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We want to attack Foster and beat him in the morning. He will just be a nice breakfast spell.” Col. Hays sent me back to bring up his command, but on second thought said: “No, Lieutenant, I’ll go, too.” On the way back he asked me what I thought about Foster being a “breakfast spell.” “I think he’ll be rather tough meat for breakfast,” I replied. “He might be all right for dinner.”
Lowell above all, by Mr. and Mrs. Phelps, by the John Hays, the Choates and the Bayards no less than by the many intimate friendships with Americans from different worlds which my books have brought me since 1888. During the last thirty years, also, I have had many friends and some kinsmen among the leaders of English politics, and in both political parties.
We started from Fort Hays on the 15th of November, and the first night out a blizzard struck us and carried away our tents; and as the gale was so violent that they could not be put up again, the rain and snow drenched us to the skin.
She gloried in the idea of going with her soldier husband back to the dear old th, and she had another plan, a surprise. She and Marion had had a long talk, and as a result Marion wanted to go too. It was novel. It was almost startling, yet why not? Several young ladies were already visiting at Hays, two of them were going, had gone to Russell with relatives who were married in the th.
"Robin!" exclaimed a small soft voice. "I cannot forget it," repeated the Ranger; and then the voice again said, "Robin," in a tone of such sweetness, that all present were moved. After another pause, hardy Jack Roupall put in his word. "The Skipper was hurt, and no marvel, to see her burning. You mustn't be spiteful, Robin Hays, only what hindered to get her out?"
He was so lifted above all sentiment as to review his temporary folly from the bare, serene heights of common-sense. Miss Carnegie was certainly not an heiress, and she was a young woman of very decided character, but her blood was better than the Hays', and she was . . . attractive yes, attractive.
Just then Dick Curtis spoke up and said: "Cody, the Captain is anxious to send some dispatches to General Sheridan, at Fort Hays, and none of the scouts here seem to be very willing to undertake the trip. They say they are not well enough acquainted with the country to find the way at night."
The villages of the Cheyenne, the Kiowa, and the Arapahoe extended up and down the sheltering valley of the Washita for many miles. Here were Black Kettle and his band of Cheyenne braves they of the loving heart at Fort Hays, they who had filled all the fair northern prairie lands with terror, whose hands reeked with the hot blood of the white brothers they professed to love.
I vow that sounded like rhyme; but here comes reason, in the shape of our new knight. Adieu! dear Constantia! Barbara! that is surely Robin Hays, groping among the slopes like a huge hedgehog. Did you not want to consult him as to the management of the peewits' eggs?" "In truth, yes, my lady," replied Barbara, rising from a half-finished carnation: "May I go, mistress?" Constance assented.
I told him not to shoot, as I was a scout from Fort Hays; and then, calling the sergeant of the guard, I went up to the vidette of the post, who readily recognized me. I entered the camp and proceeded to the tent of Major Cox, to whom I handed a letter from General Sheridan requesting him to give me a fresh horse. He at once complied with the request.
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