In sullen silence he had passed his days, showing no sign of
recognition of any face among his guards until the morning Kennedy
appeared--all malice forgotten now that his would-be slayer was a
helpless prisoner, and therefore did the Irishman greet him jovially.
"That man would knife you if he had half a chance," said the sergeant.
"Watch out for him!"
"You bet I'll watch out," said Kennedy, never dreaming that, despite all
search and vigilance, Moreau had managed to obtain and hide a knife.
In silence they had shuffled forth into the corridor. The heavy portal
swung behind them, confining the other two. Another door opened into the
guardroom proper, where stood the big, red hot stove and where waited
two blacksmiths with the irons. Once in the guard room every window was
barred, and members of the guard, three deep, blocked in eager curiosity
the doorway leading to the outer air. In the corridor on one side stood
three infantry soldiers, with fixed bayonets. On the other, facing them,
three others of the guard. Between them shuffled the Sioux, "Wing"
leading. One glance at the waiting blacksmiths was enough. With the
spring of a tiger, he hurled himself, head foremost and bending low,
straight at the open doorway, and split his way through the astonished
guards like center rush at foot ball, scattering them right and left;
then darted round the corner of the guard-house, agile as a cat.
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