“Yes,” the inspector continued. “And I suppose you follows want to go on to Fort Good Faith. You seem to be able to take care of yourselves. Would you like to be special deputies?”
“Would we!” Dick exclaimed.
“Hurrah!” shouted Sandy.
Inspector Dawson could not forbear a smile at the boys’ exuberance. “All right, step forward,” he commanded, arising from his desk.
Dick and Sandy lined up like soldiers while they repeated the oath of allegiance to the law on specials duty for the duration of the Henderson outbreak.
The Inspector made Toma an official scout.
“Now good day, boys,” the Inspector said dismissing them. “Report to me tomorrow morning early. I expect Slade in then.”
Dick and Sandy followed Toma out of headquarters seething with excitement. They felt themselves full-fledged mounted policemen now, and, too, they were to take the trail with Malemute Slade, the famous scout they had met on the Big Smokey. Their only regret was that they could not don the beautiful uniforms they saw everywhere about the post.
They inquired as to the quarters of Corporal Richardson, and had a long chat with the convalescent officer. They secured arrangements to pass the night in the barracks, and once more toasted their shins before a genuine stove.
Bright and early next morning, Dick and Sandy rolled out of their bunks and pulled on their clothes.