CHAPTER II. THE ANSWER.
The powdered, begrimed face was seen to expand into something like a grin, and raising his hand, the courier literally scraped the dust from his cheeks and eyebrows, and then, as he removed his hat, a general exclamation of amazement escaped all.
“Jim Gibbons! is it you?” called out the commandant, as he recognized a man who had been employed at his fort a year before. “I thought your voice had a familiar sound, but then your own mother would not have recognized you.”
“But come,” added Gibbons, moving about uneasily, “we’ll talk over this matter some other time. I’ve brought you the message, colonel,” he added, making a graceful military salute. “I had heard in St. Louis that you had been sent to another command, else I would have known whom to ask for. Now, can you help us or not?”
The officer folded his arms behind his back and walked slowly over the parade-ground, signifying by a nod of his head, that Gibbons should do the same.
“I must help you,” he said, in a low voice; “such a call as that can not pass unheeded. But, Jim, you see my fix. We ought to have a full regiment to garrison this fort, and the Government allows me but six hundred. Two hundred of these men are on a scout up toward the mountains, and won’t be in till dark. Do you know there is some reason to fear an attack upon the fort, from a combination of several tribes under the direction of the infernal Comanche, Swico-Cheque?”
“Why he is at the head of the devils that have our friends walled in. I know him too well, and have seen him a dozen times, circling around on his horse, yelling like a thousand panthers, and tiring about a dozen shots a minute. I have fired at him five or six times, but never grazed him once.”
“Well, I think it is more than likely that we shall have an attack from him. Now, you know something of life on the plains; tell me how many men you need to bring your friends into the fort.”