There was not a great deal of plunder in the place, except in arms and horses, and these were indeed quite a capture. CHAPTER XXIX. THE HAPPY RETURN. “I wish that Buffalo Bill were back,” said the commanding officer at Fort McPherson. “The report that Indians are thick between here and the Loup is not agreeable. It seems to me that if they are not checked in time we’ll have a general Indian war on our hands this summer. And Buffalo Bill is the best man to go out and talk to the chiefs and try to drive some sense into them. “The redskins are getting too bold, and if they make a raid on the railway or some of the frontier settlements we’ll have all the trouble on our hands that we’ll know how to handle.” While he was thus speaking to the post adjutant an old man, pale and feeble, approached him, leaning on a staff. “Ah, Mr. Doyle! I’m glad to see you out. I trust you are feeling better at last. We are looking with hope for the safe return of your daughters, for it is quite time that the troop which I sent out under Captain Meinhold returned and reported to me.” “I have hoped until hope seems a mockery,” replied the old man. “My sons died long since, and sometimes, when I think what may have happened to them in the hands of those cruel redskins, I almost wish that I knew my daughters were dead, also. Then I could bow my head to God’s will and go to my grave conscious that I had nothing left to live for.” “Look--look, general!” cried the post adjutant. “No man save Buffalo Bill rides like that!” A man, with his long hair flowing out in the sunlight from his bare head, waving a big white sombrero in his hand and sitting his horse as if he and the animal were one, came riding like the wind toward the fort. As the three men looked they heard a cheerful bugle call sounding from the direction of the Platte. “Company B is coming in!” cried the adjutant. “What is the news?” asked the general hastily, as Buffalo Bill rode up to him. “What is the news, Colonel Cody?” “The very best, general. We have wiped out one of the worst band of outlaws this country was ever cursed with--the Death Riders.” “My daughters? You don’t say a word about them!” groaned old Mr. Doyle. “Are they dead?” “They are alive and well, sir. They are just as happy as they can be, and it won’t be many minutes now before they are here with you. I rode on ahead to bring in the news.” “Quick! Lift him up! The old gentleman has fainted!” cried the general. He had fainted from sudden and excessive joy, and not until his daughters arrived did he fully come back to his senses and to a realization of the fact that there was yet happiness in store for him.