Then,
true to his training, set down the glass and stood strictly at
attention.

"You've had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, I'll be bound," said
Webb. "Now, I've got to see some of my officers at once. You make
yourself at home here. You'll find cold beef, bread, cheese, pickles,
milk, if you care for it, and pie right there in the pantry. Take the
lamp in with you and help yourself. If you want another nip, there's the
decanter. You've made splendid time. Did you meet no Indians?"

"Not one, sir, but I saw smokes at sunset out toward Eagle Butte."

"Your name--I see you belong to Captain Truscott's troop."

"Kennedy, sir; and I thank the major."

"Then I'll leave you in charge until you've had your fill," said the
commander. "Then go over to 'F' Troop's quarters and get a bed. Tell
anybody who comes I've gone to the flagstaff." With that the major
stalked from the room, followed by the Irishman's adoring eyes. A moment
later he stood by the tall white staff at the edge of the northward
bluff, at whose feet the river swept by in musical murmurings. There he
quickly focussed his glass, and gazed away westward up the Platte to
where but the evening before a score of Indian lodges dotted the other
bank, perhaps two miles away. The September moon was at its full and, in
that rare, cloudless atmosphere, flooding the valley with its soft,
silvery light so that close at hand, within the limits of the garrison,
every object could be almost as distinctly seen as in broad day-light,
but, far