He described the situation in a few words, and the trooper listened
quietly until he was done. Travers interrupted once, his voice
emerging from a cloud of smoke. As the Major concluded, Hamlin asked a
question or two gravely.

"How old is your daughter, sir?"

"In her twentieth year."

"Have you a picture of the young lady?"

The Major crossed over to his fatigue coat hanging on the wall, and
extracted a small photograph from an inside pocket.

"This was taken a year ago," he explained, "and was considered a good
likeness then."

Hamlin took the card in his hands, studied the face a moment, and then
placed it upon the table.

"You figure she ought to leave Ripley on the 18th," he said slowly.
"Then I shall need to start at once to make Dodge in time."

"You mean to go then? Of course, you realize I have no authority to
order you on such private service."

"That's true. I 'm a volunteer, but I 'll ask you for a written order
just the same in case my Troop commander should ever object, and I 'll
need a fresh horse; I rode mine pretty hard coming up here."