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King, Charles, 1844-1933

"An Apache Princess A Tale of the Indian Frontier"

Then Dr. Graham was sent for, and
the three walked over to the hospital, just as the musicians were
forming for tattoo. They were at Mullins's bedside, with the steward
and attendants outside, when taps went wailing out upon the night.
There were five minutes of talk with that still bewildered patient.
Then Byrne desired to see Mr. Blakely at once and alone. Cutler
surrendered his office to the department inspector, and thither the
lieutenant was summoned. Mrs. Sanders, with Mrs. Truman, was keeping
little Mrs. Bridger company at the moment, and Blakely bowed
courteously to the three in passing by.
"Even in that rough dress," said Mrs. Sanders reflectively, as her
eyes followed the tall, straight figure over the moonlit parade, "he
is a most distinguished looking man."
"Yes," said Mrs. Bridger, still unappeased. "If he were a Sioux, I
suppose they'd call him 'Man-In-Love-With-His-Legs.'" Blakely heard
the bubble of laughter that followed him on his way, and wished that
he, too, felt in mood as merry. The acting sergeant major, a clerk,
and young Cassidy, the soldier telegraph operator, seated at the
westward end of the rough board porch of the adjutant's office, arose
and saluted as he entered. Byrne had sent every possible hearer out of
the building.
Five minutes the conference lasted, no sound coming from within.


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