once and for all time."

This was all, but more than enough. Riding night and day in wide detour,
Michel had made his way to the lately beleaguered spot, and what he
brought was joyous news, indeed. Within the coming week the post would
have no more to fear. Within a day or two the contractors, then, would
have their money, and that would tap the sutler's stores and joy would
reign supreme. Enviously the soldiers eyed the artisans. Not for weeks
could their paymaster be looked for, while the funds for the civilians
might reach them on the morrow, provided Red Cloud did not interfere. He
couldn't and wouldn't, said the commander, because he and his braves
were all off to the southeast, hunting buffalo. He could and might, said
Michel that night at ten o'clock, after taps had sent the garrison to
bed, for by the time he left Frayne there were other riders up from Gate
City and all that garrison had learned that Lieutenant Dean was taking
something like fifty thousand dollars in greenbacks up to the Gap, with
only ten men to guard it, and Major Burleigh was wild with anxiety lest
he shouldn't get through, and had been nearly crazy since he heard of
Dean's narrow escape at Canon Springs. The officer of the day who heard
this story took it, with the teller, to the post commander, and that
veteran sat up late and cross-questioned long. Michel's English might be
broken, but not his statement. The last arrival at Frayne before he left
was one of Major Burleigh's own men from Gate City. He said the General
and his staff were expected at Emory the next day, investigating
matters, for old Stevens had got stampeded because his sergeant-major
was assaulted and old Mr. Folsom knocked out and a drunken captain by
the name of Newhall had been making trouble, and it had all told on
Major Burleigh, who had taken to his bed with nervous prostration.

So, while the garrison went to rest happy, the commanding officer waked
long, and finally slept soundly and might have slept late, but that just
at dawn, full half an hour before the time for reveille, there came a
sharp knocking at the door of his log-hut, and the imperative voice of
the officer of the day.

"Colonel! colonel, I say! There's sharp firing out here in the hills to
the south!"

The peaks to the west were just tinging with purple and red, reflected
from the eastward sky, and a faint light was beginning to steal down
into the deep valley in which the cantonment lay sleeping, w