"It isn't that, sir. He wants to go. There's no man in the troop, sir,
that would be safe in saying he didn't want to go."
"Then why do you hesitate?"
"Because we don't know Parsons well, sir; he hasn't been with us more'n
a year. He was Lieutenant Blunt's striker till the lieutenant was
wounded, but Captain Terry had him returned to the troop because we
were so short of men and had so much scouting to do. Then Parsons got
into the office as company clerk, and that's where he is now, sir. He
writes a fine hand and seemed to know all about papers."
"Where had he served before joining you?" asked the major.
"Nowhere, sir. He says he learned what he knows in the adjutant's
office at St. Louis barracks, where they had the cavalry depot. He's
been a barber, I think, on a Mississippi steamboat, but he can ride
well."
"Well, let Parsons be the man. If he wants to go I see no reason why he
shouldn't. Tell him to report here mounted and ready at tattoo."
But it was nearly ten o'clock before Parsons was ready,--a singular
fact when it is remembered that he wanted to go,--and Mr. Holmes, who
had stopped a moment to speak with Miss Forrest as the bugle ceased
playing tattoo, found sufficient interest in their chat to detain him
until just as the signal "Lights out" was ringing on the still
night-air. Then a horse came trotting briskly into the garrison and
over to the adjutant's office. Holmes caught a glimpse of the rider as
he shot under the gallery and through the gleam from the lower windows.
That face again!
Ten minutes afterward this inquisitive civilian was at the store, and,
singling out one of half a dozen cowboys who were laughing and drinking
at the bar, he beckoned him to come outside. The others followed, for
the barkeeper, in obedience to post orders, was closing up his shop.
Holmes led his silent follower beyond earshot of the loungers at the
door-way.
"Did you see the soldier who rode past here just now?"
"Yes, sir."
"Drake, I've picked you out for service that I can intrust to no one
else. You've never failed me yet. Are you ready for a long ride
to-night?"
"Anything you want, Mr. Holmes."
"That man's orders are to go with all speed to Fetterman and, after
resting there twenty-four hours, to take it easily returning. He'll go
there all right, I believe, but what he does there and after he leaves
there I want to know, if you have to follow to Cheyenne. Here's fifty
dollars. If he jumps the track and starts for the railway after
quitting Fetterman, let him go; wire me from Chugwater, but don't lose
track of him. I'll join you at Cheyenne or Laramie City, wherever he
goes, and the moment you strike the settlements put the sheriff on his
trail."