Sergeant bluntly. "Out here alone we discovered we were more than
friends. That is all, sir."

For an instant Elliott hesitated, held by the strange etiquette of
rank, then the gentleman conquered the soldier, and he drew off his
glove, and held out his hand.

"I can congratulate you, Miss McDonald," he exclaimed frankly. "I have
known Sergeant Hamlin for two years; he is a soldier and a gentleman."

The red blood swept into her cheeks, her eyes brightening.

"He is my soldier," she replied softly, "and the man I love."

They rode together down the steep hillside covered with its mantle of
snow to join the little body of troopers halted in the valley. Only
once did Elliott speak.

"You know Black Kettle's camp, Sergeant?"

"We were almost within sight of it, sir. I saw his pony herd
distinctly."

"Where was that?"

"On the Canadian, close to the mouth of Buffalo Creek."

"Did you learn anything as to the number of Indians with him?"

"Nothing definite, but it is a large encampment, not all Cheyennes."