file.

"Reg'lars, by gum!" ejaculated the other. "But Uncle Sam ain't in this
game. Wot right have THEY"--

"Dry up!" said the leader.

The detachment was now moving at right angles with the camp, but
suddenly halted, almost doubling upon itself in some evident commotion.
A dismounted figure was seen momentarily flying down the hillside
dodging from bush to bush until lost in the underbrush. A dozen shots
were fired over its head, and then the whole detachment wheeled and
came clattering down the trail in the direction of the camp. A single
riderless horse, evidently that of the fugitive, followed.

"Spread yourselves along the ridge, every man of you, and cover them as
they enter the gulch!" shouted the leader. "But not a shot until I give
the word. Scatter!"

The assemblage dispersed like a startled village of prairie dogs,
squatting behind every available bush and rock along the line of bluff.
The leader alone trotted quietly to the head of the gulch.

The nine cavalrymen came smartly up in twos, a young officer leading.
The single figure of Major Overstone opposed them with a command to
halt. Looking up, the young officer drew rein, said a word to his file
leader, and the four files closed in a compact square motionless on the
road. The young officer's unsworded hand hung quietly at his thigh,
the men's unslung carbines rested easily on their saddles. Yet at that
moment every man of them knew that they were covered by a hundred