"Is that Cyrus, sir?"
The man who had a glass removed it from his eyes long enough to stare blankly at Guy, and then, as if getting something through his head, he leveled the glass once more and said, while he caught a momentary glimpse of the figure:—
"By George! I believe you are right."
CHAPTER VIII. In the Hands of the Sioux
The excuse that Cyrus made, that he wanted to lie down and get a wink of sleep before the Colonel's Orderly came to find him, was merely a pretense to get rid of the officer, and nothing else. When Guy went out he lay down on his bunk, but he did not stay there more than five minutes. No one came in to bother him, and Cyrus, thinking that as good a time to reach the Colonel's quarters without attracting the attention of anybody, got up and, by keeping close to the palisades and behind the out-buildings, drew up at last before one of the windows of the commanding officer's room. It really was not a window at all, but an opening left in the logs and covered with a piece of muslin so as to admit the light. He listened, but could hear nothing but the steady tramp of the Colonel as he paced back and forth in his room. Then he raised his hand and with his knuckles gave a peculiar rap on the casement. A moment afterward the corner of the piece of muslin was drawn aside and the Colonel's face appeared.
"I am here," said Cyrus. "I want those dispatches that you have ready for me."
"Come in," said the commanding officer, and with a few moves he drew the tacks which confined the window and made a hole large enough for Cyrus to squeeze his broad shoulders through.
"Have you a needle and thread?" asked Cyrus.