night! _Good_-night!"

All through the remaining hours of darkness the detail patrolled the
town. All through the lean, pale hours of dawn it carefully watched its
wakening, guarded each danger-point. But never a sign of disturbance
did the passing time bring forth.

At last, with the coming of the business day, the Sergeant sought out
the principal men of the place, and from them ascertained the truth.

Threats of a jail delivery there had been, and a noisy parade as well,
but nothing had occurred or promised beyond the power of an active
local officer to handle. Such was the statement of one and all.

"I'll just make sure," said the Sergeant to himself.

Till two o'clock in the afternoon the detail continued its patrols. The
town and its outskirts remained of an exemplary peace. At two o'clock
the Sergeant reported by telephone to his Captain:--

"Place perfectly quiet, sir. Nothing seems to have happened beyond the
usual demonstration of a sympathizing crowd over an arrest. Unless
something more breaks, the Sheriff should be entirely capable of
handling the situation."

"Then report back to Barracks at once," said the voice of the Captain
of "A" Troop. "There's _real_ work waiting here."

The First Sergeant, hanging up the receiver, went out and gathered his
men.

Still the storm was raging. Icy snow, blinding sheets of sharp-fanged
smother, rode on the racing wind. Worse overhead, worse underfoot,
would be hard to meet in years of winters.

But once again men and horses, without an interval of rest, struck into
the open country. Once again on the skeleton bridge they made the
precarious crossing. And so, at a quarter to nine o'clock at night, the
detail topped Greensburg's last ice-coated hill and entered the yard of
its high-perched Barracks.

As the First Sergeant slung the saddle off John G.'s smoking back,
Corporal Richardson, farrier of the Troop, appeared before him wearing
a mien of solemn and grieved displeasure.

"It's all very well," said he,--"all very well, no doubt. But
eighty-six miles in twenty-four hours, in weather like this, is a good
deal for any horse. And John G. is twenty-two years old, as perhaps you
may remember. _I've brought the medicine._"

Three solid hours from that very moment the two men worked over John
G., and when, at twelve o'clock, they put him up for the night, not a
wet hair was left on him. As they washed and rubbed and bandaged, they
talked together, mingling t