a cave of flame, and he was
driven from the door. He wrung his hands, giving himself bitter blame
aloud, as he covered Loomis with his saddle-blanket, and jumped bareback
upon Duster to go to the post. He had not been riding a minute when
several men met him. They had seen the fire from below, and on their way
up the half-breed had passed them at a run.

"Here's our point," said Cutler. "Will he hide with the Sioux, or
will he take to the railroad? Well, that's my business more than being
wagon-master. I'll get a warrant. You tell Lieutenant Balwin--and
somebody give me a fresh horse."

A short while later, as Cutler, with the warrant in his pocket, rode
out of Fort Laramie, the call of the sentinels came across the night:
"Number One. Twelve o'clock, and all's well." A moment, and the refrain
sounded more distant, given by Number Two. When the fourth took it up,
far away along the line, the words were lost, leaving something like the
faint echo of a song. The half-breed had crossed the Platte, as if he
were making for his kindred tribe, but the scout did not believe in this
too plain trail.

"There's Chug Water lying right the other way from where he went, and
I guess it's there Mr. Toussaint is aiming for." With this idea Cutler
swung from north to southwest along the Laramie. He went slowly over
his shortcut, not to leave the widely circling Toussaint too much in his
rear. The fugitive would keep himself carefully far on the other side of
the Laramie, and very likely not cross it until the forks of Chug Water.
Dawn had ceased to be gray, and the doves were cooing incessantly among
the river thickets, when Cutler, reaching the forks, found a bottom
where the sage-brush grew seven and eight feet high, and buried himself
and his horse in its cover. Here was comfort; here both rivers could be
safely watched. It seemed a good leisure-time for a little fire and some
breakfast. He eased his horse of the saddle, sliced some bacon, and put
a match to his pile of small sticks. As the flame caught, he stood up to
enjoy the cool of a breeze that was passing through the stillness, and
he suddenly stamped his fire out. The smell of another fire had come
across Chug Water on the wind. It was incredible that Toussaint should
be there already. There was no seeing from this bottom, and if Cutler
walked up out of it the other man would see too. If it were Toussaint,
he would not stay long in the vast exposed plain across Chug Water,