Yes, the whole scheme was evident now. They had captured the camp and the wagon with its contents, and, knowing the difficult country and crossings along the lower Fork, were scurrying with their booty around the great southward bend, hoping to get away to the west, reach the trail of the war-party that had evaded the cavalry, and follow on with their prize. Or else, still keeping within the reservation line, to drive on westward for the valley of the Wounded Knee and their red brethren of the Pine Ridge Agency, the Brules of old Spotted Tail's (Sinte gleshka's) long famous band. Yet there, too, this wagon would be a white elephant. Why had they not divided among themselves the simple contents of a hunter's camp outfit, cut loose with the horses, and burned the big vehicle, which they could not use? Then all in a moment the truth flashed upon Geordie. Years before he had heard of such traffic, heard the fierce denunciation lavished by officers and men upon the miscreants who, for love of gold, would sell to Indians, at fabulous price, the means of murdering their fellow-men. All on a sudden his voice was heard: "Back to your horses, men! Mount, sergeant, and follow. Come on, Connell! That's why it takes four horses to lug it--that wagon is loaded with lead!" One minute more and from the lips of one wary Indian, well out on the "bench," went up a shrill whoop of warning. Away up the the grassy incline, from over the ridge and spurring straight for the wagon, now at the head of the ravine, came two lithe young horsemen, riding like the wind, the right hand of the foremost far uplifted in the signal known the plains over--to halt. Behind these two came an orderly trooper full gallop. Behind these three, presently, there popped into view a score of slouch-hatted, blue-bloused, sturdy dragoons, and with many a screech of wrath and disgust, away went the last of the Sioux, scooting for the shelter of the creek bank beyond. Shoot they longed to, yet dare not. The word had not yet gone forth. The medicine-men still said nay. The time was not yet ripe. A few days more must they suffer until Si Tanka and his braves were met, until, in overwhelming force, they could turn on the scattered and helpless settlers. That was easier warfare than fighting soldiers, and counted for just as much in scalps and glory. Away they went to the cotton-wood bottom, and one wellnigh exhausted, thoroughly demoralized white man collapsed on the driver's seat, and four sweating, staggering horses pulled up, panting and blowing, and the score of blue-coated riders came thundering on, to rein up in triumph around a silent but obviously excited brace of lieutenants, one of whom simply pointed into the depths of the wagon body. From under a lot of dingy camp equipage peeped out three or four little boxes the soldiery knew at sight. Sergeant Drum spurred alongside and whisked off what was left of the cover, and a dirty