e walls of the ranch. Strom, the proprietor, got out his
lantern and searched below the point where the little troop had turned
off. No recent hoof-track, southbound, was visible. "He couldn't have
come this far," said he. "Better put back!" Put back they did, and by
the aid of Hart's lantern found the fresh trail of a government-shod
horse, turning to the east nearly two miles toward home. Quirk said a
bad word or two; borrowed the lantern and thoughtfully included the
flask; bade his men follow in file and plunged through the underbrush
in dogged pursuit. Hart and his team now could not follow. They waited
over half an hour without sign or sound from the trailers, then drove
swiftly back to the post. There was a light in the telegraph office,
and thither Hart went in a hurry. Lieutenant Doty, combining the
duties of adjutant and officer of the day, was up and making the
rounds. The sentries had just called off three o'clock.

"Had your trouble for nothing, Hart," hailed the youngster cheerily.
"Where're the men?"

"Followed his trail--turned to the east three miles below here,"
answered the trader.

"Three miles _below_! Why, man, he wasn't below. He met them up Beaver
Creek, an' brought 'em in."

"Brought who in?" asked Hart, dropping his whip. "I don't understand."

"Why, the scouts, or runners! Wren sent 'em in. He's had a sharp fight
up the mountains beyond Snow Lake. Three men wounded. You couldn't
have gone a mile before Blakely led 'em across No. 4's post. Ahorah
and another chap--'Patchie-Mohaves. We clicked the news up to Prescott
over an hour ago."

The tin reflector at the office window threw the light of the
glass-framed candle straight upon Hart's rubicund face, and that face
was a study. He faltered a bit before he asked:

"Did Blakely seem all right?--not used up, I mean?"

"Seemed weak and tired, but the man is mad to go and join his troop
now--wants to go right out with Ahorah in the morning, and Captain
Cutler says no. Oh, they had quite a row!"

They had had rather more than quite a row, if truth were told. Doty
had heard only a bit of it. Cutler had been taken by surprise when the
Bugologist appeared, two strange, wiry Apaches at his heels, and at
first had contented himself with reading Wren's dispatch, repeating it
over the wires to Prescott. Then he turned on Blakely, silently,
wearily waiting, seated at Doty's desk, and on the two Apaches,
silently, stolidly waiting, squatted on the