I
have a troop in camp below," he pointed down the stream, "and am in
command here."
The scout nodded carelessly.
"Why did you not come down there, and report your presence in this
neighborhood to me?"
Murphy grinned unpleasantly. "Rather be--alone--no report--been
over--Black Range--telegraphed--wait orders."
"Do you mean you are in direct communication with headquarters, with
Custer?"
The man answered, with a wide sweep of his long arm toward the
northwest. "Goin' to--be hell--out there--damn soon."
"How? Are things developing into a truly serious affair--a real
campaign?"
"Every buck--in the--Sioux nation--is makin'--fer the--bad lands," and
he laughed noiselessly, his nervous fingers gesticulating. "I--guess
that--means--business."
Brant hesitated. Should he attempt to learn more about the young girl?
Instinctively he appreciated the futility of endeavoring to extract
information from Murphy, and he experienced a degree of shame at thus
seeking to penetrate her secret. Besides, it was none of his affair,
and if ever it should chance to become so, surely there were more
respectable means by which he could obtain information.
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