Guy Preston began to see at last that he was about to do something at which many a better man and braver than he ever dared be would hesitate. It might be that "every little tuft of grass concealed a Sioux warrior," and an arrow or a bullet sped when he was not looking for it would put an end to his redoubtable thoroughbred and leave him at the mercy of the Indians who had beleaguered the Fort; but he had his loaded Derringer in his pocket, and he was sure that with it he could escape the barbarities they would inflict upon him. He took his double barrel out of its case, and bade Perkins good-by; but that worthy did not notice him at all. He got up and accompanied Preston to the stables, saw him saddle his horse and lead him to the gate. He found the Adjutant there waiting to pass the orders the Colonel had last given him, and he seemed more surprised than ever to learn that the young officer was still bent on going outside; but he said, as if he were giving ordinary instructions to one who had a simple duty to perform:—
"Do you see those hills about a mile and a half off? Well, keep inside of them. If you go over them, we shall give you up. Look out for an ambuscade."
"Now will you bid me good-by, Perkins?" said Guy, extending his hand. "Oh, you need not be so particular about giving it a brotherly clasp. I will see you again in two or three hours, and I shall have a lot of prairie chickens to show you. Good-by everybody."
"I am really surprised at the Colonel," said Perkins, as he stood by the Adjutant's side and watched his comrade as he galloped away. "He should have refused him point-blank."
"The Colonel is sorry enough for it now when it is too late," said the officer. "He supposed, of course, when the boy found out how much danger there was in his undertaking that he would give it up; but I knew he was taking the wrong course. Good-by Preston. By gracious, he has one prairie chicken already!"
Yes; the very first chicken that his horse frightened up was filled full of No. 8 shot, and Preston had something for his dinner. The Adjutant could not wait to see any more. He had business to attend to somewhere inside, so he went off and Perkins sat there on the ground for an hour and kept watch of his companion as he wandered to and fro on the prairie in search of another chicken. At last one got up before him, but the shooter seemed to have lost his skill. The double barrel spoke twice in quick succession, but the chicken kept on and in a moment more flew over the ridge out of sight. At least that was what Perkins thought he had done, the distance being so great that he could not see the chicken at all; but he judged from Guy's actions that that was the way he had gone. After waiting long enough to reload his gun, he put spurs to his horse and presently he too was out of sight.
"Good-by Guy Preston," said Perkins, with a sigh; "you are the best fellow that ever lived, and now the Sioux have got you sure. You should have had better sense than to disobey the Adjutant's orders."
Perkins was in a very gloomy frame of mind as he took his way through the gate and finally brought up before the Adjutant's door. A voice from the inside bade him enter, and the Lieutenant knew as soon as he looked at him that he had some news to communicate.
"Guy Preston has gone, sir," said he.