"How old is your daughter, sir?"
"In her twentieth year."
"Have you a picture of the young lady?"
The Major crossed over to his fatigue coat hanging on the wall, and extracted a small photograph from an inside pocket.
"This was taken a year ago," he explained, "and was considered a good likeness then."
Hamlin took the card in his hands, studied the face a moment, and then placed it upon the table.
"You figure she ought to leave Ripley on the 18th," he said slowly. "Then I shall need to start at once to make Dodge in time."
"You mean to go then? Of course, you realize I have no authority to order you on such private service."
"That's true. I 'm a volunteer, but I 'll ask you for a written order just the same in case my Troop commander should ever object, and I 'll need a fresh horse; I rode mine pretty hard coming up here."
"You shall have the pick of the stables, Sergeant," interjected the cavalry captain, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "Anything else? Have you had rest enough?"