The Baltimore County union, the Towson news., 1909-10-16

back on Eagle Butte and urged the
Sioux to drink, drink, drink. He
joined in the dance and told ofscalps
he would take. pausing only to con-
tinue his pretense of drinking, and to
press the whisky on the painted
fend at his side.
Little Fox was growing stupid
from the liquor and the dance. The
trooper fell by the fire, apparently
unconscious; a moment later the
Indian was also down, but he still
chanted. Half an hour passed; the
camp fire died out, a coyote walled
from a nearby hill. The signal fires
on Eagle Butte were burning lower.
Little Fox was senseless.
Rising cautiously, Skeeter bent
over the form of the Indian, and
again the impulse came to bury his
knife in the treacherous heart; but he
turned away, and in a few minutes
was in the saddle and riding away,
leading the Indians horse.
1t was pitch dark, but he rode at
sharp trot back over the trail he had
come, toward the post, to join the
men of his blood. The mouth of the
canyon was reached. AS he struck
out across the plain he urged his
horse to greater speed, pictured to
himself the scene al the majors
headquarters when he should report
the signal and its meaning. The
majors first act would be to dictate
a message to Washington, he told
himself, and the majors next act
would be to order Skeeter placed in
chains. He smiled at the thought.
Then he pulled rein sharply. An
other thought had come tohim. What
of Alice Gilbert at the Circle-X ranch
over in Cougar Valley? He turned
his horses head and galloped off to
the left. The fort must wait. His
first duty was in Cougar Valley.
The night was waning, already he
could see the first paleness in the
eastern sky that heralded the ap-
proach of dawn. In an hour il
would be light. He still lead the
Indians pony. and with the free end
ofthe picket rope he struck his mount,
urging it forward. A pallor crept
through the tan of his cheeks. The
faint report of firearms came from the
direction of the Circle-X. He paused
in indecision. The fort was five
miles away. If the Indians had al
ready attacked the ranch, it was
doubtful if he could reach the post in
time to secure assistance. But the
fight, if such it was, might not be at
the Circle-X. He rode forward.
Ten minutes later and his teeth
clicked together. He could see the
outbuildings of the ranch in flames,
the spiteful crack of the Winchesters
showed that the fight was on in
earnest. At the brow of the hill he
dismounted, crept forward to the
shelter of pile of rocks, and care
fully scanned the scene below, noting
with satisfaction that it was but a
small band that had swooped down
on the place.
The firing from the house was
steady, but pitifully weak, so that it
was only question of a very briei
time until the reds would rush the
place and butcher the defenders.
Something very like sob escaped the
trooper as he crouched there and
realized his helplessness. No horse
flesh could bring succor from the fort
in time. In half an hour the story
would be ended, the mangled bodies
of the people of the ranch would be
burning in the house that had shelf
cred them. Even as the thought
flashed through his brain firebrand
hurtled through the air and fell on
the roof of the house. In moment
the dry boards were ablaze.
There rose before him the sweet
face of Alice Gilbert. He heard hel
pleading with the major for the
drunken bugler; he saw her as she
stood by his sick bed, tender, gra
cious, divinity. He saw her as the
Sioux battered down the doors
and butchered the men. He saw
her as the bloody demons with
the lusts of hell in their breasts sur
rounded her.
"Oh, God!"
1t was a moaning prayer from lipi
that had never known prayer.
He sprang to his feet and rushed
back to his horse. His blood wal
LIQUID fire, his brain seething whirl
With a bound he was in the saddle
his bugle went to his lips, and th'
next instant the thrilling notes o
''the charge" were ringing. Then h'
sank his spurs in his horses fiankI
and dashed forward, the indiana
pony following. They swept owe
the brow of the hill in a laundering
gallop, and then straight for th'
surprised horde of Sioux he rode il
the half dawn, guiding the wei
trained cavalry horse with his knee
and pouring in a rapid fire from
pistol clutched in his right hand, ,whil'
with his left he pressed the bugle t.
his lips, and again and again it
fierce notes rang out. The Siou7
paused, bewildered. A cheer cam
from the house and the firing wa
quickened.
THE charged The charged" sound
ed the bugle. The hostiles hat
heard the call before, doubted no
that detachment of long knives
was upon them. AS they hesitate'
the Winchesters in the ranch hous
wrought death in their midst, ant
they wheeled their ponies and dashe'
away, sending a final volley bacl
towards that shrieking trumpet,
volley that caused the lone troope
to drop his pistol and clutch at hi
breast. The notes of the bugle brok
to a splutter as he reeled from tn
saddle.
When he opened his eyes Allc
Gilbert and the men of the rancl
were bending over him; one wa
forcing whisky down his throat. H