"I will remove it and not put it on again until the sore heals," I answered, and, taking a key from my pocket, I took off the collar and assisted in dressing the wound.
After petting Vic for a while, and using quite as much "baby talk" in doing so as Henry had in dressing the wound, I asked the boy how he came to return with the cavalry.
"I ran ahead, as you told me to, sir, and the wagon-master came to meet me. He lent me his mule, and I rode on to Captain Bayard and made my report. The captain sent Lieutenant Baldwin and his men, and lent me a spare horse to come along as guide."
"Have you seen Chiquita?"
"At a distance. Is she all right?"
"Yes, but very tired. Let us join the troop, for it is time we were on our way to the train."
Our return ride was at a walk. Henry turned his cavalry horse over to a trooper to be led, and mounted Chiquita with Vic in his arms. Arrived in camp he took the dog to the surgeon for treatment, and in a few days she was as lively as ever.