The two men, with swift, unhesitating action, set to work to break camp. In half an hour the tent was folded and packed, the horses saddled, and then, lustily singing, Curtis led the way down upon the floor of the second basin, which narrowed towards the north into a deep and wooded valley leading to the plains. The grasp of winter weakened as they descended; December became October. The snow thinned, the streams sang clear, and considerably before noon the little train of worn and hungry horses came out upon the grassy shore of a small lake to bask in genial sunshine. From this point the road to Skinner's was smooth and easy, and quite untouched of snow. As they neared the miner's shack, a tall young Payonnay, in the dress of a cowboy, came out to meet them, smiling broadly. "I'm looking for you, Captain." "Are you, Jack? Well, you see me. What's your message?" "The Colonel says you are to come in right off. He told me to tell you he had an order for you." A slouching figure, supporting a heap of greasy rags, drew near, and a low voice drawled, weakly: "Jack's been here since Friday. I told him where you was, but he thought he'd druther lay by my fire than hunt ye." Curtis studied the squat figure keenly. "You weren't looking for the job of crossing the range yourself, were you?" The tramplike miner grinned and sucked at his pipe. "Well, no--I can't say that I was, but I like to rub it into these lazy Injuns." Jack winked at Curtis with humorous appreciation. "He's a dandy to rub it into an Injun, don't you think?" Even Skinner laughed at this, and Curtis said: "Unsaddle the horses and give them a chance at the grass, sergeant. We can't go into the fort to-night with the packs. And, Skinner, I want to hire a horse of you, while you help Pierce bring my outfit into the fort to-morrow. I must hurry on to see what's in the wind." "All right, Captain, anything I've got is yours," responded the miner, heartily. The bugles were sounding "retreat" as the young officer rode up to the door of Colonel Quinlan's quarters and reported for duty. "Good-evening, Major," called the Colonel, with a quizzical smile and a sharp emphasis on the word major. "Major!" exclaimed Curtis; "what do you mean--" "Not a wholesale slaughter of your superiors. Oh no! You are Major by the grace of the Secretary of Indian Affairs. Colonel Hackett, of the War Department, writes me that you have been detailed as Indian agent at Fort Smith. You'll find your notification in your mail, no doubt." Curtis touched his hat in mock courtesy. "Thanks, Mr. Secretary; your kindness overwhelms me." "Didn't think the reform administration could get along without you, did you?" asked the Colonel, with some humor. He was standing at his gate. "Come in, and we'll talk it over. You seem a little breathless." "It does double me up, I confess. But I can't consistently back out after the stand I've made."