"Deploy as skirmishers," he commanded. "G Troop to the fight of the
trail, H Troop to the left. Stop anyone you see--anyone. If he tries
to escape, cry 'Halt!' twice and then fire--to kill. Forward! Gallop!
March! Toward the post."

"No!" shouted Colonel Patten. "He went toward Kiowa."

Crosby replied in the same dead voice: "He doubled after he left you,
colonel. He has gone to the post."

Colonel Patten struggled from the supporting arms that held him and
leaned eagerly forward. "You know him, then?" he demanded.

"Yes," cried Crosby, "God help him! Spread out there, you, in open
order--and ride like hell!"

Just before the officers' club closed for the night Lieutenant Ranson
came in and, seating himself at the piano, picked out "The Queen of
the Philippine Islands" with one finger. Major Stickney and others
who were playing bridge were considerably annoyed. Ranson then
demanded that everyone present should drink his health in champagne
for the reason that it was his birthday and that he was glad he was
alive, and wished everyone else to feel the same way about it. "Or,
for any other reason why," he added generously. This frontal attack
upon the whist-players upset the game entirely, and Ranson, enthroned
upon the piano-stool, addressed the room. He held up a buckskin
tobacco-bag decorated with beads.

"I got this down at the Indian village to-night," he said. "That old
squaw, Red Wing, makes 'em for two dollars. Crosby paid five dollars