an, murdered in the very hour of her
release; and I gripped my arms in a frenzy. Oh, Satan takes fast hold on
the heart of a man in such a time, and the Christ dying on the cross up
on Calvary, praying "Father forgive them for they know not what they
do," seems only a fireside story of unreal things.

In the midst of this opportunity for vengeance just, and long overdue,
comes Custer's lieutenant with military courtesy to Colonel Moore, and
delivers the message, "The General sends his compliments, with the
instructions not to fire on the Indians."

Courtesy! Compliments! Refrain from any rudeness to the wards of the
Government! I was nearly twenty-two and I knew more than Custer and
Sheridan and even President Grant himself just then. I had a sense of
obedience. John Baronet put that into me back in Springvale years ago.
Also I had extravagant notions of military discipline and honor. But
for one brief moment I was the most lawless mutineer, the rankest
anarchist that ever thirsted for human gore to satisfy a wrong. Nor was
I alone. Beside me were those stanch fellows, Pete and John Mac, and
Hadley. And beyond was the whole line of Kansas men with a cause of
their own here. Before my fury left me, however, we were all about face,
and getting up the valley to a camping-place.

I might have saved the strength the passion of fury costs. Custer knew
his business and mine also. Down in that Cheyenne village, closely
guarded, were two captive women, the women of my boyhood dream, maybe.
The same two women who had been carried from their homes up in the
Solomon River country in the early Fall. What they had endured in these
months of captivity even the war records that set down plain things do
not deem fit to enter. One shot from our rifles that day on the
Sweetwater would have meant for them the same fate that befell the
sacrifice on the Washita, the dead woman on the deserted battle field.
It was to save these two, then, that we had kept step heavily across the
cold starved Plains. For two women we had marched and suffered on day
after day. Who shall say, at the last analysis, that this young queen of
nations, ruling a beautiful land under the Stars and Stripes, sets no
value on the homes of its people, nor holds as priceless the life and
safety even of two unknown women.

Very adroitly General Custer visited, and exchanged compliments, and
parleyed and waited, playing his game faultlessly till even the
quick-witted Chey