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King, Charles, 1844-1933

"A Daughter of the Sioux A Tale of the Indian frontier"

It
was a moment that threatened panic, but Webb met the crisis with marked
aplomb.
"Oh, Field," he cried, "there's another matter. I want two good men to
slip out at once and see how many of Stabber's people start or have
started. It may be daybreak before they can tell. Sergeant Schreiber
would be a tiptop man for one--and little Duffy. You 'tend to it."
And so, mercifully, he sent the lad away until the crowd should have
dispersed. Only Blake and Ray were with him when, after awhile, Mr.
Field returned and stood silently before them. Well he knew that the
post commander could hardly overlook the absence of his adjutant at such
a time.
"Have you anything to tell me, Field?" was the major's only query, his
tone full of gentle yet grave reproach.
"I was restless. I could not sleep, sir. I went out--purposely."
"You know no horse can be taken from the stables at night except in
presence of the sergeant or corporal of the guard."
"I took none, sir," was the answer, and now both faces were white. "I
rode one of--Mr. Hay's."
For one moment there was no sound but the loud ticking of the big office
clock. Then came the question.
"Who rode the others, Field? The sentries say they heard three.


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