Together they came striding straight toward Cutler's, and the captain
arose and went to meet them, foreboding in his soul. Graham and
Westervelt, restrained by discipline, held back. The women and younger
officers, hushed by anxiety, gazed at the swift-coming pair in dread
and fascination. There was a moment of muttered conference with the
commanding officer, some hurried words, then Blakely was seen to
spring away, to be recalled by Cutler, to start a second time, only to
be again recalled. Then Cutler, shouting, "Mr. Doty, I need you!"
hurried away toward the office, and Blakely, fairly running, sped
straight for the barracks of Wren's troop. Only Byrne was left to
answer the storm of question that burst upon him all at once, women
thronging about him from all along the line.
"We have news from the agency," said he. "It is from Indian runners,
and may not be reliable--some rumor of a sharp fight near Sunset
Pass."
"Are there particulars, colonel--anybody killed or wounded?" It was
Mrs. Sanders who spoke, her face very pale.
"We cannot know--as yet. It is all an Indian story. Mr. Blakely is
going at once to investigate," was the guarded answer. But Mrs.
Sanders knew, as well as a dozen others, that there _were_
particulars--that somebody had been killed or wounded, for Indian
stories to that effect had been found singularly reliable.
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