l in getting the order for him
against very active opposition. He had always professed the greatest
gratitude to me and a willingness to do anything for me. I wrote to him
in strict confidence, told him of the intimate and close relations
existing between the colonel's family and me, told him I wanted it to
enlarge and present to her mother on her approaching birthday, and
promised him that I would never reveal how I came by the picture so
long as I lived; and he sent me one,--just in time. Have I not paid
heavily for my sin?"

No one spoke for a moment. Chester was the first to break the silence:

"Poor fellow! He kept his word to the photographer; but what was it
worth to a woman?"

There had been a week of wild anxiety and excitement at Sibley. It was
known through the columns of the press that the regiment had hurried
forward from the railway the instant it reached the Colorado trail, that
it could not hope to get through to the valley of the Spirit Wolf
without a fight, and that the moment it succeeded in joining hands with
the cavalry already there a vigorous attack would be made on the
Indians. The news of the rescue of the survivors of Thornton's command
came first, and with it the tidings that Maynard and his regiment were
met only thirty miles from the scene and were pushing forward. The next
news came two days later, and a wail went up even while men were shaking
hands and rejoicing over the gallant fight that had been made, and women
were weeping for joy and thanking God that those whom they held dearest
were safe. It was down among the wives of the sergeants and other
veterans that the blow struck hardest at Sibley; for the stricken
officers were unmarried men, while among the rank and file there were
several who never came back to the little ones who bore their name.
Company B had suffered most, for the Indians had charged fiercely on its
deployed but steadfast line. Armitage almost choked and broke down when
telling the colonel about it that night as he lay under the willows: "It
was the first smile I had seen on his face since I got back,--that with
which he looked up in my eyes and whispered good-by,--and died,--just
after we drove them back. My turn came later." Old Sloat, too, "had his
customary crack," as he expressed it,--a shot through the wrist that
made him hop and swear savagely until some of the men got to laughing at
the comical figure he cut, and then he turned and damned them with
hearty