he
garrison.

"Why, hell is empty, and all the devils are here."

CHAPTER XX.

A CORNERED RAT.

Far away to the northwest this night, close under the shoulders of the
Big Horn Mountains, a regiment of cavalry has gone into bivouac after a
day's march through blistering sun-glare and alkali. Hour after hour,
with strained, aching eyes, they have been watching the
gradually-nearing dome of Cloud Peak, still glistening white though this
is August. Around the blunt elbow of the mountains, two days' march away
to the north, they expect to find the Gray Fox and all his men eagerly
awaiting their coming. A courier from the front has brought them tidings
that the Indians are in force all over the country west of the Cheetish
group. Another courier has galloped after them from Fetterman, leaving
there last night, and he brings strange news.

During the long, dusty, burning day Captain Webb and Mr. Gleason have
joined the command and reported for duty. To the disgust of the young
second lieutenant commanding Wayne's troop in his absence, the colonel
directs Mr. Gleason, the senior lieutenant now for duty, to assume
command of it for the campaign. Captain Truscott has no objections. He
prefers not to have Mr. Gleason with his own troop, and Stannard is glad
to get him out of his battalion. Very few men are glad to see Gleason,
though nearly all the officers go to him for letters and news. They
bring a small packet of mail, and on the way Gleason has made himself
very interesting to Webb, and has easily gathered from that
simple-minded gentleman that there was an awkward tableau at Truscott's
when he went there to say good-by. "Confidentially," Gleason had let him
understand that he had seen only one of many symptoms that had given
much food for talk at Russell; that to his, Gleason's, bitter regret he
feared Mrs. Truscott had not been as discreet as she should with a
fellow like Ray, who was--well--had Webb heard anything of that horse
board business, etc.? It was so easy,--it _is_ so easy,--more's the
pity, to say so very much in saying very little, when the good name of
man or woman is at stake. Long before they got to the regiment Webb was
convinced that he had seen very much more than he really did at Russell,
and he had heard a volume of gossip that, after all, he could not have
asserted was told him by Gleason, yet had been most deftly suggested.
Gleason was deep. He knew that they brought with them the mai