round the rifle-pits taking observations. Presently he returned,
leading Dandy up near the fire,--the one sheltered light that was
permitted.

"Looks fine as silk, don't he?" he said, smoothing his pet's glossy neck
and shoulder, for Ray's groom had no article of religion which took
precedence over the duty he owed the lieutenant's horse, and no sooner
was the sun down than he had been grooming him as though still in
garrison. "Give him all the oats you can steal, Hogan; some of the men
must have a hatful left."

Wayne looked up startled.

"Ray, I can't let you go!"

"There's no helping it. Some one _must_ go, and who can you send?"

Even there the captain noted the grammatical eccentricity. What was
surprising was that even there he made no comment thereon. He was
silent. Ray had spoken truth. There was no one whom he could order to
risk death in breaking his way out since the scout had said 'twas
useless. There were brave men there who would gladly try it had they any
skill in such matters, but that was lacking. "If any man in the command
could 'make it,' that man was Ray." He was cool, daring, keen; he was
their best and lightest rider, and no one so well know the country or
better knew the Cheyennes. Wayne even wished that Ray might volunteer.
There was only this about it,--the men would lose much of their grit
with him away. They swore by him, and felt safe when he was there to
lead or encourage. But the matter was settled by Ray himself. He was
already stripping for the race.

"Get those shoes off," he said to the farrier, who came at his bidding,
and Dandy wonderingly looked up from the gunny-sack of oats in which he
had buried his nozzle. "What on earth could that blacksmith mean by
tugging out his shoe-nails?" was his reflection, though, like the
philosopher he was, he gave more thought to his oats,--an unaccustomed
luxury just then.

There seemed nothing to be said by anybody. Wayne rose painfully to his
feet. Hunter stood in silence by, and a few men grouped themselves
around the little knot of officers. Ray had taken off his belt and was
poking out the carbine-cartridges from the loops,--there were not over
ten. Then he drew the revolver, carefully examined the chambers to see
that all were filled; motioned with his hand to those on the ground,
saying, quietly, "Pick those up. Y'all may need every one of 'em." The
Blue Grass dialect seemed cropping out the stronger for his
preoccupation. "Got any sp