ispered
to him of the discovery made when the money packages were opened--of the
tragic fate that had, possibly, befallen Bill Hay and Miss Flower.

That a large sum of money was missing, and that Field was the
accountable officer, was already whispered about the garrison. The fact
that four officers and Mr. Hay were aware of it in the first place, and
the latter had told it to his wife, was fatal to entire secrecy. But, in
the horror and excitement that prevailed when the details of the later
tragedy were noised about the post, this minor incident had been almost
forgotten.

The disappearance of Hay and his brilliant, beautiful niece, however,
was not to be forgotten for a moment, day or night, despite the fact
that Mrs. Hay, who had been almost crazed with dread and terror when
first informed there had been a "hold-up," rallied almost immediately,
and took heart and hope when it became apparent that Indians, not white
men, were the captors.

"The Sioux would never harm a hair of his head," she proudly declared.
"He has been their friend for half a century." Nor had she fears for
Nanette. The Sioux would harm nobody her husband sought to protect. When
it was pointed out to her that they had harmed the guards,--that one of
them was found shot dead and scalped at the shores of the Platte, and
the other, poor fellow, had crawled off among the rocks and bled to
death within gunshot of the scene,--Mrs. Hay said they must have first
shown fight and shot some of the Sioux, for all the Indians knew Mr.
Hay's wagon. Then why, asked Fort Frayne, had they molested him--and
his?

The general had had to leave for the front without seeing Mrs. Hay. More
than ever was it necessary that he should be afield, for this exploit
showed that some of the Sioux, at least, had cut loose from the main
body and had circled back toward the Platte--Stabber's people in all
probability. So, sending Crabb and his little squad across the river to
follow a few miles, at least, the trail of the wagon and its captors,
and ascertain, if possible, whither it had gone, he hurried back to
Frayne; sent messengers by the Laramie road to speed the cavalry, and
orders to the colonel to send two troops at once to rescue Hay and his
niece; sent wires calling for a few reinforcements, and was off on the
way to Beecher, guarded by a handful of sturdy "doughboys" in
ambulances, before ever the body of the second victim was found.

And then, little by little, it