As soon as Leeson had gone the young captain summoned the surgeon and
told that individual about the drugged butter and condensed milk.

Dr. Nestor was incredulous, but on an examination said that all were
drugged. A cat that had drunk of the diluted condensed milk was found in
a stupor from which she could not be aroused.

"It's awful," said the surgeon.

A trustworthy cook was called in, and all the butter and condensed milk
which were open, or which showed signs of having been tampered with,
were thrown away.

This put the soldiers on short rations so far as these commodities went,
but nobody complained. Some suspected Bicker and Drossdell, and there
was talk of a demand on the captain to have the traitors shot, but it
came to nothing.

"What does this mean?" asked Joe, when he caught his brother in a quiet
spot.

In a few words the young captain explained.

"You and Darry must say nothing," he concluded. "We will have our hands
full as it is. The Indians are in this, but the drugging was not done by
Mose the half-breed."

"When will you signal to the enemy?" asked Darry.

"This afternoon at four. That will give us at least two whole days--and
a lot may happen in that time."

"If only the surgeon can bring some of the men out of their stupor,"
remarked Joe.

"He hopes to do so--now he knows more about the drugs used against
them."

"If you hadn't caught Bicker and Drossdell what do you suppose would
have happened?" questioned Darry.

"More than likely every one of us would have been sick," answered the
young captain with a shudder. "Then the Indians and the desperadoes
could have walked in here without a struggle."

"Even if help does not come, you'll fight them, won't you, Will?"

"To be sure--to the bitter end."

"By the way, are you certain the ammunition hasn't been tampered with?"
came from Joe.

"I was thinking of that and was going to have an examination made when
you stopped me," said Captain Moore, and hurried on.

An examination showed that some of the powder on the place had been
hidden. Drossdell said this was under the barn flooring, and his words
proved true.

Promptly at four o'clock Captain Moore appeared at the southwest corner
of the stockade with a red shirt in one hand and a blue shirt in the
other.

Fortunately he was built like Bicker, and donning a private's hat and
coat made him look a good deal like that individual from a distance.

Slowly he waved the coats to a