Mower County transcript., 1907-12-04
CHAPTER XVII.
The Trail of Silent Murphy.


The Trai! of Silent Murphy.
The young infantryman who had
been detailed for the important serv.
ice of telegraph operator sat in the
Cheyenne Office, his feet on the rude
table, his face buried behind a news.
paper.
could you inform me where !
might find Silent Murphy, a govern
ment scout?'
The voice had the unmistakable ring
of military authority, and the soldier
operator instinc ctively. dropped his feet
to the floor.
"Well, my lad, you are not dumb,
are you?"
The telegrapher's momentary hesi-
tation vanished; his ambition to be.
come a martyr to the strict laws Of
service secrecy was not sufficiently
strong to cause him to take the doubt
full chances of a. lie. ''ie was here,
but has gone"
"Where?"
'"The devil knows. He rode north.
carrying dispatches for Custer"
"When?
"Oh, three or four hours ago."
Hampton swore softly but fervent.
ly, behind his clinched teeth.
"Where is Custer?"
Don't know exactly. Supposed to
be with Terry and Gibbons, some
where near the mouth of the Powder,
although he may have left there by
this time, moving down the Yellow
stone. Murphy's orders were to inter-
cept his column somewhere between
the Rosebud and the Big Horn. No
other scout along this border would
take such a detail. But that old devil
He started off as happy as ever l see
him.
How far will he have to ride?"'
ooh, bout 300 miles as the crow
flies, a. little west of north, and the
better part OF the distance, they tell
me, it's almighty rough country for
night work But then Murphy, he
knows the way all right. Sorry you
didn't come along a little earlier,' he
said, genially. DO you know Muir
phy?"
I'm not quite certain. Did you
happen to notice peculiar black scar
on the back of his right hand?"
Sure: looks like the half of a pear.
He said it was powder under the skin"
A new look of reviving determina-
ton swept into Hampton's gloomy
eyes-beyond doubt this must be his
man.
'How many horses did he have??"
''Two."
Did you overhear him say anything
definite about his plans for the trip?'
what, him? He never talks, that
fellow. He can't do nothing but sput
ter if he tries. But wrote out his or
ders, and they give him to the 25th to
make the Big Horn. You wasn't plan
ming to strike out after him, was
your
II might risk it if I only thought I
could overtake him within two days;
my business is of some Importance"
well, stranger, should reckon you
might do that with dog-gone good
outfit. .Murphy's sure to take things
pretty easy to-day, and he's almost
certain to follow the old mining trail
as far as the ford over the Belle
Fourche, and that's plain enough to
travel Beyond that point the devil.
only knows where he will go, for then
is when his hard ridin' begins.''
The moment the operator mentioned
that odd scar on Murphy's hand, every
vestige of hesitation vanished. Be-
yond any possibility of doubt he was
on the right scent this time Murphy
was riding north upon q mission as
desperate as ever man was called
upon to perform. The chance of his
coming forth alive from that Indian
haunted land was, as the operator
truthfully said, barely one out of a
hundred. To the end, to the death If
need were, he would follow' g v: