"AT LAST HE PUT THE GUNS IN THEIR HANDS AND LET THEM MARCH WITH THE PIECES."
"You'll learn in no time," said the old soldier, when his off time came to an end. "You've crowded a dozen lessons into one."
"And I feel it," said Darry. "I'm going in to rest." And he went, followed by Joe. All told, the boys had enjoyed the drill very much.
Joe was somewhat worried when bedtime came and still nothing had been heard of his brother. Yet Colonel Fairfield told him not to mind the prolonged absence.
"But should not your quartermaster be here?" asked the boy.
"He may come in to-morrow morning," answered the colonel.
The next day dawned cloudy, and by noon a steady rain was falling. The boys hardly knew what to do, and, after watching a drill and some performances in the gymnasium, went back to the living quarters. They had hardly entered when there came a shout from the guard at the stockade.
"Captain Moore is coming, with the quartermaster!" was the cry.
"Hurrah, it's Will!" shouted Joe, and ran out despite the rain to welcome his brother.
Soon the soldiers came up, mud-stained and tired. They embraced half of Company A, and in their midst was the quartermaster of the regiment, with two attendants. Each of these three carried heavy saddle-bags, filled with government money for the soldiers, for payday was now due.
"Joe!" cried Captain Moore, as he dismounted and caught his brother by the hand. "I am glad to see you safe and sound."
"And I am glad to see you," answered Joe.
"I will be with you soon—I must first report to Colonel Fairfield," went on the young officer, and lost no time in seeking the commandant.
His story was soon told, and it speedily spread to all parts of the fort. Along with his men and old Benson he had looked in vain for the Gilroy gang for a whole day. Then he had come upon them just as they were preparing for an attack upon the quartermaster and his escort. The gang had numbered eight, and in the fight which had followed two of the crowd had been wounded, although all had made their escape by swimming their steeds over a dangerous mountain torrent. Of the soldiers three had been wounded, one man quite seriously. The young captain had received a bullet through his hat.
"It was Matt Gilroy himself who fired that shot," said Captain Moore. "And I won't forget it when next we meet."
Old Benson had been in the thickest of the fight from beginning to end, and it was he who had wounded one of the desperadoes while the fellow was in the act of carrying off one of the money-bags. The rascals had fought hard over that money-bag, but in the end had been compelled to drop everything and ride to save their lives.
As soon as Captain Moore had made his report, another detachment was sent out, to follow the desperadoes, if they could be found. This detachment was fifty strong and under the leadership of Lieutenant Carrol. The lieutenant was a man who had met numerous desperadoes in his time, and it was felt that he could do the work much better than the average soldier.