broken out afresh in a trader's store. Two young men from the
opposing camps had quarrelled. They had drawn their knives, and each had
been wounded. These things were common talk, and Belle and Jim watched
the two chiefs ride toward the Crow camp with an eager curiosity to know
more about it. When the Red men were a mile away and within half a mile
of the Crow village, they followed at a good pace and reached the tepees
in the secluded corner in time to see the two visiting chiefs making an
address mainly by signs, as they sat on their horses. Chamreau was
there, and in answer to Jim's question translated Red Cloud's address to
the Crows thus:

"You make bad medicine so we lose race, we kill you." Then, indicating
Howling Bull, "He say, 'you make bad medicine, bring rain, I kill you.'"

Having delivered their ultimatum, the visiting chiefs turned haughtily
and rode to their own camp.

"I don't know just what they really did say," said Hartigan, "but if I'm
any judge of looks, there'll be trouble here if those Crows don't get
out."

* * * * *

It was four o'clock in the morning of the Fourth of July when the
thunderbolt struck Fort Ryan. It was not very loud; it damaged no
building; but it struck the very souls of men. A thousand thunder claps,
a year's tornadoes in an hour, could not have been more staggering; and
yet it was only four words of one poor, wheezing Irish hostler at the
Colonel's window:

"Colonel! Colonel! For the love of God--come--come--come at
once--_Blazing Star is gone!_"

"_What?_" and the Colonel sprang up.

The reveille had sounded, the men were just rising; but one group there
was already about the stable talking with an air of intense excitement.
The Colonel went without waiting to dress--the officer of the day with
him. In terrible silence they hurried to the stable; there was Rover in
his box, whinnying softly for his morning oats; but the next--the box of
Blazing Star--was empty; and the far end, the outer wall, showed a great
new doorway cut. Beyond, out in the growing light, troopers rode to
every near-by lookout; but never a sign of horse did they see, or,
indeed, expect to see. The case was very clear; the horse was stolen,
gone clean away--their hope for the race was gone.

These were terrible moments for the hapless grooms and guards. Human
nature, in dire defeat, always demands a victim; and the grooms were
glad to be locked up in the guard hou