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King, Charles, 1844-1933

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

You were with the commissioners' escort last year at the Black
Hills council. You must have seen him and heard him speak. Isn't this
Red Fox himself?"
And to Ray's surprise the young officer's eyes were averted, his face
pale and troubled, and the answer was a mere mumble--"I didn't meet
Fox--there, captain."
He never seemed to see the glass held out to him until Ray almost thrust
it into his hand and then persisted with his inquiry.
"Look at him anyhow. You may have seen him somewhere. Isn't that Red
Fox?"
And now Ray was gazing straight at Field's half hidden face. Field, the
soul of frankness hitherto, the lad who was never known to flinch from
the eyes of any man, but to answer such challenge with his own,--brave,
fearless, sometimes even defiant. Now he kept the big binocular fixed on
the distant hostile array, but his face was white, his hand unsteady and
his answer, when it came, was in a voice that Ray heard in mingled pain
and wonderment. Could it be that the lad was unnerved by the sight? In
any event, he seemed utterly unlike himself.
"I--cannot say, sir. It was dark--or night at all events,--the only time
I ever heard him."


CHAPTER XII
THE ORDEAL BY FIRE

That action had been resolved upon, and prompt action, was now apparent.


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