The Lieutenant turned his gaze up the river, and then looked at Wasson, who remained seated in the saddle.
"Must be the same lot Maxwell told us about up on Pawnee Fork, Sam," he said at last. "He will be likely to cut their trail some time to-day. We knew a bunch had headed south, but did n't suppose they had got as far as this already. Better leave Maxwell to run them in, I suppose? Our orders are to return to Dodge."
"They have n't three hours the start," ventured Hamlin in surprise, "and cannot travel fast with so many of their ponies doubly loaded."
"That is for me to decide," staring insolently, "and I understand my duty without any advice. Is there any damage done west of here?"
"The station at the crossing is burned; two dead men there; I don't know what became of the third."
"Then it is just as I thought; those fellows will turn north before they get that far, and will run straight into Maxwell. What do you say, Sam?"
The scout lolled carelessly in the saddle, his eyes on the river, his lean, brown face expressionless.
"I reckon as how it don't make no great difference what I say," he answered soberly. "Yer ain't taken no advice frum me yit, fur as I remember. But if yer really want ter know, this time, my notion is them bucks will most likely hide in the bluffs till night, an' then sneak past Maxwell after it gits good an' dark. If this yere wus my outfit now, I 'd just naturally light on to the trail fast, orders er no orders. I reckon it's Injuns we cum out after, an' I don't suppose the War Department would find any fault if we found a few."
The blood surged into the Lieutenant's face, but opposition only served to increase his obstinacy.
"I prefer to rely on my own judgment," he said tartly. "From what this man reports they are in stronger force than we are. Besides my instructions were not to provoke hostilities."