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Almira and her assistant listened, as what woman would not? heard the courteous, cordial tone of inquiry for Mrs. Davies, and Katty's flurried "Begs to be excused, mum," and there was no need of the question which Mrs. Flight asked, "Who was it, Katty?" for both knew Mrs. Cranston's voice.
She did not find Almira until after dark, but meantime told her thrilling tale to Mrs. In him she found a listener indeed in whom there was no end of guile. This was just before Cranston's return.
Boynton, limping still, had come back to resume command of the agency guard, for Davies's wound had proved deep and serious. He had been stabbed by Red Dog after that warrior was raised to his feet, after Cranston's skirmishers had swept the field, after Davies thought the struggle at an end, and was unprepared for the stealthy blow.
Even while the group of officers at Cranston's was eagerly discussing the news, he had made his bow to a deeply blushing Mira over at the hospital tent, and was seated by Davies's side. "Business first, pleasure afterwards," hummed Cranston to himself when he heard of the arrival, and noted how Meg's bright eyes dilated. "Business, indeed!" thought she.
She was only one of the several "piazza girls," as we called certain ones of those who were staying at Cranston's, with whom I had danced, to whom I had made pretty speeches, and had given the bell button that was sewn just over my heart. She certainly was not the best of them, for I can see now that she was vain and shallow, with a pert boldness, which I mistook for vivacity and wit.
Only a cloud of dust settling slowly to earth remained to greet the long line of Cranston's troop as it came sweeping in from the foot-hills at thundering gallop. Far out across the prairie the manoeuvring cavalry had sniffed the "sign" of trouble at the agency, and his was the first to answer the alarm. Again was there scene of mad excitement among the Indian villages on the Chasing Water.
Somehow or other, I could not get out of my mind the recollection of the man rolled in the blanket and trussed up as helpless as a mummy. I wondered whether that alone was sufficient to account for the quickness with which he had been pacified. Then I recalled Mrs. Cranston's remark about her mental alertness and physical weakness. Had it anything to do with the "tonic"?
This time there was no doubt of his application being forwarded to regimental head-quarters, and there's no doubt, said the chaplain, who had a talk with him within an hour of his restoration to duty, that a week would see him en route to join Cranston's troop at Ogallalla.
"You know I owe that to father," she said. Then, with quick change of subject, "But I haven't congratulated you on your assignment." "Is it here? has it come?" he asked, eagerly. "I did not know. What regiment?" "To the Eleventh Cavalry, Captain Cranston's own regiment." "The Eleventh Cavalry!" he exclaimed, surprise and pleasure in his face.
Galloping forms still issue from it and the western skirts of the village, from the clumps of Cottonwoods, from under the banks, whither the mad dash of some horses had carried their riders. But Cranston's face loses its smile, a world of anxiety suddenly replaces it, for shots and yells ring from the midst of the village still, and the chief of the first platoon is not here to rally his men.
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