Lieutenant Parker was standing in front of his quarters waiting to see what the corporal was going to find outside the gate, and when he saw the two coming along the parade he came quickly toward them.
“I have got him, sir,” said the corporal.
If we were to say that the two boys were delighted to see each other we should fall far short of the truth. Carl held out his hand, but the lieutenant paid no attention to it. He rushed in, caught Carl around his arms, and whirled him with his feet clear of the ground, all unmindful of the presence of the corporal. Then he put him down and seized him by the hand.
“I tell you I can rest in peace now,” said Parker. “Carl, how do you do? How did you escape?”
“I’ve got a long story to tell you,” said Carl, “but first I must see the colonel. I ought to report to him the first thing I do.”
“Come in here with me just a minute and then you can call on the colonel,” said the lieutenant, leading the way into his quarters. “I want to look at you.”
“Say,” said Carl in a lower tone, as the lieutenant closed the door behind him, “Sitting Bull is dead.”
Parker had picked up a chair to place it for Carl to sit down, but he stopped when these words fell upon his ear and put the chair down again.
“Yes, sir,” said Carl. “He resisted arrest and he was shot dead.”
“Why—why—who told you?” asked Parker.