ition to talk upon
military matters. He took the young captain's hand, and said feebly:

"You must do your best, captain, do your best. Defend the place to the
last."

"I will, Colonel Fairfield," answered the young officer. "And I trust
you recover soon."

That day and the next passed without incident of a special nature. Sick
and wounded were cared for by the surgeon, and a detachment went out,
accompanied by Sam Benson and Hank Leeson, to look for any of the
soldiers who had been attacked by the Indians or desperadoes and who
might still be alive.

When this party returned they brought in the bodies of two soldiers that
had fallen.

"The Indians are gathering in force," said old Benson, who had been
right among them in the darkness. "There are now over a hundred and
twenty of them."

"And what of the desperadoes?" asked Captain Moore.

"The desperadoes number twenty-six," answered Hank Leeson. "I counted
noses myself. Matt Gilroy is a reg'lar captain over 'em an' has 'em
drilled like a company o' sharpshooters--an' I reckon thet's wot they
are, consarn 'em!"

"Then the enemy, all told, numbers about a hundred and fifty," mused the
young captain.

"How many men here fit for duty to-day, captain?" came from the old
scout.

"Not over forty, including the cooks and stable help, Benson. All the
others are on the sick list--and some of them are pretty bad."

"Perhaps the crowd outside are a-waitin' till ye all git sick,"
suggested Leeson with a scowl. "'Taint fair fightin', is it? They ought
all to be hung!"

"I must do my best," said Captain Moore gravely. "I can do no more."

As the day wore along and two additional soldiers were taken sick, he
decided to send a messenger to Fort Prescott, a hundred and sixty miles
away, for assistance.

Hank Leeson knew every foot of the territory, and was chosen for the
mission. Benson was more than willing to go, but Captain Moore told him
to remain where he was.

"If the enemy attack us you'll have to be our right-hand man, Benson,"
he said. Then he added: "I want to talk to you after Leeson is gone."

Since coming to the fort Captain Moore had been watching two old
soldiers very closely.

These soldiers were named Moses Bicker and Jack Drossdell. Their
reputations were not of the best, and the black marks against them were
numerous.

Some time before, the young captain had heard that Bicker came of a
family of Colorado desperadoes and that he had joined the