country was full of roving, dubious Indians, and with the authentic news went a rumor that the jailer had received various messages. These were to the effect that the Sioux nation did not desire Toussaint to be killed by the white man, that Toussaint's mother was the sister of Red Cloud, and that many friends of Toussaint often passed the jailer's house. Perhaps he did get such messages. They are not a nice sort to receive. However all this may have been, the prisoner was gone.
III
Fort Robinson, on the White River, is backed by yellow bluffs that break out of the foot-hills in turret and toadstool shapes, with stunt pines starving between their torrid bastions. In front of the fort the land slants away into the flat unfeatured desert, and in summer the sky is a blue-steel covet that each day shuts the sun and the earth and mankind into one box together, while it lifts at night to let in the cool of the stars. The White River, which is not wide, runs in a curve, and around this curve below the fort some distance was the agency, and beyond it a stockade, inside which in those days dwelt the settlers. All this was strung out on one side of the White River, outside of the curve; and at a point near the agency a foot-bridge of two cottonwood trunks crossed to the concave of the river's bend—a bottom of some extent, filled with growing cottonwoods, and the tepees of many Sioux families. Along the river and on the plain other tepees stood.
One morning, after Lieutenant Balwin had become established at Fort Robinson, he was talking with his friend Lieutenant Powell, when Cutler knocked at the wire door. The wagon-master was a privileged character, and he sat down and commented irrelevantly upon the lieutenant's pictures, Indian curiosities, and other well-meant attempts to conceal the walk:
'What's the trouble, Cutler?'
'Don't know as there's any trouble.'
'Come to your point, man; you're not a scout now.'
'Toussaint's here.'
'What! in camp?'
'Hiding with the Sioux. Two Knives heard about it.' (Two Knives was a friendly Indian.) 'He's laying for me,' Cutler added.
'You've seen him?'
'No. I want to quit my job and go after him.'
'Nonsense!' said Powell.
'You can't, Cutler,' said Balwin. 'I can't spare you.'
'You'll be having to fill my place, then, I guess.'
'You mean to go without permission?' said Powell, sternly.
'Lord, no! He'll shoot me. That's all.'
The two lieutenants pondered.
'And it's to-day,' continued Cutler, plaintively, 'that he should be gettin' hanged in Cheyenne.'
Still the lieutenants pondered, while the wagon-master inspected a photograph of Marie Rose as Marguerite.
'I have it!' exclaimed Powell. 'Let's kill him.'
'How about the commanding officer?'
'He'd back us—but we'll tell him afterwards. Cutler, can you find Toussaint?'
'If I get the time.'
