Clad in the uniform of a captain of cavalry, and with his brown curling hair worn long, and a slouch hat shading his face, Captain Percy la Clyde looked just what he was, a dashing, handsome, daring soldier, generous to a fault, and ever true in both love and hatred.
The only child of wealthy parents, he had preferred to lead a military life to one of idleness and dissipation; and, after a successful career at West Point, had been ordered to the frontier, where he rapidly ascended the ladder of promotion on account of his courage and skill as an officer.
Four days before the caravan reached their encampment on the river, Captain la Clyde had joined them, by order of the commandant at Fort Hays, to serve as an escort to the emigrants, and a guard until they were securely settled in their frontier homes.
A most pleasant duty had the young officer found that he was detailed upon, for he had fallen desperately in love with Sibyl Conrad, and felt that she was the bright star that was to guard his future destiny.
As he now entered the ravine, he was given a cordial welcome; but a shade swept over his face, as he beheld Howard Lawrence by the side of the girl he loved.
Percy la Clyde had watched with jealous eye the regard of his rival for Sibyl. In spite of the many seeming noble qualities possessed by Lawrence, and his almost universal popularity, La Clyde could not like him, and felt for him a distrust he could not overcome.
But then, this might have been on account of jealousy, for jealousy always exerts an evil influence upon the person of whom it takes possession. Yet Sibyl greeted the officer now in a friendly way, and so did Ruth Whitfield, who had always exhibited warm regard for the young soldier.
After a few words of comfort and hope to those around him, Percy la Clyde said:
“Well, ladies, we must now leave you, for every man must be at his post.”