ked for additional men to
protect his little herd, for the sergeant in charge declared that,
twice, long-distance shots had come from far away up the bouldered
heights to the west. The daily mail service had been abandoned, so
nervous had the carrier become, and now, twice each week, a corporal
and two men rode the rugged trail, thus far without seeing a sign of
Apaches. The wire, too, was undisturbed, but an atmosphere of alarm
and dread clung about the scattered ranches even as far as the Agua
Fria to the west, and the few officials left at Prescott found it
impossible to reassure the settlers, who, quitting their new homes,
had either clustered about some favored ranch for general defense or,
"packing" to Fort Whipple, were clamoring there for protection with
which to return to and occupy their abandoned roofs.

And all this, said Byrne, between his set teeth, because a bumptious
agent sought to lay forceful hands upon the daughter of a chief. Poor
Daly! He had paid dearly for that essay. As for Natzie, and her shadow
Lola, neither one had been again seen. They might indeed have dropped
back from Montezuma Well after the first wild stampede, but only
fruitless search had the soldiers made for them. Even their own
people, said Bridger, at the agency, were either the biggest liars
that ever lived or the poorest trailers. The Apaches swore the girls
could not be found. "I'll bet Sergeant Shannon could nail them," said
Hart, the trader, when told of the general denial among the Indians.
But Shannon was far away from the field column, leading his moccasined
comrades afoot and in single file long, wearisome climbs up jagged
cliffs or through deep canons, where unquestionably the foe had been
in numbers but the day before, yet now they were gone. Shannon might
well be needed at the far front, now that most of the Apache scouts
had proved timid or worthless, but Byrne wished he had him closer
home.

It was the Saturday night following the coming of the runners with
confirmation of the grewsome Indian stories. Colonel Byrne, with
Graham, Cutler, and Westervelt, had been at the office half an hour in
consultation when, to the surprise of every soul at Sandy, a four-mule
team and Concord wagon came bowling briskly into the post, and Major
Plume, dust-covered and grave, marched into the midst of the
conference and briefly said: "Gentlemen, I return to resume command."

Nobody had a word to say beyond that of welcome. It was m