"Dan," he said swiftly, "how about that fellow who came in with despatches from Union just before dark? He looked like a real man."
"I did n't see him. I was down river with the wood-cutters all day."
Travers got up and paced the floor.
"I remember now. What do you say? Let's have him in, anyhow. They never would have trusted him for that ride if he had n't been the right sort." He strode over to the door, without waiting an answer. "Here, Carter," he called, "do you know where that cavalryman is who rode in from Fort Union this afternoon?"
A face appeared in the glow of light, and a gloved hand rose to salute.
"He's asleep in 'B's' shack, sir," the orderly replied. "Said he 'd been on the trail two nights and a day."
"Reckon he had, and some riding at that. Rout him out, will you; tell him the Major wants to see him here at once."
The man wheeled as if on a pivot, and disappeared.
"If Carter could only ride," began McDonald, but Travers interrupted impatiently.
"If! But we all know he can't. Worst I ever saw, must have originally been a sailor." He slowly refilled his pipe. "Now, see here, Dan, it's your daughter that's to be looked after, and therefore I want you to size this man up for yourself. I don't pretend to know anything about him, only he looks like a soldier, and they must think well of him at Union."