u. Take sixty men, two days' rations and a
hundred and fifty rounds of cartridges per man. Take blankets, ponchos
and shelter tents. Detail your men and be ready to march at the earliest
possible moment."

As the call for formation sounded Edwards uttered a fervent:

"Thank heaven!"

The hospital steward forced a draught of medicine down the wounded man's
throat.

Quickly the sixty men were detailed, those who had been on sick report
lately, or those who for any other reason were unfitted for a long,
swift march being rejected.

"Detachment, fall out," ordered Lieutenant Prescott. "Sergeant Overton,
see to the equipping of the men for this hike. Don't let any man idle
any time away. I'll soon be with you in barracks, for minutes may be
invaluable."

Edwards had fallen back once more, lying with his eyes closed. The
hospital steward, one hand on the wounded one's pulse, looked at Captain
Cortland and shook his head.

"Mr. Edwards," called the captain.

There was no answer.

"Is he dead?" asked the post commander in a low voice.

"No, sir, but he is unconscious and there's only a feeble flutter at the
pulse."

As if to prove that he was still conscious, Edwards's lips tried to
frame the words:

"Thank heav----"

A sigh, and Edwards's head sank forward on his chest.

"He's gone, sir; there's no pulse," said the hospital steward.

Edwards's brave mission was ended. He had carried the word of danger to
Fort Franklin, but he could not live to see the relief or vengeance
detail set out.

As soon as it was certain that the bookkeeper had really ceased to
breathe, Captain Cortland had the hospital steward summon men, who
carried the remains away.

From the portion of the barracks allotted to B Company there came hardly
a sound of unusual activity. Yet men were preparing for the "hike," as
the long, swift march is called, in record time.

"All ready in this room?" called Sergeant Hal at last.

A chorus of low-toned replies answered him.

"Tumble out, then, lively!"

An instant later the men hastened from other squad rooms. There was no
flourish of bugles this time. At a quietly spoken word the sixty men
fell in. Non-commissioned officers made a hasty inspection, while
Captain Cortland and Lieutenant Prescott glanced up and down the line
with keen eyes.

"March your detachment, Lieutenant," directed Captain Cortland, a minute
later.

"Twos right, route step, quick time--_march_!" called Lieutenant