At last he set her down and was instantly back to the business in hand.
He shouted an order at the staring men and cleft the silence with a blast on his whistle that brought the others racing in.
"All right, Sergeant-Major—send the scouts off—this way! Follow up with the rest—follow me!"
Mason, the innocent cause of Moon's death, came running up with the horses, recalling to Hector's mind—Loud Gun.
Then, once more, but for the last time, the astonished trumpeter heard his leader ripping out most fearful oaths.
"I'll settle him! By God, I'll settle him!" he ended.
Savagely spurring his horse, he put himself at the head of the scouts and flashed off on the trail the rebels had taken.
VIII
Broncho was en fête—spreading herself. The uprising was over—every spark of revolt completely quenched. That afternoon, there was to be an official 'welcome home' to the city's heroes.
At the head of the column forming for the march to the platform was Hector and his cavalry—a rejuvenated troop, happy as larks.