atters that had passed beyond his control,
and Balwin made a grab as the head of the man in the river washed by.
The false braid came off in his hand!

"Quick!" shouted Cutler from the bank. "Shove him up here!"

Two Knives redoubled his harangue, and the Indians stood puzzled, while
the lieutenants pulled Toussaint out, not dead, but shot through the
hip. They dragged him over the clay and hoisted him, till Cutler caught
hold and jerked him to the level, as a new noise of rattling descended
on the crowd, and the four blue mules wheeled up and halted. The boy had
done it himself. Massing the officers' need, he had pelted down among
the Sioux, heedless of their yells, and keeping his gray eyes on his
team. In got the three, pushing Toussaint in front, and scoured away for
the post as the squaw arrived to shriek the truth to her tribe--what Red
Cloud's relation had been the victim.

Cutler sat smiling as the ambulance swung along. "I told you I belonged
in this here affair," he said. And when they reached the fort he was
saying it still, occasionally.

Captain Brent considered it neatly done. "But that boy put the finishing
touches," he said. "Let's have him in."

The boy was had in, and ate a dinner with the officers in glum
embarrassment, smoking a cigar after it without joy. Toussaint was given
into the doctor's hands, and his wounds carefully dressed.

"This will probably cost an Indian outbreak," said Captain Brent,
looking down at the plain. Blanketed riders galloped over it, and
yelling filled the air. But Toussaint was not destined to cause this
further harm. An unexpected influence intervened.

All afternoon the cries and galloping went on, and next morning (worse
sign) there seemed to be no Indians in the world. The horizon was
empty, the air was silent, the smoking tepees were vanished from the
cottonwoods, and where those in the plain had been lay the lodge-poles,
and the fires were circles of white, cold ashes. By noon an interpreter
came from Red Cloud. Red Cloud would like to have Toussaint. If the
white man was not willing, it should be war.

Captain Brent told the story of Loomis and Kelley. "Say to Red Cloud,"
he ended, "that when a white man does such things among us, he is
killed. Ask Red Cloud if Toussaint should live. If he thinks yes, let
him come and take Toussaint."

The next day with ceremony and feathers of state, Red Cloud came,
bringing his interpreter, and after listening until ever