Captain Hamilton nodded at Bugler Odell; and now as the column was splashing into the ford Odell blew a lively lilt. It was one of the merriest, most stirring tunes that Ned ever had heard, and he resolved to learn it. It put life into the whole column. “That’s a new wan to ye, I’ll wager,” remarked Odell, having paused as for breath. “’Tis an Irish song that the general likes, and it’s the march o’ the Sivinth Cavalry.” The post was above the opposite bank. It stood forth clear in the crisp air, and among the buildings Ned could see figures scurrying to and fro. Some of them were women. Away sped the dogs, floundering through the shallows, and scrambling up the ascent, racing for supper. Next out scrambled the horses, climbing the steep, beaten trail that led from the river-bed to the flat plateau above; and at trot the returning column soon rode into the army post of old Fort Riley. Bleak it was; composed of bare but substantial barracks and officers’ quarters, two stories high, of whitish stone laid in plaster. These buildings, lined with verandas, faced inward, forming a broken square. Outside the square were several other buildings, of stone and boards—being, as Ned was soon told, the store-houses and stables. As soon as the column halted, the general nimbly dismounted, and leaving his horse for his orderly and the dismissal of the column for Captain Hamilton, he made straight for two women who were standing expectantly awaiting him, and overwhelmed by the barking dogs. One he kissed gladly, while to the other he gave his free hand. “Here we are, Libbie,” Ned heard him say. “Ready for Lizzie’s best. I’ve brought her a buffalo tongue—a big one. And a recruit, too.” With his arm about the woman’s shoulders he beckoned to Ned. “Oh, Ned! Come here.” Ned went slowly forward. He was ashamed of his rags. The woman whom the general was treating so affectionately was small and dark-eyed and sweet; the other woman was a pretty girl, plump and roguish and very curly-headed, with a profusion of dancing golden hair. She was smiling across at Captain Hamilton, who now had dismissed the column. “Ned, one of these ladies is my wife Mrs. Custer, and the other is our guest, Miss Diana,” informed the general, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “You can guess which is which. I picked Ned up on the prairie, at the same time I got the buffalo—and when the buffalo was about to get _him_,” he explained, to the twain. “He wants to be a soldier, and I think we’ll make a bugler of him. What do _you_ think?” “Oh, you poor boy!” exclaimed the dark-eyed little woman, holding to Ned both her hands, while Miss Diana smiled brightly upon him. “Is he lost, Autie?” “Same old story,” answered the general, soberly. “A waif from another Indian raid. I’ll tell you about it. But he’ll stay with us, and we’re going to find his sister for him. She’s all that’s left—somewhere out among the tribes.” “Oh!” gasped both women.