As they neared the fort they came in sight of the stage-trail, and upon reaching it heard the rumbling of the coach behind them. A few moments after the coach came in sight, and by the side of Horeshoe Ned a stranger sat upon the box. “Ho, Surgeon Powell, how is yer, and you, too, Bill?” cried Horseshoe Ned, as the coach drew up to the two pards just as they came within sight of the fort. “All right, thank you, Ned.” “Have you seen any road-agents this trip?” asked the Surgeon Scout. “You bet I ain’t on the run back, doctor, but I has a pilgrim inside who held me up when I was going east, as I guess Buffalo Bill told yer.” “Yes, he told me what a dead shot your lady passenger proved to be.” “Dead shot? Now I should remark but she is ther deadest of ther dead shots and no mistake. She’s one among a thousand, and no harm said agin’ t’others; but I guesses yer’ll hev ter doctor him up, sir, for he’s been in the hands o’ that old Pills at ther station, and maybe he don’t know much about doctorin’.” “All right, Horseshoe Ned, I’ll do all I can for him; but you appear to have several passengers along on this run?” “You bet I has, sir, three passengers besides ther outlaw who is crippled in both arms. This gent ridin’ with me I don’t know by name, or I’d interdooce yer.” Thus urged, the man riding on the box with Horseshoe Ned said: “My name is Raymond, sir, Henry Raymond.” “Ah! yes, I remembers hearing your pards call yer by thet name now. These gents, Mr. Raymond, is Surgeon Powell, o’ ther cavalry, and Buffalo Bill, chief of scouts, and they is among ther best men thet ever is seen in these parts.” All bowed at the introduction, and the scouts kept up with the coach until it reached the fort. The man who had given his name as Raymond was one who possessed the look of one to be depended on in a time of need. He was well built, quick of action, and had a dark, piercing eye that was most penetrating. The other two passengers were heavily bearded men, such as might be found anywhere on the frontier. As Henry Raymond dismounted from the box he turned to Surgeon Powell, who had just gotten off of his horse and said: “You are an officer at the fort, I believe, sir?” “Yes, the surgeon of the post.” “I would like to see the commandant, sir, Colonel Dunwoody?” “I will conduct you to him, if you wish.” “I thank you, sir,” and the stranger joined the surgeon and the scout, who were going to headquarters to report their return. Colonel Dunwoody was seated upon the piazza of his headquarters smoking an after-dinner cigar and was alone when the party arrived, for the two other passengers had come along also, Henry Raymond remarking that they were friends of his. “Ah! Powell, glad to see you back, and you, too, Cody, for after getting word that you had gone off on the trail of a dream I began to fear that after all the redskins might have gotten hold of Buffalo Bill.”