“It’s Corbin,” pronounced the general, gazing earnestly through his glass. His tanned face flushed high. Yes, it was Corbin—Jack Corbin the scout who was a partner of California Joe. Evidently he bore important news, for he was urging his horse mercilessly. He arrived—his face frosty and his horse gasping through wide frosty nostrils. The general did not say a word, in query; none was needed, for Corbin spoke at once. “We’ve struck the trail, about twelve miles north. Hundred and fifty Injuns, pointin’ southeast, for the Washita. Made within twenty-four hours.” “Good!” ejaculated the general. “Where’s Elliot?” “Follerin’.” “Can you catch him, with a fresh horse?” “Reckon I can.” “Take that horse there,” directed the general. Corbin was changing saddle in a jiffy. “Tell Major Elliot to push the pursuit as rapidly as he can, and I’ll cut across country and join him. If the trail changes direction so that I may not strike it, he is to let me know. If I do not join him by eight o’clock tonight he is to halt and wait for me.” Without a word away galloped Jack Corbin. “Sound officers’ call, bugler,” bade the general, to Ned. So busy had been the officers that apparently none had noted the arrival and departure of Jack. But now at the bugle notes they hastened up, curious to know the occasion. In his quick, sharp manner the general told them what had happened. “Now, gentlemen, this is our chance,” he added. “We mustn’t neglect it, and we mustn’t let Major Elliot do all the fighting. We’ll cut loose. The wagons are to be left here, under guard of one officer and of ten men detailed from each company. Company commanders will make their own details. The officer of the day will remain in charge of the guard, and bring on the wagons, following our trail as fast as practicable. The pursuing column will be in light marching order. Never mind the weather. The Indians are of more importance. Commands will be limited to one hundred rounds of ammunition to the man, and such coffee, hard bread, forage and blankets as he can carry on the saddle. Tents and extra blankets to be left with the wagons. That is all, gentlemen.” And the general looked at his watch. “The advance will be sounded in twenty minutes. Adjutant, you will inform the officer of the day as to the arrangements.” At once half a dozen voices spoke, in little chorus. “That’s Hamilton! Oh, we ought to have Hamilton with us!” The general smiled and shook his head. “Somebody’s duty is with the wagon-train.” Out scattered the officers, for time was indeed short, and the general never accepted excuses for delay. Young Captain Hamilton, as officer of the day in charge of the rear guard, which had just crossed, had been absent from the conference; now he came galloping, interrupting the general who had plunged into the preparations. The captain’s face was white and anxious. He saluted.