The other orderly came to his comrade’s assistance. The two threw themselves upon the angular giant and sought to eject him from the place. Bright Wing’s hand flew to the heavy hatchet in his belt—a weapon he had picked up since his arrival at the fort. Duke crouched for a spring and growled sullenly. But Farley needed no help. His heavy fist shot out; and one of the soldiers dropped to the ground. Quickly turning upon the other and catching him by the collar, Joe threw him half-way across the tent. Then the enraged woodman bellowed hoarsely: “Take that, you cowardly, little whippersnappers! Jump onto a feller, two at a time, will you? I’ll learn you better manners—I will, by the Queen o’ Sheby! Come on ag’in, if you want to—I can trounce a _dozen_ like you! I come in here to see Ol’ Tippecanoe; an’ I’m a-goin’ to see him, ’r die a-tryin’. If you two whinin’ babies gits in my road ag’in, I’ll pin back y’r ears an’ swaller you—I will, by Mary Magdalene!” “What’s the matter there?” rang out in clear, even tones. And General Harrison, rising to his feet, looked toward the scene of disturbance. “These men have forced their way in here, and we are trying to put them out,” explained one of the orderlies, who stood brushing his soiled uniform and feelingly rubbing his bruised face. “Who are they?” the commander impatiently inquired. “I don’t know, General——” Farley strode forward and interrupted: “Gener’l Harrison, you ort to know us, whether you do ’r not. Me an’ the Injin was with you at Tippecanoe—the dog was, too, fer that matter.” “Ah! You were with me at Tippecanoe?” “Yes, Gener’l, we was there—an’ right in the hottest o’ the scrimmage.” “Your names?” “Joseph Peregoy Farley an’ Bright Wing, the Wyandot. I whacked bulls fer you, clean from Fort Harrison to the Prophet’s Town; an’ the Injin an’ the houn’ scouted with Ross Douglas. Ding-it-all-to——” Joe’s voice was drowned by an explosive roar of laughter from the assembled officers. Even the dignified commander smiled; and the two orderlies grinned in a sickly manner. When quiet was restored, Harrison said quickly: “Your names sound familiar. Who was it with whom your red comrade scouted?” “Ross Douglas.” “Ah!”—With animation.—“I remember you well now. You are the two men who went to his rescue, after he was captured by the Prophet’s band.” “We are, Gener’l; an’ we’ve come to ask y’r p’rmission to go to his help ag’in.” “Explain.” Farley did so—in his loquacious, rambling way. Deep silence reigned in the tent, as the simple-minded fellow told his moving tale and begged to be allowed to go to the aid of his friend. When he had finished, tears were in many eyes. “To whose command do you belong?” Harrison inquired in tremulous tones.