He walked fast enough to keep ahead of the laboring team, and his heart caught in his throat because he had to set a very slow pace. The mules were straining hard to do work that under ordinary circumstances would not have been excessive. The night was wholly black now. Joe stopped suddenly, aware that they had come to another river only because he heard the soft purling of water. Two more steps and he would have walked into it. His heart pounded, and he trembled. John Gaystell had spoken of the Laramie River, and had said that it could be forded. Suppose there was another river that could not be forded, one Gaystell hadn't mentioned? Joe hesitated, then got his rifle. He stood on the river bank, pointed the rifle straight up and, when he shot, the muzzle blast illumined only falling snow. Too weary to do anything else, the mules only started nervously when the rifle roared. Joe listened intently, keeping his mouth open the better to hear. Then, after what seemed like hours and could have been no more than fifteen seconds, in the distance he heard an answering shot. Ten minutes later a hail sounded out in the darkness. "Hall-oo!" "Hall-oo!" Joe called back. He heard a shouted, "Where are you?" "Across the river! Can we ford?" "Yes! Do you see my light?" "No!" "Stay where you are! I'll come over!" A horse splashed in the river and came toward them. Suddenly, and almost unbelievingly, out in the swirling snow Joe saw the lighted lantern that the rider carried. He called, "I see you now!" "Come straight toward me! I'll wait!" Joe climbed to the seat, took the reins from Tad, and drove the mules in the river. They walked more briskly now, and Joe thought that no man can, for very long, deceive a mule. They knew that their journey was nearly over, and that not too far ahead they would find both food and shelter. Perhaps they smelled the fort. Out in the river, as they drew closer, Joe saw a mounted trooper holding a lantern high. The soldier walked his horse back across the river. Two other cavalry men waited there, and the soldier with the lighted lantern paused beside the wagon. "Good Lord! Who hits the trail on a night like this?" "Had to get to Laramie," Joe explained. "You're almost there. How are your mules?" "Worn out." "Follow us. We'll take it slow." Joe followed the troopers up the trail, and the lights of Laramie shone through the storm. Guarded by armed soldiers, the gate was open and Joe drove through into the stockade. The sergeant with the lantern came beside the wagon again. "Can we get quarters?" Joe asked. "We have a sick youngster with us." "Want to go to the hospital?" "No!" Emma said. One of the soldiers rode ahead, and Joe swung his tired team to follow the sergeant. Lamp light brightened windows, and Joe halted the mules. The sergeant dismounted. "Here you are. Bring the youngster in."