“But, colonel, that fellow was never born and raised in this country.”
“What makes you say that? On account of his language? He was born in this country, about forty miles from here. His father was a Harvard graduate.”
“Oh, that accounts for it, sir. Has this Carl, the Trailer, ever been to school?”
“Never a day in his life. He despised school and everything connected with it, and longed for horses, guns and excitement. I guess he has seen plenty of it. His father died about two years ago, and he left his ranch in charge of a foreman and has been on duty at this post ever since.”
“He does not dress at all like a plainsman, sir.”
“Oh, Carl is rich. I don’t suppose he knows how many cattle there are, running loose on the plains, that bear his brand. But if all reports are true he is not going to be allowed to keep his money for a great while. There are some fellows about here who wouldn’t be any too sorry to see him deliver up his life, for then the property would come into their possession. But he bears a charmed existence in spite of all they can do. I guess I have told you everything I could think of, and you may as well get ready and go on. Remember, I want you to fill up one of the wagons at once and send it to me in command of a corporal. I shall look for you to come back in safety at the end of a week, if you don’t get all the game you want before that time, and I shall expect to hear a good account of you.”
The colonel arose to his feet, and the lieutenant, taking this as a hint that he wanted the interview brought to a close, shook hands with him and hurried out.
CHAPTER II.
Carl, the Trailer.
At the door Lieutenant Parker found the officer who was acting as commissary of the post waiting for him.