"I heard that—Fraser wrote me." Lounsbury gritted his teeth.
"And our poor Custer?"
"Ah, poor Custer! The East's talking about nothing else."
"Awful! awful!" The officer turned away to hide the twitching of his face.
"Going to Lincoln now?" asked Lounsbury.
"Not right away."
"Then, I'm off."
"For Lincoln?"
"No, for Brannon."
"Brannon! Alone? Lounsbury! Why, the Indians——"