“Boys,” said Travers, riding out a little from the rest, “how many of you wish to take a skurry after the Indians this morning?”
With loud cheers, every man, soldiers, teamsters and all, flocked forward, each striving to be foremost. A glad smile played around their leader’s lips.
“Good! though it’s only what I expected from you. But you can’t all go. Sergeant Morris?”
“Here, sir.”
“Pick out thirty men, and see that they’re ready in ten minutes. Never mind rations; take only arms and plenty of ammunition.”
“Yes, sir. Half the time’ll do.”
“Now, Miss Calhoun, if you will come with us, I will see you more comfortably placed than on that horse. The sutler’s family is with us, and will see that you have all that you require.”
“Thank you, captain, but it is needless; I am going to my father, with the rest of you,” firmly replied the maiden.
“But think—how we must ride, to do any good, and then there will probably be hard fighting at the end of it,” he urged, perplexedly.
“I have thought. Father is in trouble—perhaps dead or badly wounded, and I not there! I must go!”