Mrs. Guffy smiled happily from an open
window as she observed the square set of his shoulders, the easy,
devil-may-care smile upon his lips.
The military telegraph occupied one-half of the small tent next the
Miners' Retreat, and the youthful operator instantly recognized his
debonair visitor.
"Well, Billy," was Hampton's friendly greeting, "are they keeping you
fairly busy with 'wars and rumors of wars' these days?"
"Nuthin' doin', just now," was the cheerful reply. "Everything goin'
ter Cheyenne. The Injuns are gittin' themselves bottled up in the Big
Horn country."
"Oh, that's it? Then maybe you might manage to rush a message through
for me to Fort A. Lincoln, without discommoding Uncle Sam?" and Hampton
placed a coin upon the rough table.
"Sure; write it out."
"Here it is; now get it off early, my lad, and bring the answer to me
over at the hotel. There 'll be another yellow boy waiting when you
come."
The reply arrived some two hours later.
"FORT A. LINCOLN, June 17, 1876.
"HAMPTON, Glencaid:
"Seventh gone west, probably Yellowstone. Brant with them. Murphy,
government scout, at Cheyenne waiting orders.
Pages:
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344