sibly excepted.

But what they thought, their liege lords stood ready to swear to; and it
was to them Webb turned in his perplexity when it became apparent that
his young adjutant was ensnared. It was to Ray he promptly opened his
heart, as that veteran of a dozen Indian campaigns, then drawing his
fourth "fogy," came hastening out to join the commander.

"Here's confirmation of the telegram. Read that, Ray," said Webb,
handing him the despatch from Fort Beecher. "Then come with me to
Field's. He's missing."

"Missing!" cried Ray, in consternation, as he hurriedly opened the page.
"In God's name what do you mean?"

"I mean he isn't in quarters and hasn't been in bed to-night. Now I need
him--and it's two o'clock."

Even as he spoke the voice of the sentry at the guard-house rang out the
watch call through the still and sparkling night. It was taken up by
Number Two back of the storehouses, and his "All's well" was still
echoing among the foothills, prolonged and powerful, when Number Three,
down at the quartermaster's corral, began his soldier song; and so,
alert, cheery, reassuring, the sentries sent their deep-voiced assurance
on its unbroken round to the waking guardian at the southwest angle, and
as his final "A-a-a-ll's W-e-ell" went rolling away over bluff and
stream and prairie, Ray lifted a grave and anxious face from the fateful
paper.

"Lame Wolf out? That's bad in itself! He's old Red Cloud's nephew and a
brute at best. Stabber's people there yet?" he suddenly asked, whirling
on his heel and gazing westward.

"Can't make out even with my glasses. All dark as pitch among the
cottonwoods, but Kennedy, who made the ride, says he saw smokes back of
Eagle Butte just before sunset."

"Then you can bet they won't be there at dawn--the warriors at least. Of
course the women, the kids and old men will stay if only for a blind. He
had forty fighting men, and Wolf's got at least two hundred. What
started the row?"

"The arrest of those two young bucks on charge of killing Finn, the
sheep herder, on the Piney last week. I don't believe the Sioux began
it. There's a bad lot among those damned rustlers," said Webb, snapping
the glass into its well-worn case. "But no matter who starts, we have to
finish it. Old Plodder is worried and wants help. Reckon I'll have to
send you, Ray."

"Ready whenever you say, sir," was the prompt and soldierly reply. Even
marriage had not taken the edge from Ray's keen zest for ca