icious
one."

Early that night there came a sudden alarm, followed by two rifle shots
in quick succession. At once there was a commotion, and everybody sprang
to his post.

"The Indians and desperadoes must be coming!" cried Joe, and ran for the
rifle with which he had been armed.

The cause of the alarm, however, was not from without, but from within.
Bicker had forced his way out of the guardhouse, and at the risk of
breaking his neck had climbed to the roof of the barn and leaped over
the stockade into the ditch outside.

A guard had seen the leap and had fired on the man, hitting him, it was
thought, in the shoulder. Then a second guard had discharged his weapon,
but by this time the fleeing prisoner had been swallowed up in the
gathering darkness.

"He must not get away!" cried the young captain. "If he does, they will
attack us at once. After him, Benson, and you, too, Forshew and
Donaldson. I will follow with some horses!"

Without delay the old scout climbed the stockade and scrambled over the
ditch. The others ran around to the gate, and soon several additional
soldiers followed. On second thought Captain Moore sent the horses out
by a lieutenant, thinking it best that he remain where he was, that
being primarily his post of duty.

"Can we go?" asked Joe.

"No, Joe, stay where you are," said his brother. "If that rascal gets to
his friends there will be work enough here, never fear."

The pursuit of Bicker lasted for over an hour, and brought on a smart
skirmish between the men from the fort and the desperadoes, in which one
person on each side was slightly wounded. But the rascal managed to gain
the enemy's camp in safety, and then those from the fort came back as
fast as possible to report.

"Now the deception is up," said Captain Moore, with a serious look. "I
wouldn't be surprised to see them attack us before morning."

"Right you are, captain," replied old Benson, "and my opinion is, that
the desperadoes and Indians will fight hard, when once they get going,"
he concluded.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE DEMANDS OF THE ENEMY.

It was an hour later, when the excitement had cooled down a little, that
Captain Moore sent for Benson again. Wondering what was to follow, the
old scout hurried to the room in which the young commander was
transacting his business.

"I want a little talk with you in private, Benson," said the young
officer.

"Yes, captain."

"I know you've been wondering why I