ume
I must travel in uniform?"

He glanced up, his eyes quizzical, the pen still grasped in his fingers.

"I could never quite understand the eagerness of young officers to get
into civilian clothing," he confessed reflectively. "Why, I haven't
even had a suit for ten years. However, I can see no necessity for
your proclaiming your identity on the trip down. Indeed, it may prove
the safer course, and technically I presume you may be considered as on
furlough. Travel as you please, Lieutenant, but I suggest it will be
well to wear the uniform of your rank when you deliver the letters. Is
that all?"

"I think of nothing more."

Fifteen minutes sufficed to gather together all my belongings, and
change from blue into gray, and, as I emerged from quarters, the
officers of the garrison flocked about me with words of congratulation
and innumerable questions. Universal envy of my good fortune was
evident, but this assumed no unpleasant form, although much was said to
express their belief in my early return.

"Anyway, you are bound to wish you were back," exclaimed Hartley, the
senior captain, earnestly. "For we are going to be in the thick of it
here in less than a month, unless all signs fail. I was at that last
council, and I tell you that Sac devil means to fight."

"You may be certain I shall be back if he does," I answered. "But the
Major seems to believe that peace is still possible."

"No one really knows what he believes," insisted Hartley soberly.
"Those letters you carry south may contain the truth, but if I was in
command here we would never take the chances we do now. Look at those
stockade gates standing wide open, and only one sentry posted. Ye
gods! who would ever suppose we were just a handful of men in hostile
Indian territory." His voice increased in earnestness, his eyes
sweeping the group of faces. "I've been on this frontier for fourteen
years, and visited in Black Hawk's camp a dozen times. He's a British
Indian, and hates everything American. Ask Forsyth."

"The Indian agent?"

"Yes, he knows. He's already written Governor Reynolds, and I saw the
letter. His word is that Keokuk is powerless to hold back an
explosion; he and the Hawk are open enemies, and with the first advance
of settlers along the Rock River Valley this whole border is going to
be bathed in blood. And look what we've got to fight it with."

"Thockmorton told me," I explained, "that Atkinson is preparing to s