"You see I 've got to go on."
"Go on? Good God! man, do you realize what you are saying? Why, you
can hardly sit the saddle! You carry despatches, you say? Well, there
are plenty of good men in my troop who will volunteer to take them on.
You need rest."
"Not much," said Hampton. "I'm fit enough, or shall be as soon as I
get food. Good Lord, boy, I am not done up yet, by a long way! It's
the cursed loneliness out yonder," he swept his hand toward the
horizon, "and the having to care for him, that has broken my heart. He
went that way clear back on the Powder, and it's been a fight between
us ever since. I 'll be all right now if you lads will only look after
him. This is going to reach Custer, and I'll take it!" He flung back
his ragged coat, his hand on the despatch-bag. "I 've earned the
right."
Brant reached forth his hand cordially. "That's true; you have.
What's more, if you 're able to make the trip, there is no one here who
will attempt to stop you. But now tell me how this thing happened. I
want to know the story before we get in."
For a moment Hampton remained silent, his thoughtful gaze on the
near-by videttes, his hands leaning heavily upon the saddle pommel.
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