Slip out of
that hole and find Webber and tell him to come here--and you take his
burrow." Whereupon Hogan, grinning rueful acquiescence in his
commander's criticism, slid backwards into the stream bed and, followed
by the chaff of the three or four comrades near enough to catch the
words, went crouching from post to post in search of the desired
marksman.
"You used to be pretty sure with the carbine in the Tonto Basin when we
were after Apaches, sergeant," continued Ray, again peering through the
glasses. "I'm mistaken in this fellow if he doesn't ride well within
range, and we must make an example of him. I want four first class shots
to single him out."
"The lieutenant can beat the best I ever did, sir," said Winsor, with a
lift of the hand toward the hat brim, as though in apology, for Field,
silent throughout the brief conference, had half risen on his hands and
knees and was edging over to the left, apparently seeking to reach the
shelter of a little hummock close to the bank.
"Why, surely, Field," was the quick reply, as Ray turned toward his
junior. "That will make it complete."
[Illustration: "WITH ONE MAGNIFICENT RED ARM UPLIFTED."]
But a frantic burst of yells and war whoops out at the front put sudden
stop to the words.
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