sight or hear me before I get through, then, of course,
there will be the biggest kind of an excitement, and you'll hear the
shooting. The moment it begins give a yell; fire your guns; go whooping
up the stream with the horses as though the whole crowd were trying to
cut out that way, _but get right back_. The excitement will distract
them and help me. Now, good-by, and good luck to you, crowd."

"Ray, will you have a nip before you try it? You must be nearly used up
after this day's work." And Wayne held out his flask to him.

"No. I had some hot coffee just ten minutes ago, and I feel like a
four-year-old. I'm riding new colors; didn't you know it? By Jove!" he
added, suddenly, "this is my first run under the Preakness blue." Even
there and then he thought too quickly to speak her name. "Now, then,
some of you crawl out to the south edge of the timber with me, and lie
flat on the prairie and keep me in sight as long as you can." He took
one more look at his revolver. "I'm drawing to a bob-tail. If I fail,
I'll bluff; if I fill, I'll knock spots out of any threes in the
Cheyenne outfit."

Three minutes more and the watchers at the edge of the timber have seen
him, leading Dandy by the bridle, slowly, stealthily, creeping out into
the darkness; a moment the forms of man and horse are outlined against
the stars: then, are swallowed up in the night. Hunter and the sergeants
with him grasp their carbines and lie prone upon the turf, watching,
waiting.

In the bivouac is the stillness of death. Ten soldiers--carbine in
hand--mounted on their unsaddled steeds are waiting in the darkness at
the upper rifle-pits for Hunter's signal. If he shout, every man is to
yell and break for the front. Otherwise, all is to remain quiet. Back at
the watch-fire under the bank Wayne is squatting, watch in one hand,
pistol in the other. Near by lie the wounded, still as their comrades
just beyond,--the dead. All around among the trees and in the sand-pits
up- and down-stream, fourscore men are listening to the beating of their
own hearts. In the distance, once in a while, is heard the yelp of
coyote or the neigh of Indian pony. In the distance, too, are the gleams
of Indian fires, but they are far beyond the positions occupied by the
besieging warriors. Darkness shrouds them. Far aloft the stars are
twinkling through the cool and breezeless air. With wind, or storm, or
tempest, the gallant fellow whom all hearts are following would have
s