I'll warn 'em. Thar ain't a house here that hasn't got two or three
rifles an' shotguns in it, an' with the farmers from the valley joinin'
in Hubbard could wipe out the whole gang."
"Tell them to be on guard all the time, Red Blaze," said Whitley with
strong emphasis. "In war you've got to watch, watch, watch. Always
know what the other fellow is doin', if you can."
"Let's go back to the station," said Dick. "Maybe we'll have an answer
soon."
They found the young operator hanging over his instrument, his eyes
still shining. He had been in that position ever since they left him,
and Dick knew that his eagerness to get an answer from Washington kept
him there, mind and body waiting for the tick of the key.
Dick, the sergeant, and Red Blaze sat down by the stove again, and
rested there quietly for a quarter of an hour. Red Blaze was thinking
that it would be another cold ride back over the pass. The sergeant,
although he was not sleepy, closed his eyes and saw again the vast
rolling plains, the herds of buffalo spreading to the horizon, and the
bands of Sioux and Cheyennes galloping down, their great war bonnets
making splashes of color against the thin blue sky. Dick was thinking
of Pendleton, the peaceful little town in Kentucky that was his home,
and of his cousin, Harry Kenton. He did not know now where Harry was,
and he did not even know whether he was dead or alive.
Dick sighed a little, and just at that moment the telegraph key began to
click.
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