hand cordially, with a warm word of commendation. The Sergeant and
Major Elliott alone remained.

"If I strike a fresh trail, General," asked the latter, "am I to press
forward or wait for the main body?"

"Send back a courier at once, but advance cautiously, careful not to
expose yourselves. There is to be no attack except in surprise, and
with full force. This is important, Major, as we are doubtless
outnumbered, ten to one. Was there something else, Sergeant?"

"I was going to ask about Miss McDonald, sir."

"Oh, yes; she is safely on her way to Camp Supply, under ample guard.
The convoy was to stop on the Cimarron, and pick up the frozen soldier
you left there, and if possible, find the bodies of the two dead men."


Long before daylight Elliott's advance camp was under arms, the chilled
and sleepy troopers moving forward through the drifted snow of the
north bank; the wintry wind, sweeping down the valley, stung their
faces and benumbed their bodies. The night had been cold and blustery,
productive of little comfort to either man or beast, but hope of early
action animated the troopers and made them oblivious to hardship.
There was little grumbling in the ranks, and by daybreak the head of
the long column came opposite the opening into the valley wherein
Hamlin had overtaken the fugitives. With Corbin beside him, the
Sergeant spurred his pony aside, but there was little to see; the
bodies of the dead lay as they had fallen, black blotches on the snow,
but there were no fresh trails to show that either Dupont, or any