Major seemed to hesitate. Finally the latter asked:

"What is your name, Sergeant?"

"Hamlin, sir."

The pipe came out of Travers' mouth, and he half arose to his feet.

"By all the gods!" he exclaimed. "That's it! Now I 've got you
placed--you 're--you 're 'Brick' Hamlin!"

The man unconsciously put one hand to his hair, his eyes laughing.

"Some of the boys call me that--yes," he confessed apologetically.

Travers was on his feet now, gesticulating with his pipe.

"Damn! I knew I'd seen your face somewhere. It was two years ago at
Washita. Say, Dan, this is the right man for you; better than any
fledgling West Pointer. Why, he is the same lad who brought in
Dugan--you heard about that!"

The Major shook his head.

"No! Oh, of course not. Nothing that goes on out here ever drifts
east of the Missouri. Lord! We might as well be serving in a foreign
country. Well, listen: I was at Washita then, and had the story
first-hand. Dugan was a Lieutenant in 'D' Troop, out with his first
independent command scouting along the Canadian. He knew as much about
Indians as a cow does of music. One morning the young idiot left camp