and head him off; mebbe you'd like to write a word or two."

"You are a real hero," she said, as she put a little slip of paper into
his hand, and pressed it there with both of hers.

"Don't do that," he said, hurriedly; "they'll think something's up. I'm
doin' it for the Major; he's treated me white all the way along, and
I'll be derned if I let this gang do him."

A pain shot through her heart. Putting her hand to her bosom, she said:
"It means everything to me, Calvin. Good-bye. I am trusting you--it's
life or death to me. Good-bye!"

XXX

THE CAPTURE OF THE MAN

The east was saffron and pale-blue as Crow and the agent drove out of
the corral and up the road to the south. Two Horns was the driver. Crow
alone was armed, and he wore but his official revolver. Maynard had been
purposely left out of the expedition, for Curtis did not wish to seem to
question in the slightest degree the obedience of his people. He
preferred to go unarmed and without handcuffs or rope, as a friend and
adviser, not as an officer of the law.

The morning was deliciously cool, with a gentle wind sliding down from
the high peaks, which were already glowing with the morning's pink and
yellow. From some of the tepees in Grayman's camp smoke was already
rising, and a few old women could be seen pottering about the cooking
lodges, while the morning chorus of the dogs and coyotes thickened.
There was an elemental charm in it all which helped the young soldier to
shake off his depression.

Passing rapidly through the two villages, Two Horns turned to the left
and entered upon a road which climbed diagonally up the side of a long,
low ridge. This involved plodding, and by the time they reached the
summit the sun met them full-fronted. In the smaller valley, which lay
between this ridge and the foot-hills, a rough trail led towards the
mountains. This way Two Horns took, driving rapidly and silently, and
soon entered the pines and pinons which form the lower fringe of the
vast and splendid robe of green which covers the middle heights of the
Rocky Mountains.

After an hour of sharp driving, with scarcely a word or gesture, Crow
turned and said: "Cut Finger there. Black Wolf, his tepee."

The trail here took a sharp curve to the left to avoid a piece of stony
ground, and from a little transverse ridge Curtis could look down on a
small, temporary village, the band of Black Wolf, who had located here
to cut hay on the marsh.

"We m