its ears, and poured forth a song of triumph, a loud, exultant bray.

Crack! Will's rifle. Down went the mule. It had made the fatal mistake
of gloating over its villainy. Never again would it jeopardize the life
of a rider.

It had been a thirty-five-mile walk, and every bone in Will's body
ached. His shot alarmed the garrison, but he was soon on the ground with
the explanation; and after turning over his dispatches, he sought his
bed.

During the day General Hazen returned, under escort, from Fort Harker,
with dispatches for Sheridan, and Will offered to be the bearer of them.
An army mule was suggested, but he declined to again put his life in the
keeping of such an animal. A good horse was selected, and the journey
made without incident.

General Sheridan was roused at daylight to receive the scout's report
and praised Will warmly for having undertaken and safely accomplished
three such long and dangerous rides.

"In all," says General Sheridan, in his Memoirs, "Cody rode three
hundred and fifty miles in less than sixty hours, and such an exhibition
of endurance and courage was more than enough to convince me that his
services would be extremely valuable in the campaign; so I retained him
at Fort Hayes until the battalion of Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then
made him chief of scouts for that regiment."