"Nothing sir, nothing," replied Tracy; "lie down Colonel and try to rest, you need it sir"—and then aside—"poor old chap, his mind's wandering."
"No, no, Tracy. Listen man, don't you hear it? It sounds like the beat of many horses' hoofs, re-enforcements are coming, thank God. Hogan got through."
Just then, Crash! Bang! and a clear voice rang out, "Right front into line, gallop, March! Charge!" and those sturdy chaps of the 11th Cavalry true to their regimental hatred for the Indians, charged down among the red men scattering them like so much chaff. Then to the northwards was heard another ringing cheer, and the two long-delayed regiments came down among the Indians like a thunderbolt of vengeance. Truly, "It never rains but it pours." The 29th, all that was left of it, was saved, and when Colonel Foster leaned over the prostrate form of his old friend and comrade, Colonel Clarke feebly asked, "Where is that brave little chap, Hogan?"
"Hogan? Who is Hogan?" asked Foster.
"Why, my God, man, Hogan was the man that got beyond the Indian lines to make the ride to inform you of our plight. Didn't you see him?"
"No, I didn't see him," and then Colonel Foster related how the information had reached him.
A rescuing party was started out and in the pale moonlight they came upon the body of poor Denny lying stark and stiff under the telegraph line, his left hand grasping the instrument and the key open. A bullet hole in his head mutely told how he had met his death. Beside him lay the Indian, dead, one hand grasping Hogan's scalp lock, the other clasping a murderous-looking knife. Death had mercifully prevented the accomplishment of his hellish purpose.
Hogan's shot had mortally wounded the Indian in the left breast, but with all the vengeful nature of his race, he had crawled forward on his hands and knees, and while Hogan was intent on sending his precious message, he shot him through the head, but not until the warning had been given to Fort Scott. Denny's faithful horse was standing near, as if keeping watch over the inanimate form of his late friend.
They buried him where he lay, and a traveler passing over that trail, will observe a solitary grave. On the tombstone at the head is inscribed:
"DENNIS HOGAN,
"Private, Company B,
"29th U. S. Infantry.
"He died that others might live."