Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-08-08

ing forth his fifty rescuers, and with them.
impatient for tidingS from the far front.
went Byrne, the major himself following as
soon he could change to riding dress.
The last seen of the little command was
the glinting of the starlight on the gun bar
rels as they forded the ripping stream and
took the trail up the narrow, winding val
ley of the Beaver.
1t was then little after 10 clock. The
wire to Prescott was still unresponsive.
Nothing had been heard from the lineSnen
and their escort, indicating that the break
was probably far over as the Aqua FRA.
Not sign. except Stout's signal blazes at
the picacho. had been gathered from the
front Camp Sandy was cut off from the
world, and the actual garrison left to guard
the post and protect the women. children
and the sick as IL o'clock drew nigh. was
exactly forty men of the fighting force.
1t was believed that Stout'S courierS would
make the homeward run, very nearly, by
the route the pack train took throughout
the day, and If they succeeded in evading
hostile scouts or parties, would soon appear
about some of the breaks of the upper
Beaver. Thither. therefore, with all pos
sible speed Plume had directed his men,
promising Mrs. Sanders, as he rode away
that the moment a runner was encountered
he would send light rider at the gallop
on his own good horse-that not a moment
should be lost in bearing them the news
But midnight came without sign. Long
before that hour, as though by common
impulse. almost all the women of the gar
risop had gathered about Trumans quar-
tiers, now the northernmost of the row and
in plain view of the confluence of the Sandy
and the Beaver. DR.. Graham, who had
been swinging to and fro between the linn
it's of the .ShaughnesSys' and the hospital,
stopped to speak with them a moment and
gently drew Angela to one side. His grave
and rugged face was sweet in it's tender
ness as he looked down into her brimming
eyes. Can you not be content at home,
my child?" he murmured. "You seem like
0f hair
your brave father is af1eld, and 1 want to
have his bonnie daughter looking her best
against the home coming. Surely Aunt
Janet will bring you the news the moment
any comes. and I'll bid Kate Sanders bide
with your
No. she would not-she could not go
home. Like every other soul in all Camp
Sandy she seemed to long to be Just there
Some few had even gone out further, be-
yond the. sentries, to the point of the low
bluff. and there, chatting only in whispers,
huddled together, listening in anxiety in
expressible for the muffied sound of gal
Looping hoofs on soft and sandy shore. No,
she dare not, for within the four walls of
that little white room what dreams and
visions had the girl not seen? and, waken-
ing shuddering. had chung to faithful Kate
and sobbed her heart out In those clasping.
tender. loyal arms No beauty, indeed, was
Kate. as even her fond mother ruefully
admitted. but there was that in her great,
gentle. unselfsh heart that made her be-
loved by one and all. Yet Kate had plead
ed with Angela in vain. Some strange
forceful mood had seized the girl and steel
ed and strengthened her against even Janet
Wrens authority. She would not leave the
little band of watchers. She was there
when. toward half-past twelve, at last the
message came. Plume's own horse came
tearing through the flood. and painting,
reeking, trembling into their midst, and
his rider. little Fffer Lanigan of Company
&C." sprang from saddle and thrust his
dispatch into Humans outstretched hand.
rrrcvS 4I~s II-1~-
him, and men running to the scene from
every side. by the light of lantern held in
a soldiers shaking hand, he read aloud the
contents:
BIvOUAC AT PICACHo, 9P.M.
&C. o. Camp Sandy:
Reached this point after hard march
but no active opposition, at 8 pm First
party sent to build fire on ledge driven in