s good-bye, the bugle
sounded the "Advance," and the troopers, moving four abreast--or, as a
soldier would have expressed it, in column of fours--rode out of the
gate. There they found Wentworth seated on a wiry little mustang, which
looked altogether too small to carry so heavy a rider. Recognizing
George, who rode by Captain Clinton's side, he gave him a friendly nod,
and without saying a word turned his horse and rode away, the troopers
following a short distance in his rear.

When soldiers are on the march and in no danger of immediate contact
with the enemy, they are allowed numerous privileges, of which the
troopers composing this particular scouting-party were not slow to avail
themselves. Some of them drew their pipes from their pockets and filled
up for a smoke, others threw one leg over the horns of their saddles and
rode sideways, "woman-fashion," and conversation became general all
along the line. But this talking and smoking did not interfere with
their marching, for they rode rapidly, and made such good progress that
by three o'clock in the afternoon they were within sight of the ruins of
Mr. Wentworth's ranche. And a sorry sight it was, too. Nothing but a
pile of blackened sun-dried bricks remained to mark the spot on which a
few days ago had stood a happy home. Household furniture of every
description was scattered around, but every article had been smashed
beyond all hope of repair. What the savages had not been able to carry
away with them they had ruthlessly destroyed. George did not wonder that
Mr. Wentworth felt vindictive. The man did not have a word to say, but
the expression that came to his face as he sat in his saddle gazing
sorrowfully at the ruins of his home spoke volumes.

When the troopers came within sight of the ranche, George discovered
that there was a horse staked out near the ruins, and that he had an
owner in the person of a tall, gaunt man, who rose from the ground and
rubbed his eyes as if he had just awakened from a sound sleep. His dress
was an odd mixture of the civilized and savage. He wore a pair of
infantryman's trousers, a rancheman's red shirt, and an Indian blanket
of the same color was thrown over his shoulders. His head was covered by
a Mexican sombrero, and his feet were protected by a pair of
gaudily-ornamented moccasins. While waiting for the troopers to come up
he filled a short black pipe and lighted it at the smoldering fire
beside which he had been sleeping.