“His face is not known in Pioneer City, and I never saw it that I know of,” the scout remarked.
“But is he masked now?”
“No, sir.”
“Then you saw his face?”
“I did, sir, and I would know it again if I met his ghost in Hades,” was the sergeant’s emphatic response, for a moment did he break out from his accustomed quiet mien.
“Describe him, sergeant, please.”
“A man six feet in height, sir, herculean in strength, and with a dark, intellectual face, cynical, stern, and very handsome, but for its look of cruelty. He has a long dark mustache, and his hair hangs upon his shoulders. He is a very striking-looking man, sir, and worthy of a better calling, to judge by his appearance.”
“Well, I hope to have a close look at him some day; but what do you think he went to Pioneer City for?”
“I told you, sir, of his intended letter to my daughter, and as it seems he grew suspicious of me, my idea is that he has gone there to plot to get her into his power at once.”
“By the Lord Harry! but you may be right, sergeant. We will break camp at daylight and push for the fort. Come, I’ll send couriers to the other camps to move, also,” and the three returned at a gallop to the camp.