The eyes of the two men met understandingly, and Hamlin took the rein in his hand. Gaskins started to speak, but thought better of it. A moment he stood, irresolute, and then swung up into saddle, his glance ignoring the Sergeant. "Attention! company," he commanded sharply. "By column four--march!" The girl spurred her horse forward, and held out her hand. "Good-bye," she said, falteringly, "you--will be careful." "Of course," and he smiled up into her eyes. "Don't worry about me--I am an old hand." "And I am to see you again?" "I shall never run away, surely, and I hope for the best--" "Miss McDonald," broke in Gaskins impatiently, "the men are already moving." "Yes," her eyes still upon the Sergeant's uncovered face, "I am coming. Don't imagine I shall ever forget," she murmured hastily, "or that I will not be glad to meet you anywhere." "Some time I may put you to the test," he answered soberly. "If any trouble comes, trust Wasson--he is a real man." He stood there, one arm thrown over the neck of the horse, watching them ride away up the trail. The Lieutenant and the girl were together at the rear of the short column, and he seemed to be talking earnestly. Hamlin never moved, or took his eyes from her until they disappeared over the ridge. Just as they dipped down out of sight she turned and waved one hand. Then the man's gaze swept over the debris of the burned stage, and the two mounds of earth. Even these mute evidences of tragedy scarcely sufficed to make him realize all that had occurred in this lonely spot. He could not seem to separate his thought from the cavalcade which had just departed, leaving behind the memory of that farewell wave of the hand. To him it marked the end of a dream, the return to a life distasteful and lonely. Mechanically the Sergeant loaded his rifle, and strapped the old Confederate haversack to his saddle pommel, staring again, half unbelieving, at the faded inscription underneath the flap. Yet the sight of those letters awoke him, bringing to his bronzed face a new look of determination. He swung into the saddle, and, rifle across his knees, his eyes studying the desolate distance, rode westward along the deserted trail. CHAPTER XIII BACK AT FORT DODGE